Young blood, heaven need a sinner, You can't raise hell with a saint. Young blood, came to start a riot; Don't care what your old man say. Young blood, heaven hate a sinner, But we gonna raise hell anyway. – Dorothy, Raise Hell

March 18, 1978

Layla gasped for air, clutching hard at the edge of the mirror image of the Slytherin table that resided in the school kitchens. She glared up bitterly at Severus Snape, who sat opposite her at the table once again. "This is truly pathetic, Danes," Snape sneered. "The last two lessons you've actually regressed in your abilities."

"I'm trying," Layla snarled, pushing her hair back off her sweaty forehead.

"Not hard enough," Snape dismissed coldly. "Control your emotions. Concentrate your mind. Focus."

"How the fuck am I supposed to concentrate on this right now?" Layla said bitterly. "You know what's been happening."

"Of course, I do, because you keep failing your lessons. Legilimens."

She hesitated in front of the hearth for a moment, then asked quietly, "Lucius? Is – is this going to change, to get better? Us, I mean. When I'm out of school in June, and I'm living here, and we get married, will we – will we really know each other then? Will we be happy together then?"

The heavy silence from where Lucius stood behind her felt like a weighty fog pushing against Layla's back, driving her out, begging her to leave with her questions unanswered. Just as she was about to let the Floo Powder drop into the flickering flames, he answered truthfully, "I honestly don't know. We'll be able to finally get to know one another more intimately, certainly. As for if we'll be happy together… I honestly don't know. I like to think so…"

"What do you want?" Regulus repeated, clenching and unclenching his fists in an effort to control his sexual impulses. "I know that I want you, beyond a shadow of a doubt. But I want to know what you want, Layla."

Shutting her eyes tightly, trying her hardest to shut out her desires, Layla mumbled, "Honestly, I just want to be good. I don't – so many things, over the last couple of years, outside of my control. I've never had a choice; I just try my hardest to do what's right. And then I get here, and there's you and there's Lucius, and I feel that much more out of control, because I'm not doing what's true and right and pure anymore; I'm just doing what's right for me. And I'm not sure I even know what's right for me anymore…"

Layla shoved against Snape's probing consciousness and pushed him so hard out of her mind that he physically winced. "Stop it," Layla growled.

"No," Snape said, his dark eyes lighting up with dark amusement. "You asked me to train you in Occlumency, and I am. I made an Unbreakable Vow to push you until you can't be pushed any farther down the road to success, and I will continue to do so."

"Oh, please," Layla scoffed. "You just get a kick out of watching me suffer."

Shrugging, Snape said, "Only a little bit. I think I'm entitled to enjoy things occasionally." Layla huffed, snatching a biscuit off a nearby tray and biting into it. Snape watched her for a moment, then said, a little less snarky than before, "You did the right thing, you know. About Black and Malfoy."

Layla swallowed hard, making eye contact with him. "Did I?"

Snape shrugged again. "I think so, at least."

"Regulus hasn't spoken to me since, and neither has Dorcas."

Snape raised an eyebrow at her. "Meadowes? Your roommate? What does she care about all that?"

"She doesn't," Layla said, frowning. "She's upset with me for her own reasons. When we were attacked in Hogsmeade by that Death Eater…"

"The one you protected her from, like an idiot," Snape mocked.

"Oh, like you wouldn't have done the same for Lily Evans," Layla bit out. Snape glared at her, but otherwise didn't react – she knew she'd hit a nerve because they both knew it was the truth. "Anyway, she noticed that the Death Eater seemed to know who I was and connected me out loud to Malfoy, and she seems to have taken that as confirmation that Lucius is a Death Eater."

"He is, and a high-ranking Death Eater at that," Snape said.

Rolling her eyes, Layla said, "Well, no shit, Snape. But the point is that now Dorcas is furious at me for marrying Lucius, now that she realizes that I'm just as aware as she is that he's a Death Eater."

"And pray tell, why is that?" Snape drawled, clearly not particularly interested in Layla's daily dramas.

"Because, we're supposed to be best friends or something, and she's a Muggleborn. It doesn't matter that I personally protected her from the Death Eaters or that Lucius is the only reason she didn't die that day – because obviously, I can't tell her about how Lucius saved us from that other Death Eater – because she's too pissed off that I would marry someone whose entire personal creed is based on blood purity and the obliteration of Muggleborns in the wizarding world." Not to mention, Dorcas wasn't the only Ravenclaw who took issue with Layla's choice of fiancés. Why who she was marrying was anyone else's business, Layla could hardly guess, but it was a subject of immense interest and fascination to her fellow students. Layla's side of the dorm room had been vandalized more than once since the Christmas holiday, including the previous morning – especially since the Death Eaters had attacked Hogsmeade. Someone had sneaked into her room while she took a shower and decimated her personal belongings that particular day. She'd had no choice but to attend her morning classes in her Muggle street clothes yesterday, as the perpetrators had made sure that none of her school uniforms had survived unscathed. Her Ravenclaw uniforms and scarf had been dyed a horrendous chartreuse and spray painted repeatedly with metallic silver Dark Marks and the words "Death Eater whore." The professors had complained, particularly Professor McGonagall, but given the circumstances, they had allowed Layla to get away with the casual outfit until Lucius had somehow managed to send Dobby with replacement uniforms by noon. The rest of her personal belongings had either been hit with stink pellets or stolen and scattered throughout the castle.

Snape thought quietly for a moment, then said casually, "Sounds like it must make sharing a room with her rather unpleasant."

Layla grabbed her school bag from the bench beside her. "Oh, forget it," she snapped. "I'm done with this Occlumency shit for the night. I'll see you tomorrow for that Potions study session."

Sighing heavily, Snape called after her as she strode toward the exit. "Wait." Layla paused, not looking back at him. "Meadowes is never going to understand because she has other options. She'll get out of Hogwarts and go straight into the Order of the Phoenix with her young, idealistic, do-gooder worldview. She hasn't actually experienced the war yet, not as you have. She hasn't figured out what you have, that actively going against the Dark Lord as a Muggleborn means certain death. She's doing the stupidly brave thing; you're intelligently making a conscious choice to protect yourself because you have one thing she doesn't have."

Layla glanced back over her shoulder at Snape. "And what's that?"

Half-grinning, Snape answered, "Survivor instincts. A desire for self-preservation above all else."

Layla snorted, knowing that he was right. "Maybe so," she said quietly. "But at what cost? Is it really worth it if I'm not doing the right thing anymore?"

"Doing what's right is overrated." Layla met his line of sight, surprised. Snape was taking a biscuit off the tray. "It's the truth. The world isn't black and white. It's not about doing what's wrong or what's right. It's about doing the best you can with the options given to you. That's what you're doing right now. You're not out of control; I don't know why you keep telling yourself that. You've probably got more control over your life now than you ever had back then. You consistently choose to do what's best for you and you alone, and that's a good thing. Now, you have Lucius, and you're choosing to do what you think is best for the both of you together. That's quite admirable."

Eyebrows raising in surprise, Layla said, "Wow. Really? High praise coming from you."

A small laugh escaped Snape, throwing Layla even more off balance. Was Snape actually human like her and not some evil villainous monster out to ruin the lives of everyone around him? He confessed, "Truthfully, if I had the chance… I mean, if Lily could ever forgive… Well, I would do the same for her, if given the chance."

Layla took a moment to absorb that revelation, then she nodded. "Thanks," she said and was surprised to find that she meant it. Snape simply nodded in reply, and Layla turned and left the kitchens and their lesson.

March 25, 1978

Rain soaked through Layla's Quidditch uniform the instant she had stepped onto the pitch. Massive forks of lightning flashed all around the players, followed by deep crashes of thunder. Huge gusts of wind were giving Layla difficulty even keeping her broom in front of the goalposts. She still managed to block some goals, but Slytherin was still holding a thin lead with a score of 60 Slytherin to 50 Ravenclaw.

Layla's broom swerved and jerked with the force of the stormwinds; she was only just able to stay mounted. She didn't see the bludger coming, but that didn't stop it from hitting her like a freight train. A well-aimed bludger from Rosier caught Layla across the back of her head, knocking her clean off her broomstick. Spotting his friend in danger, Regulus swooped underneath and caught the unconscious Layla as she fell, but the distraction of their star seeker cost Slytherin the championship Quidditch match. Xenophilius Lovegood snatched the Snitch from the air as Regulus snatched Layla from her free-fall, putting a succinct end to the match. Ravenclaw won the Quidditch Cup, if only by sheer dumb luck.

"Rennervate." Layla gasped as the spell forced her back to consciousness, and she realized she was now laying on the waterlogged, muddy ground of the Quidditch pitch with Regulus leaned over her. Every inch of her head, inside and out, felt as though it were on fire. Tendrils of ferocious pain reached down her neck and deep into her shoulders. She bit her lip to hold back the desire to scream, but it didn't stop her whimpering. Worry etched lines into Regulus's forehead. "Stay still," he said, pushing a wet piece of her dark hair back from her eyes. "Madame Pomfrey will be here any -"

"Out of my way, Black," Madame Pomfrey ordered firmly. Regulus disappeared, and then a bright light from Madame Pomfrey's wand blinded Layla. She flinched away from it, but then she felt a liquid, colder than the torrent of rain on her face, wash over the back of her skull. Another minute passed, and the pain began to dissipate. "There, that should do the trick," Madame Pomfrey declared confidently, stepping back and out of Layla's view.

Regulus offered Layla his hand to help her up, and Layla accepted it. He pulled her to her feet with a quick yank that left Layla dizzy. "You alright?" Regulus asked.

Layla didn't let go of his hand, grabbing onto his shoulder with her free hand to steady herself on her feet as the dizziness began to fade away. The pain no longer reached into her neck and shoulders, but the initial point of impact on the back of her skull still ached dully. "Yeah, I think so," she mumbled, still struggling to find her equilibrium.

"What the fuck, Black?" Rosier's furious voice demanded as he came stomping up, his boots splashing mud and rainwater. "What the hell were you thinking? You were inches from the Snitch; we could've won the game!"

"What the hell did you expect me to do, Rosier, let her fall to her death to win a stupid Quidditch match?" Regulus snapped as Rosier stopped in front of him.

"Of course! One of her little Ravenclaws could've caught her, or otherwise, Madame Pomfrey could've fixed her up just fine. It's not like she would've actually died. You cost us the Quidditch Cup! Looney Lovegood wouldn't have even had time to spot the Snitch if you hadn't been so distracted by your halfblood bitch!" Rosier sneered, the rest of the Slytherin team gathering behind their beater.

Regulus lunged angrily at Rosier, but Layla stood between them still, holding him back. Her Ravenclaw teammates were huddled behind Regulus and Layla, worried for their keeper's health, and now for the potential fight about to break out. "The fuck did you just call her?" he demanded.

Rosier smirked, pleased at getting under Regulus's skin. "Halfblood bitch," he repeated. "Not to mention a Death Eater whore; she'll just sleep with anyone who's got the Dark Mark, won't she?" Several Slytherins behind him laughed loudly.

"Hey!" Lovegood snapped. "Layla's none of those things! She's a good friend and a good person."

"Oh, shut up, Lovegood," Rabastan, the Slytherin team's keeper, shouted over the thunder still crashing above the slowly emptying stands of seats. "No one cares about Lunatic Lovegood's opinions."

"Hey, I care," Layla snapped back. "He's a good guy, just a little… weird."

"We may not actually like Layla that much," said a dark-haired, dark-skinned girl who stepped forward from the pack of the Ravenclaw quidditch team. Layla rolled her eyes at the sixth year chaser, as Rebekah Jones continued, "But she's still one of us, whether we want her or not, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you Slytherins dogpile her and Regulus just because he decided to do the decent human thing, and you're all sore over losing."

"That is enough, students," Dumbledores voice cut across both teams. Layla looked over at Professor Dumbledore and was surprised to see Lucius standing a few meters behind him, waiting patiently under an umbrella. "Ravenclaw wins the Quidditch Cup. Now, I do believe you'll all want to hurry along inside where you can warm your rain-chilled bones with a nice fire and hot chocolates, yes?" Several members of the two Quidditch teams began to walk past the old man when he added, "Oh, yes, and Mr. Black. Thirty points to Slytherin for your heroism." Regulus nodded curtly at Dumbledore, then the headmaster turned and headed up the hill to the castle.

Rosier began to finally leave, muttering angrily under his breath with every stomp toward the school. As the rain continued to pelt the pair, Layla said quietly to Regulus, "Thanks for catching me."

Regulus sighed then nodded. "Yeah, of course," he mumbled. "I couldn't just let you fall." He turned quietly away from her, starting the lonely trudge up the hill to the castle and leaving Layla behind on the pitch.

"Merlin's beard, that's quite a bit of mud." Lucius's voice, so unexpectedly close, made Layla jump before she turned around to see him, surprisingly dry under his umbrella. She looked down at her Quidditch uniform; only tiny splashes of blue were visible, it was so caked with mud. She could feel the dirt on her face and tangled in her dripping wet black hair. Layla simply nodded in response. "Are you alright, dearest?" he asked, reaching a hand out from under his umbrella to cup her face.

Shivering, Layla didn't answer for a moment. "You heard what they were saying about me, didn't you?" Lucius nodded. "It's not true; Regulus and I have never -"

"I believe you," Lucius interrupted. Layla froze, not sure if she could really trust what she was hearing. He reassured her, "I believe you. You don't have to defend yourself to me. I trust you." Layla hesitated to believe him, but she nodded anyway. "Why don't we get something warm in you, dry your out, hm? You're going to catch your death of cold out here if you don't get out of this ridiculous storm soon." Lightning flashed, followed by a deep roll of thunder, almost as though Lucius had summoned the elements just to punctuate his point.

One corner of her mouth quirking up in a wry smile, Layla asked, "And just where are you planning on taking me? You can't come up to Ravenclaw tower with me, and it's not a Hogsmeade weekend, so I'm not supposed to leave the school."

"Since when have the rules stopped you from visiting me whenever you please?" Lucius teased, offering her his hand to hold.

Layla started to reach for his hand, but then the voice of her roommate cut through the sounds of the storm around them. "Layla, come on!" Dorcas called. "Moss told me to tell you to get your ass up to the tower with the rest of the team to celebrate Ravenclaw's victory!"

Lucius sighed, then smiled. "Another time?"

Layla nodded. "Next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Of course."

Mischief glinting in Layla's eyes, she pounced Lucius under his umbrella, kissing him deeply and fully. He caught her easily in one arm, the other still holding his umbrella over her. She smirked as she kissed him, pressing her sopping, muddy uniform against his impeccably spotless, dry, black robes. Layla tangled her fingers in his perfectly combed, white blonde hair, with every intention to muss it up as much as possible. Little flecks of mud were left in his hair as she brushed her fingers through it. When she pulled away, she giggled at the sight of the mess she'd so quickly made of Lucius Malfoy. He didn't even have to look at his clothes to know what she'd done. "You did that on purpose," he accused with a teasing grin.

Layla giggled and nodded. "Yep. Goodbye, Lucius," she said with a laugh, then she ran after where Dorcas was already leaving her behind, heading for the castle.

Layla was surprised to find Regulus standing outside of Ravenclaw tower waiting for her when she reached the door knocker. She stopped a meter away, awkward and unsure what to say. Her cold, wet Quidditch uniform clung to her skin in much the same way as Regulus's Slytherin uniform, and mud was streaked across his cheek. She wanted nothing more in that moment then to gently wipe it off his face for him, but she couldn't help hesitating. Other than the exchange on the Quidditch pitch, the two hadn't spoken in three weeks, since she'd rejected him for good. "Hi, Regulus."

"Hi," Regulus replied, clearly just as awkward as she felt. "Look, I can go if you don't want me here. It's just, I'm not exactly the most welcome person in Slytherin house right now, and your Quidditch captain, Moss, invited me to the party since I'm apparently the person who handed them the victory out there today, so…"

"It's fine," Layla gushed, perhaps too quickly. "It's fine; you can stay." She shifted her weight uncomfortably as Regulus answered the door knocker's riddle, earning the pair entrance to the Ravenclaw common room.

The party was already in full swing somehow; cheers went up around the common room as the two walked through the door. "Thanks for the win, Black!" Someone shouted from the opposite side of the common room, making Regulus blush.

"I need a drink," he muttered.

"And I need a shower," Layla complained, glancing down at her muddy clothes. "Are you alright on your own for a bit?" she asked Regulus.

Regulus snorted. "Let's see, no Death Eaters, no shady characters, no politics, no family in sight? I think I'll manage just fine on my own, thanks."

Layla rolled her eyes at his snark but left him to fend for himself and headed upstairs to her room. After warming up considerably in the soothing shower waters, she struggled to find some clothing that hadn't been defaced in the latest onslaught of bullying, but she managed to find a simple black dress that was free of graffiti. Layla fussed over herself in the mirror for a minute, less out of genuine care about her appearance and more as a stalling tactic to postpone facing the current awkwardness that was her friendship with Regulus Black.

Finally, Layla forced herself to return to the party in the common room, descending the stairs at as slow a pace she could manage. She was surprised to find that Regulus wasn't waiting for her at the bottom of the steps as he usually did. In fact, she couldn't see him at all. She frowned, worried that he had decided he hated her so much he couldn't bear to stay, after all. Layla wandered over to the snack table, munching on a chocolate cauldron as she searched the room for him again. This time, she spotted him, and when she did, she gasped at the same time she bit the chocolate cake, accidentally breathing a piece, choking on it. She coughed it up, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Regulus hadn't left. Layla hadn't been able to find him at first because he was sitting on their favorite couch with Dorcas straddling his lap, nearly blocking him from sight as she snogged the living daylights out of him. For a moment, Layla was too stunned to move, to react, to feel, to tear her eyes away. Then the scene sunk in, and the feelings overwhelmed her. She cycled quickly through feelings of hurt, betrayal, anger, bitterness, hate, and simple weirdness.

Before either of them could see that she had noticed them, Layla quickly turned her back on them in favor of facing the snack table. She grabbed a whole bottle of firewhiskey and stormed back up to her dorm room. She hadn't tried alcohol since the Halloween party incident, but frankly, she was angry and hurt, and she didn't care if it was good for her or not. She put on music of her own to drown out the party noise, and she ignored the intense burn of the firewhiskey as she drank too much of it. At first, her nose crinkled with every sip, but then she got good at throwing it back without really tasting it, and then she liked it. But the alcohol didn't stop her tears, angry and salty as they trailed lines down her cheeks. About halfway through the bottle, Layla waved her wand, laughing darkly when Dorcas's bed filled with slimy toads.

Layla decided the part of it all that made her angriest was knowing that Regulus didn't give a damn about Dorcas's existence. She was sure Dorcas's only interest in Regulus was to make Layla angry, at which she had, admittedly, succeeded, but Layla was certain that Regulus had intentionally picked Dorcas to make Layla jealous, and she couldn't forget the many times he had derided Dorcas for her Muggleborn status. He knew that Dorcas was a girl he could use as he saw fit and throw away without having to worry about his family's pureblood nonsense, because she was Muggleborn, and he was a Death Eater. If she became a problem later, it would be easy enough for him to get rid of her, and he knew that would only hurt Layla's feelings more. She knew it wasn't fair to either of them for her to be jealous now that he'd finally gone for someone else, but that was just it. She knew he didn't give a damn about her friend; he was just using her to dig it at Layla's heart, and it was working.

Unfortunately, after about ten minutes, the croaking of the toads only served to piss Layla off more, so she turned the toads into constrictor snakes instead. Of course, snakes got her thinking about Slytherins, which got her thinking about Regulus, which brought back the image of Dorcas throwing herself at him. Then a dark idea entered her mind. It was a bad, bad idea, and Layla knew it. But she was considerably past tipsy at that point, and just drunk and jealous enough to decide to do it anyway.

Layla slipped as quietly and steadily as she could manage down to the common room. The party still raged as the night approached curfew, but there was still time for what she wanted to do. No one paid her any mind as she slipped out of Ravenclaw and down to the dungeons. Inebriated as she was, it took her a couple tries to find the correct spot on the wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin common room, but she managed it. Of course, at the same time she gave the brick wall the password, it opened anyway, with Barty Crouch, Jr. just exiting. "Layla!" he exclaimed. "Do you know where Regulus is? It's not normal for him to not come back to the dorm after a Quidditch game to at least clean up and shower."

A dark, saccharine smile crept over Layla's face. She answered, "Actually, I know exactly where he is, and you just won't believe what he's up to."

March 27, 1978

The Slytherins had been surprisingly gracious to Layla; even allowing Layla to sleep in one of the seventh year girls' dorms that had an extra bed. A girl named Alecto Carrow was the only other girl in that dorm room. Layla had never really talked to Carrow before, but the two shared several classes and, for tonight at least, seemed to get along well enough. Layla shared what was left of the firewhiskey with Alecto, and the two girls commiserated over loves won and lost, then plotted all the different ways they could hex the dicks off their exes. The whole experience was delightfully cathartic for Layla.

The next morning, however, had been less pleasant, as Layla and Alecto shared hangovers from the excess of firewhiskey. The whole Sunday, the two girls didn't leave Slytherin house, but after lunch, Crouch brought them an exciting story about Dorcas's horror as she ranted to the seventh year Gryffindor girls about the supposedly "hundreds" of snakes she'd found in her bed late that night. Naturally, Dorcas had accused Layla of the deed to anyone who would listen, telling people that Layla was "mad with jealousy." It served only to make Layla laugh more.

Crouch also shared that that morning, Regulus had finally returned to Slytherin, but no one had said anything to him about Layla being there or about his prolonged absence. A twinge of guilt filled Layla's stomach, but she pushed it aside. Her request of Barty Crouch wasn't half as cruel as what Narcissa Black had done to her out of jealousy back at Halloween, and that was her justification to herself as she continued to sober up. It was a silly, childish prank, and nothing more.

Monday morning at breakfast, the idea seemed less amusing, but it was too late. She'd already helped Crouch slip into her Ravenclaw dorm in the middle of the night. Layla was in the common room, just about to slip out with her homework to go to class, when a heart-stopping shriek filled the tower. Dorcas came running down the stairs, still in pajamas. Her normally tight, curly dark hair moved with a life of its own, slithering and hissing, black scales absorbing most of the morning light. Kids around the common room began to laugh as they realized that Dorcas's hair had been turned to snakes. "Danes!" she shrieked. "Don't you fucking hide from me, you jealous little bitch! I know you did this! And I know you left those snakes in my bed the other night too!"

Layla snorted with laughter. "I don't know what you mean, Meadowes, but I certainly didn't do it. But hey, maybe you're not entirely Muggleborn after all! Maybe you're part Gorgon." The laughter in the common room only increased in volume at that comment.

"Shut up!" Dorcas screeched, turning her wand on Layla. "Leave me the fuck alone, you little Death Eater whore. You're just jealous Regulus gave you up for me."

Layla clicked her tongue. "Oh, why would I have to be jealous over that? A non-pureblood getting sexual with Regulus Black, of all people? I'm not stupid enough to sign my own death warrant like that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dorcas hissed, prompting several loud hisses from her lively hair.

"It means," Layla said with a smirk. "That you'd best hope his mother doesn't hear about this if you expect to live past graduation. Oh, or his cousins. You have met them, right? Bellatrix LeStrange and Narcissa Black? Really all the women in his family are right little psychopaths, so I'd be a lot more worried about them than me, if I were you."

"Is that a threat?" Dorcas demanded.

Layla laughed as lightly as she could manage, ignoring her conscience screaming at her to shut her mouth. "Of course not! You're my best friend, after all. I'd never wish you ill. But you see, Regulus already knows all that, too, how his family would kill any Muggleborns he may have slept with to prevent potential tainting of his family line. Just makes me wonder what his intentions toward you really are, that's all." Dorcas was paralyzed by fear, unable to respond other than her jaw dropping in horror. Layla waved her wand, easily counter-cursing the spell the Slytherin boys had put on Dorcas's hair. "Well, see you in class, Meadowes," Layla said with a sweet smile before turning around and strutting confidently from the common room.

Lunch rolled around, and Layla cheerfully sat herself at the Slytherin table, with Alecto Carrow on her left and Regulus Black on her right. Regulus nearly choked on his potatoes in surprise, not expecting her to join them. Layla leaned in close and whispered in her sweetest voice, "I know why you picked her, Regulus. You don't get to play games with my friends to get at me, to knowingly put my friends in harm's way to make me jealous. I don't care who you sleep with in the future, but you damn well won't be playing with that particular 'toy' anymore unless you want to be gutted like a fish, got it?"

At first, Regulus was too shocked to respond, and Layla thought she'd won. As she turned to join Alecto and Barty's conversation, though, Regulus suddenly grabbed her by the jaw with his left hand and forced her to look him in the eye, and she realized she'd pissed him the bloody hell off. "It seems you've got it all twisted, so let's just get a few things straightened back out here," Regulus growled, and for the first time, Layla could actually see in him, that yes, he did share the same genetics as Bellatrix LeStrange, and it definitely frightened her. "You seem to be forgetting which of us is a Death Eater and which one isn't." He grabbed her hand and placed it on the inside of his left arm, twisting her arm across her body in the process. "I'll thank you to keep your threats to a minimum; we both know Lucius can only go so far to protect you. And for the record, I didn't sleep with Meadowes. Not because I knew it would upset you, but because I simply didn't want to, no matter how much she kept throwing herself at me. She made the first move in the common room, by the way. I snogged her because it was a shitty day and it damn well felt good. If it bothers you so damn much to see me snogging someone else, why don't you go take your sexual frustrations out on Malfoy? You'll remember him; he's your fiance. Because you've officially turned me down too many times for me to want to torture myself over you anymore, love."

Regulus let Layla's face and arm go with a rough push away, stood up, and stormed out of the Great Hall. Layla rubbed gently at her chin as it dawned on her just how many mistakes she'd made over the last couple days. She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, and she turned to face Alecto. "You good?" Alecto asked.

Layla looked back at where Regulus had disappeared out the doors of the Great Hall, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

April 1, 1978

"You're an idiot."

Snape declared it so matter-of-factly, that Layla didn't even blink for a second. When the insult sank in, she snorted wryly. "Yeah, I know."

"Someone is likely going to say something about Regulus and that girl to Bellatrix in an attempt to curry her favor, and that Mudblood girl of yours is probably going to die. That's your fault," Snape said coldly as he joined her at the railing of the Astronomy Tower.

Layla readjusted her forearms as she continued to lean on the railing. "I know."

"Are you fine with that?"

Layla sighed heavily. "No."

"Good." Layla raised a surprised eyebrow at him as he leaned on the railing beside her. "You should never get to the point where someone dying, especially being murdered, is truly fine with you. No matter who it is. That's the point where you start to lose your humanity."

Interested in this newly revealed philosophical side of Severus Snape, Layla pressed, "Then why did you join the Death Eaters?"

Snape grinned slightly, then raised his black sleeve to show her his left forearm. His skin was pale and smooth, unmarked. "I haven't yet. Most likely, the Dark Lord will offer me initiation this summer, after graduation. Unless, of course, Lily…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "Regulus getting the mark so young was a rather unique occasion."

Layla nodded in understanding. "So, you're saying that the point you stop feeling bad about murder… that's the point when you've lost your humanity? Not the actual committing of the murder?"

Snape nodded. "I believe so." Layla stared up at the stars and the waning moon, lost in thought for a few minutes. Then Snape added unexpectedly, "Who telleth a tale of unspeaking death? Who lifteth the veil of what is to come?"

Layla couldn't place who wrote it or where she had read it, but she recognized his words as lines of poetry. Looking at his eyes, ink-black in the darkness, Layla asked, "Poetry?" Snape shrugged, the depths of his soul ever-hidden. She thought for a moment, struggling to remember a poem she'd once loved. "Darkling, I listen; and for many a time, I have been half in love with easeful Death…" She struggled to remember the next line. "Now, more than ever, seems it rich to die."

Snape chuckled darkly. "Do not go gentle into that good night," he quoted with a bit of amusement on his face, the first time Layla thought she'd ever seen him really enjoying anything. "Old age should burn and rave at close of day; rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Layla teased, "I didn't expect you of all people to have the soul of a poet. It seems… too gentle for you."

Snape's face hardened a little as he started to close himself off to her again. "Yes, well, not everything about me is all darkness and evil and death, I suppose, now is it? Who could live with the burden of such a demented soul?" Layla thought for a moment, but finding no answer, she shook her head. "Lily's dating Potter now, you know. I don't hold it against her. I desperately wish she'd chosen anyone but him, but I don't get to have an opinion on it. Not to her face, at least. I'm learning to accept that." Layla watched him as he stared down at his hands for a moment before continuing. "You and Regulus aren't that incredibly different from Lily and I. You should learn to let him go, no matter who he chooses to go with. He's doing that for you. Just keep your mouth shut and your feelings inside, no matter how much it hurts. It'll be better for both of you in the long run. Maybe you'll get luckier than I and manage to stay best friends." Layla nodded thoughtfully, guilt over her behavior earlier in the week clouding her chest. "No Occlumency lesson tonight. I think we could both use some rest." Without waiting for her response, Snape turned quickly on his heel and rushed from the tower.

April 2, 1978

The next morning, Layla caught Regulus as he left the dungeon to go to breakfast. He sighed, rolling his eyes as she walked up to him. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"To apologize," Layla forced herself to say, no matter how bitter the words tasted on her tongue.

"Why?"

"Because I've been a bloody bitch this week," Layla admitted. "I… overreacted to last weekend. I promise, I won't say another word to you about Dorcas or any other girl you decide to snog. It's officially no longer any of my business. I'm marrying Lucius, and you are perfectly free to chase whatever skirts you like. I'm sorry for how I handled it."

Regulus's face softened. "Yeah, well… I didn't have to rub your nose in it," he admitted quietly. "I'm sorry, too. And… sorry if I scared you at breakfast the other morning."

Layla shrugged, tugging at her sleeve and shifting her weight back and forth. "Your goal was to scare me; you accomplished it. I'd say it was fair."

Regulus chuckled darkly. "It was a bit overdramatic, but sure. Whatever. We've both kind of been drama queens this whole semester really, huh?" Layla laughed a little. "Can we just… pretend the last few months never happened and go back to being friends?"

"Merlin, yes, please," Layla said, letting out a deep breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She hesitated for only a moment before pushing, "Best friends?"

Regulus smiled a little wider. "Yes, best friends."