There's a little voice running through my head reminding me of those stupid things I said. I let the monsters in my bed, they say. On the upside, everything's going to be just fine. I'm already dead on the inside; nobody can hurt me now. On the outside, having the time of my life, hanging out with people I don't like. Nobody can hurt me now. – Mothica, upside

May 6, 1978

"So, Rabastan," Professor Slughorn asked over a dessert of parfait. "How is your older brother, Rodolphus? I do hope you'll give him my best."

A fairly small circle of students sat at a dining table with the Professor for another of his dinner parties. Layla had only started being invited to these parties since her engagement over Christmas break, but this was the first she'd bothered to attend. Previously, she'd always made excuses about needing to see Lucius instead. This weekend, Lucius had insisted she go and pretend to have a nice time – some nonsense reason about a dinner party adding some semblance of pureblood social life and sense of normalcy to her life. Layla thought that was a load of crap and that he just wanted her to take advantage of Slughorn being a well-connected person.

"He's quite well," Rabastan answered with a proud grin, toying with his spoon in his parfait more than being genuinely interested in the confection. "After graduation, he and I have plans to go hunting with Nedodren Scott."

"Oh, the Division of Beings Head at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? I know Ned rather well; do give him my best when you see him, Rabastan." Rabastan nodded, his smug smile never fading as he made eye contact across the table with Layla. Layla dropped her eyes to her parfait, ignoring him thoroughly. She couldn't imagine that in a week's time he hadn't seen the photo of her with Bellatrix and him. He hadn't said anything about it yet, but if he did, she fully planned to hex him into next week. Turning his attention, Slughorn asked, "What about you, Miss Evans? Do you have any plans for after graduation? All my seventh years must be terribly excited and making their plans, of course, as bright as your futures are. Truly a talent."

Lily Evans shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat. Layla knew why; Lily must be planning to join the Order of the Phoenix with the Marauders, and why wouldn't she? She was Muggleborn; she didn't have another choice besides staying out of the war. And Gryffindors don't back down from a fight, no matter the odds of winning. "Well," Lily said slowly. "I'm still deciding. How many N.E.W.T.s I get when we take exams will probably determine it."

Rabastan gave a tiny cough, trying to cover his amused skepticism. Layla caught it anyway; he knew as well as she did, then, that Lily must mean to join the Order. Had Rabastan taken the Dark Mark yet, she wondered? She knew Snape hadn't last they had spoken about it. Maybe the pair of them were waiting for graduation to take it. She glanced over at Regulus; he already had been branded for certain. Why would anyone want to mark him specifically so young? What was the point? It only could make sense as a desperate show of loyalty on behalf of the Black family after Sirius had probably embarrassed them by refusing the mark and running away from home.

"And how is your family doing, Layla?" A Hufflepuff girl was asking, making Layla jump. What was her name again? Bones, maybe. The girl smirked at her as if she knew she was asking an uncomfortable question. "American, aren't they?"

Layla did her best to let a cold, hard, emotionless mask slip over her face the way the silver Death Eater mask had once hidden her true identity away for a night. "British, on a trip abroad in America," Layla corrected, her voice as unfeeling as she could make it, even while her lungs barely functioned and her heart pounded. "They were murdered last summer before I came to Hogwarts. Strange, I thought everyone had heard by now."

"A truly tragic loss, I'm sure," Slughorn said sympathetically. "It's never easy to lose a member of one's family."

"Was the killer ever caught?" Theodore Moss, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, pressed Layla.

Layla narrowed her eyes, then slowly shook her head. She knew what rumors had spread early in the school year about her; she knew what Moss was cruelly trying to imply. The very idea that she could have raised a hand against her parents to hurt them herself… She took a sip of her wine, drowning out the trauma of remembering what had truly happened to them, then answered coolly, "Unfortunately, no. The Americans don't seem to be particularly proficient at catching dark magic extremists."

"Can't imagine what that's like," Lily muttered bitterly under her breath, stabbing her spoon into her half-eaten dessert.

"At least the Ministry's trying to do something about it here," Regulus offered, hopeful as always to avoid the subject of politics and yet deftly failing to redirect the conversation to a lighter topic.

James Potter, taking Lily's hand under the table, snapped, "Right, because Minchum throwing more dementors at the people already in Azkaban and authorizing Auror use of the Cruciatus Curse is going to help solve things."

Rabastan's smile darkened, and it made Layla nervous. "Don't you find that the Cruciatus Curse can be very effective in getting at the truth?" he asked, pushing James's buttons.

"The only thing that spell gets is whatever the caster wants to hear," Lily said, raising her voice as she stared dead at Rabastan, daring him to argue with her. "There's a reason that curse is illegal, just like there's a reason that torture is illegal in the Muggle world. It doesn't work, and it violates basic human rights."

"Don't Death Eaters deserve it, though?" Bones said. "They're the worst of wizarding kind. The whole lot of them ought to rot in Azkaban forever."

"They're still human beings," Lily argued. "As such, they have as much right to a trial and due process as anyone else."

"And would you still say that if it had been your Muggle parents who'd been murdered, Evans?" Rabastan prodded, and James shot out of his seat. Layla thought for a moment that James would punch Rabastan's daylights out, but Lily's hand locked in his seemed to hold him back. Still glaring at Rabastan, James let out a heavy breath and sat back down.

"Well, perhaps some of us have a had a little too much wine," Slughorn joked uneasily. "And goodness, look at the time! All of you had best get back to your houses, or you may get in trouble for breaking curfew." With that, Slughorn dismissed everyone, quickly and politely herding the small Slug Club out into the hallway.

Moss shoulder-checked Layla as he passed her out the door, turning around with a mocking smile. "Can you even still find your house, Danes? It moves so frequently. Living somewhere down in the dungeons these days, eh?"

"Sod off, Moss," Layla growled, no longer in the mood to play off his pointed words.

Regulus put a hand on Layla's shoulder, and it was only when his grip tightened gently that Layla realized that her wand was in her hand and she had tried to lunge for Moss. Moss's eyes filled with genuine fear, and he turned quickly on his heel and ran for Ravenclaw. "He's not worth it," Regulus muttered, squeezing Layla's shoulder again to reassure her.

Rabastan's arm wrapping around her waist was far less reassuring. "He's right, darling," Rabastan said, more seriously than he had been before. "Everyone's seen that photo; they know what kind of power we and our friends have. No one will have the nerve to do anything real."

Regulus glared over the top of Layla's head at Rabastan. "Right," he said pointedly. "Because everyone knows better than to lay a hand on what's Lucius Malfoy's more than once, surely."

Rabastan threw Regulus a questioning look, then burst out laughing, but he released his hold on Layla's waist nonetheless. "Right," he replied, casual as you please. "I think we've both learned that lesson, haven't we, Black?" Regulus's face paled, but Rabastan just laughed lightly and started walking toward the Slytherin common room.

Layla grumbled, "Just ignore him, Regulus."

Regulus let her go, and the two followed Rabastan down to the Slytherin common room. Layla collapsed into the nearest chair, exhausted and so ready to be done with the day, but Rabastan's laugh pulled her attention. "Don't think the party's over yet, Danes," he said, waving his wand. A nearby box flew into his hand.

"Oooh, is that Cards Against Muggles?" Alecto said excitedly as she appeared from the girls' dormitory corridor. "I'm game!"

"Cards against what?"

"Cards Against Muggles," Regulus repeated. "One of the older students invented it a few years ago, and it got left behind when they graduated. It's become a bit of a regular pastime in Slytherin ever since."

"Come on, Danes, play with us. It's about combining cards to make the funniest jokes. You'll have a great time," Alecto pleaded. Layla rolled her eyes but joined the small, growing circle of students on the floor in front of the fireplace. All in all, when the game finally started, the players included Layla, Regulus, Alecto, Rabastan, Snape, Rosier, and Alecto's younger brother Amycus.

As cards were passed around, Rabastan filled in his buddies, who hadn't been invited to Slughorn's party, on what they'd missed, particularly relishing how he had gotten under James's skin by needling at Lily. "What's so damn special about that Evans girl anyway?"

Snape stiffened, but said nothing as he counted his cards. "A lot of boys like her; they think she's pretty," Alecto said, watching Rabastan out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction. "I know Severus here certainly does."

Snape's mouth set in a hard line, and without looking up from his cards, said coldly, "I wouldn't touch a filthy little mudblood like her, whatever she looked like." The comment took Layla, who knew how incredibly untrue it was, aback, but Alecto looked pleased.

Rabastan snorted in cruel amusement at Snape's insult. Regulus rolled his eyes and passed Layla one of his pumpkin pasties; she took it silently, studying the response on her cards. She didn't entirely know what to make of them.

"Ok. Danes, Snape, Black, Rosier," Rabastan rattled off. "You're up first. Answer me this: What is there a ton of in heaven?"

Snape threw down a card. "Death Eaters."

Rosier snickered. "Kiss-ass," he said, then tossed his card in the circle. "Devil's Snare."

After a moment of thought and a glance at Layla, he showed his card choice. "Filthy mudbloods." The group laughed hard at that one, and Layla forced herself to fake a laugh with them. Regulus refused to make eye contact with her again.

Layla looked over her cards one more time, then laid one down. "Dragons."

Alecto teased, "Oh, that one's pathetic, Layla. Don't hold back next round!"

"Regulus wins," Rabastan declared, passing the stack of question cards to Alecto.

While Alecto chose her question, Rosier asked, "So, Danes, what's up with you and Rabastan? Just can't leave our boy alone, can you?"

Rabastan chuckled, sorting through his answer cards and watching Layla curiously. Sighing, Layla leaned back with one hand propping her up, the other holding her cards. "I don't know, Rosier. What's up with you and sticking your ugly nose in other people's business?" Rabastan nearly choked on his Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans as he burst out laughing.

Rosier's eyes narrowed, and he lifted a finger to point at her and argue, but Alecto cut him off. "Ok! Amycus, Regulus, Rabastan, and Layla. Fill in the blank: I'm no healer, but I'm pretty sure what you're suffering from is called…"

Amycus grinned from his seat next to his sister and handed her his card choice. "Dragon Pox."

Rabastan shook his head. "Sorry, kid, but you lose. Gryffindors." The group snickered, and even Layla could genuinely laugh at that answer. It did feel like Gryffindors had always been the source of her problems, even before her time jump. The kids in the house of courage had always been doing one thing or another to either disrupt classes or just generally nearly get people killed. Stupid Chosen One and his buddies… even as she thought it, she missed them.

A smirk appeared on Regulus's face. "I win," he declared. "Blood Traitors."

Rosier laughed, "Yeah, you'd know all about that problem, wouldn't you, Black? How's your brother?"

"Wouldn't know. I'd ask you how your mother was, Rosier, but I already spent the night with her last night, so I probably have better information," Regulus shot back without even so much as looking up from his cards.

Even Snape cracked a smile at that one. Layla knew Hermione Granger would've given her a dirty look for this answer card as she tossed it on the pile, but, well, Hermione wasn't here. "House elves eavesdropping."

Alecto giggled. "Oh, Layla wins! Well done."

Layla smiled a little at her new roommate. This week had been hard as hell; as stupid as it was, it felt good to be just a little inappropriate and win something for once. Alecto handed Layla the questions box, and she ignored Rosier's bickering with Snape as she chose her question card. "All right, ummm… Snape, Regulus, Alecto, and Rabastan. Bow before me, for I am the queen of…"

Snape studied his cards, then chose one and tossed it to Layla. "Purebloods."

Rabastan grinned. "Yeah, even with the Malfoy name, that's not a title she'll ever get."

Layla's face burned with a mix of embarrassment, anger, and wine. Her next words came unbidden, and she regretted them the instant they were out of her mouth for how horrible and unlike her they were. "Don't worry, LeStrange, that won't ever be something you'll have to worry about me shooting for. We all know you're the only queen the purebloods need."

Nonetheless, the other kids all cracked up, even Rabastan. "Ok, fine, I earned that one," Rabastan admitted lightly. He added his card to the pile. "Slytherin. My other cards didn't make much sense sadly."

Layla forced a smile. She wasn't sure she'd ever be truly comfortable with this crowd, but… Maybe she was at least starting to fit in with them. Alecto offered up her answer card. "Muggles."

Rosier sneered, "Queen of Muggles? I think Evans is upstairs somewhere." Rabastan laughed, but Layla noticed Snape's eyes harden as he stared at the card pile.

"Nurmengard," Regulus read off his card, then threw it on the pile. He seemed… edgy.

"Umm," Layla thought for a moment, then picked. "Regulus wins."

"What a surprise," Rosier drawled.

"It was a good answer," Alecto defended, gathering the cards to return to the main answer deck.

"Everyone knows about you two, you know," Rosier pressed, ignoring Alecto. "Is it a valid win if there's bias?"

"Yes, it is," Rabastan decided. "I think you're just upset you can't get in her pants, Rosier. Jealous, are we?"

"No fucking way," Rosier growled, getting upset. "Like I'd ever want this pureblood groupie."

"She's not like that," Regulus snapped, tossing down his cards.

"Like anyone's going to believe that coming from one of her boyfriends," Amycus mocked, clearly pleased to even be included for once as a fifth year student.

Rabastan said coolly, "Watch your mouth, kid. Remember who you're talking to. Or do you need the Dark Lord to remind you?"

"You're not branded yet," Rosier accused angrily. "Like he'd mark you before graduation and not the rest of us."

Rabastan smirked darkly. Unbuttoning the left sleeve of his charcoal dress shirt, he casually pulled the sleeve up, revealing, for just long enough for Layla to see, the Dark Mark, blacker than the darkest shadows, burned into the pale skin of Rabastan's forearm. Pulling his sleeve back down, he said nonchalantly as he buttoned it closed again, "Anyone who tells what they've just seen to anyone outside this circle gets a Killing Curse in the back. Understood?"

Almost immediately, Rabastan cast a sidelong glance at Layla. Then she remembered; she was technically the outsider here, the one whose trust was still somewhat questionable. She nodded quickly, as Regulus took the questions box. "Whatever, let's move on." He pulled a card and called on Snape, Rosier, Alecto, and Rabastan. "Which one of you stupid mudbloods is responsible for blank?"

Rosier offered a card with a wry grin. "Dumbledore."

Seemingly from nowhere, Rabastan produced a bottle of firewhiskey and offered it to Layla across the circle. She blinked at it for a moment, then accepted it and took a long swig straight from the bottle before giving it back. She doubted he'd be stupid enough to dose her twice after what Lucius had done to him last time; plus, she had Regulus at her side this time. It was just booze; she'd be fine. Snape tossed out his card. "House elves."

Alecto giggled as she read her card. "The IRA."

Rabastan thought for another moment, then added his card. "The bombing of Nagasaki."

A wild giggle slipped from Layla's throat. Maybe the drink had some Giggle Juice in it? But Regulus was snickering too, and she realized she was genuinely laughing at Rabastan's joke. It was horrible and hilarious at the same time; did that make her a bad person? "Rab, that was tempting, but Alecto wins."

The game continued for some time, with the firewhiskey and snacks passed among the kids, until the Carrows both went to bed, Rosier rage quit after a stupid argument with Snape over who really won a round, and it was only Regulus, Rabastan, and Layla left. Layla's mood had lifted considerably as they played, relaxing as she began to accept that as horrible as these people had been when she'd known them as adults… right now, tonight, they were just kids like her. Not good, not evil, no Order, no Death Eaters, no war, just kids, playing a silly, inappropriate game, drinking, and procrastinating studying for the upcoming exams.

As Layla's head began to spin from the drinking, she made a small, involuntary whining sound and was surprised when Rabastan, who sat on the floor leaning against the nearest sofa facing the fireplace, pulled her over to him from her spot a few feet away. She thought she caught Regulus glaring at Rabastan, but he said nothing, and then Layla was suddenly staring at the shadowy ceiling as Rabastan pulled her down to lay her head in his lap. Closing her eyes, she thought about telling him to sod off and going to bed, but then her stomach roiled as she thought about trying to sit back up, and she moaned quietly, turning to face away from the light of the fireplace where she now laid on the floor. The satin purple dress she'd put on for Slughorn's stupid dinner party definitely wouldn't appreciate any puke stains. Rabastan pet her hair, surprisingly gentle. "Danes, when will you learn to handle your liquor?" he teased.

"She'll be fine; you don't have to stay," Regulus practically snarled at the older boy.

Layla couldn't bring herself to add to the argument, but she could feel Rabastan laugh a little. "Relax, Black. I'm not going to touch your precious little halfblood. I don't have a vomit kink."

"I can take her back to her dorm…"

"Reg, I'm fine," Layla tried to insist, but the whine in her tone took away from the believability of her statement.

"Layla…"

"Black." Rabastan's voice was surprisingly affectionate. "Relax, cousin. She already slept with Malfoy. Even if she pounced on me voluntarily, it doesn't matter now. She's safe here in Slytherin. She's family now."

At first, Layla couldn't help the small smile on her face at being declared family. Then her face fell… she missed her parents, her grandparents, her aunt and uncle and cousins… Now her parents were dead, murdered, and the rest lost to some stupid time jump… The tears escaped her before she could put in a conscious effort to hide them, and Rabastan was pulling her up and into his lap and soothing her. "Well done, LeStrange," Black sneered, reaching to take Layla from him.

"Shut up, Black," Rabastan snarled, smacking Regulus's hand away. Softening his voice, Rabastan murmured to Layla, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I said that."

"I miss them," Layla said, clinging to the front of Rabastan's shirt as much to hold herself steady and upright as a source of some small degree of comfort.

Rabastan's hand rubbed up and down her back as she sobbed, and she heard the pain in his voice as Regulus called her name. "Maybe it's time for you to go to bed, Black," Rabastan said icily.

"Maybe you ought to go jump off the Astronomy Tower," Regulus snapped. "It's your fault she overdrank, anyway."

"Black, don't push me…"

"Fuck you, LeStrange."

"Regulus, please," Layla pleaded, forcing her eyes open and to look at Regulus. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look quite so openly distressed in front of anyone other than her before, but his feelings at that moment were incredibly obvious. Whether it was about her tears, Rabastan being untrustworthy alone with her, or his own drinking, she wasn't sure, but it made her wonder if he was actually over her yet. For a second, her heart twisted; she wasn't entirely over him yet, either. "I'll be fine. You're drunk, too, and you're underage. Go sleep it off before the teachers catch you with a hangover tomorrow and give you detention."

Regulus studied his best friend's face for a minute, searching for something… Layla wasn't sure what he found, but he sighed heavily and nodded. "If you're sure… Good night then."

"Good night, Regulus," she mumbled, slurring it a little as she began to crash too.

Regulus hesitated for a brief moment, his warm brown eyes softly agonizing, but eventually he got up and walked away, picking up the green tie he'd worn to dinner from the sofa arm on his way out of the common room. The common room sat seemingly empty, quiet aside from the crackle of the flames in the fireplace, now burning low and dark as it gradually burned itself out. Rabastan continued to pet her back, the silence settling comfortably over the only two remaining students in the room. Unable to fight it anymore, she let her head rest against his chest, his loosened black tie brushing her nose as she did. "I'm sorry about Halloween, Layla," he murmured into her hair.

"That again, huh?" she said sarcastically. "I don't know if I buy that. But thanks, I guess."

"I'm serious." Layla snorted, so Rabastan insisted, "I mean it. I regret doing that to you. It was cruel and unfair. And believe it or not, I happen to like you."

"What, you want me to forgive you?"

"It would be nice if you could. I might deserve for you to hate me forever, but I'd like it if you didn't."

"Whatever," Layla blew it off, still disbelieving. But after a few minutes spent in the quiet, being lulled towards sleep by the steady rhythm of Rabastan's breath, she softened. "Fine. I guess since you didn't actually… I guess I can forgive you for trying to. But don't think that means I won't have my guard up with you still."

"Fair enough." His chin brushed the top of her head as he turned to look at something. "Is it true you killed your parents?"

"What the fuck, Rab?" Layla growled, pushing away from him, but his arms were wrapped too tightly around her waist for her to go anywhere. Tears welled up unbidden in her eyes again as phantom blood spattered across her vision. "You're sick."

"It's a fair question."

"Never," Layla bit out, meeting his dark eyes. "And fuck you for thinking I could have."

"Hey, I saw your curse work in Norfolk. You can be deadly when you want to be," Rabastan said, but his gaze held zero judgment toward her.

"They're my fucking parents," Layla said, her voice turning thin and watery as the urge to cry became too much to control again. "I loved them and tried so hard to protect them and… and… and…"

Rabastan soothed Layla's dark curls. "There, there. It's all right. You're safe here."

Lost in the memory of the moment of their capture and deaths, she was no longer entirely aware of her surroundings. Tears streamed down her face again without her permission. "They – they took my wand, and it all happened so fast, then so slow… They were so vicious, and there was so much blood…"

"Wait, you were there?" Rabastan asked, truly shocked. "Layla… I had no idea. I thought, assuming you hadn't done it, that you were here in the UK when they died."

"It was so horrible, and it was all my fault…" she slurred through the whiskey and the tears. "I couldn't save them…" Her forehead dropped back to his chest.

Rabastan frowned. '"That's not your fault, and it was not your job to save them. As wizards, they should have had the power to save themselves and protect you."

"They shouldn't have had to. It wasn't their fight or their world."

Rabastan mulled that over for a moment. "Are you saying your parents were Muggles?"

Layla's eyes popped open. Fuck. She'd said the wrong thing to the wrong person. Stupid fucking firewhiskey. "Just my mother…" she lied, slowly, hoping to get away with it, unscathed. "My dad was a pureblood." She felt Rabastan stiffen. "Fuck you; you already knew I was a halfblood," she snapped, trying again to stand up. He let her pull away but had to catch her when the dizziness got her again and she lost her balance, crashing back down to his lap. "Let me go, LeStrange."

"Go where, Layla? I doubt Malfoy would thank me for letting you bang up your pretty face because you're too drunk to walk on your own."

"Fuck you, you stupid pureblood prick."

"Would you just relax? I won't tell the others about your mother."

Layla's eyes snapped to his. "What?"

Rabastan shrugged. "I won't deny it if it comes up, but there's no reason for me to tell anyone, either. So can you just relax, please? I don't need you vomiting on me trying too hard to get up and walk."

Hesitating, Layla asked, "Why would you do that for me? What if someone like the Dark Lord asks?"

"Why would he? As if I'm likely to know?" A sparkle of mischief lit his dark eyes. "If he asked, I might tell him. I admit that. My first loyalty will always be to the Dark Lord over friends or family. But he won't ask me. He'll demand Black tell him for that kind of shit about you. Or Malfoy. But no one exactly expects me to know shit since we haven't been particularly close since Halloween."

Layla's eyes narrowed. "You don't do things out of the kindness of your heart. What do you want?"

Rabastan's grin widened. "Clever girl," he cooed, cupping Layla's face in his hand. "I'm not sure what I want yet. But it's good that you know that you owe me for this. Can't have you believe I'm a soft pushover like Black and Malfoy and Snape."

"Snape?"

Snorting derisively, Rabastan said, "Yeah, he's soft as hell for Evans. I think he'd defy the Dark Lord himself if it protected that mudblood. Man's a fool; everyone's seen how in love she is with Potter this year. He can't compete with that, and I don't see why he'd want to, but…" A throb of pain echoed in Layla's head. She was starting to sober up a little, and the hangover was kicking in. She bit her lip and tried not to whine from the ache the way she wanted to, the way she would have if she felt truly safe right now. He tutted, brushing his thumb across her temple. "What's the matter, Danes? Cat got your tongue?"

"Headache," she answered, knowing the truth would get her farther than a lie would this time. She opened her eyes again to catch Rabastan licking his lips and staring at her with a little more fire than felt appropriate. Her hand found her wand in her dress pocket. "Don't even think about it," she threatened, pulling it free and holding the point of her wand just under his chin.

He chuckled. "Oh, Layla, darling, I wouldn't do that if I were you. You'll just turn me on." She froze, unsure of herself now. "Don't worry; I meant what I said before. Forcing you wouldn't serve any purpose now; I won't do anything to you now that you're family. Unless of course, you threaten me with a good time." Layla shivered, not willing to think about what that meant in his mind. His thumb wiped a stray tear off her cheek. "I'll think about what my price is for my silence. I'm sure you'll be able to afford it."

"No," Layla said, pulling away from him and making it to her feet this time. Her head pounded, and she nearly threw up then and there, but she stayed steady. "Fuck you. I don't care who you tell. Everyone already knows I'm a halfblood, and they're already dead, so it doesn't even matter anyway."

Another throb in her head, and her stomach churned. She must've pulled a face, because, in an instant, Rabastan was on his feet, pulling her to his side. She fought to get free, but he held onto her tightly. "Fine, the price is don't make yourself fucking sick," he hissed, struggling to keep hold of her still. "The last fucking thing I need is you throwing up in the common room and fucking Black telling Malfoy it's my fault because it was my damn firewhiskey. I'm not likely to live through another tangle with him over you. So just let me help you to bed, and I'll keep quiet; all right, darling?"

Layla stopped thrashing, much to her stomach's relief. She studied his face, questioning if she could trust this, but the mischief was replaced by his fear. He genuinely seemed afraid of what Lucius might do to him if he thought he'd messed with her again. A smirk lit up Layla's face. "Fine. Deal."

"Fuck," Rabastan cursed. "If I help, can you make it to your room, or do you need to crash on the sofa here?"

Layla thought for a moment, but her bed sounded like heaven just then. "Bed, please," she breathed, the tension of the previous moment finally deflating.

"All right, darling; let's go then." She thought he would just walk with her. Instead, he swept her right off her feet as if she weighed nothing and carried him to her dorm room, despite her many protests, curses, and threats of hexing. When they reached the door to her and Alecto's shared room, he finally set her down. "Good night, Layla," he said, a teasing tone to his voice as he stepped back from her.

"Good night, Rab," Layla replied, dropping the nickname the other Slytherins called him with all the sharp, false nicety of a unicorn horn. He laughed as he turned and walked away in favor of his own bed. Layla shut the door, crossed the room, and dropped onto her bed with a groan. Fuck, that man would be the death of her one day.

May 8, 1978

Far too early in the morning, far earlier than was her habit to be up, Layla hesitated in front of the mirror, weighing two different ties in her hands as she dressed for classes, Ravenclaw in one hand and Slytherin in the other. The package of new Slytherin uniforms had arrived from Lucius a few days ago, and she'd ignored it, unwilling to deal with the idea of losing her house identity along with everything else. The uniforms had sat shoved in a drawer, along with every letter Lucius had sent all week, unopened, until this morning. She glanced up at her reflection in the mirror, holding the two ties up to herself to compare them. Her dark hair had gotten curlier and wilder with the more humid air of the Slytherin dungeon over the week, and she wasn't sure she recognized the girl in the mirror anymore. When had the name Danes become so normal to her, become who she was? Was Layla Emerson dead now, lost at the hands of Death Eaters and time magic? The name Danes still didn't quite fit, but then again, nothing she had said or done in this new incarnation had seemed like her since she time traveled back twenty years.

After a whole week and a weekend spent living and breathing all things Slytherin, Layla wondered… maybe it wouldn't be so bad to graduate as a Slytherin over a Ravenclaw. But could she surrender that last part of herself? The good, sweet, quiet Ravenclaw girl who didn't choose war, but fought bravely in it anyway when it chose her and her friends; the Muggleborn Ravenclaw who had only ever wanted to learn magic and art and beautiful things, but instead was forced to learn self-defense, deadly destruction, and chaos… Who even was she anymore? She certainly wasn't Layla Emerson, the well-behaved smart girl who liked quiet rainy nights curled up in the Ravenclaw common room with a good novel and sneaked around when forced to learn defensive magic. That girl had been willing to get on a thestral and fly to the Ministry of Magic to try to free a friend's godfather from the Dark Lord's hands, without even acknowledging how far over their heads they all were doing so. That girl thought Quidditch was a waste of time that would be better spent tending the plants in the greenhouses and feeding firecrabs at Hagrid's. Had the pursuit of magic been worth fighting a war? Had being part of the Wizarding World, had Hogwarts been worth the blood and tears? She didn't know anymore.

Slowly, Layla lowered the Ravenclaw tie, taking a closer look at the Slytherin tie held loosely to her neck. Would it really be so terrible to embrace Slytherin house, to feel welcome and at home here, to wear the green and silver over the blue and bronze she was so accustomed to? To let herself really be reborn as someone else? To forget her past and only acknowledge the here and now? She reached to the bathroom counter for her eyeliner, but instead, her hand found the stack of unopened letters. Sighing, she finally allowed herself to open the most recent one, which an owl had woken her up to deliver that very morning.

Dearest Layla, Please write back to me. I am loathed to admit it, but I am growing rather concerned about you. With this news from Slughorn that you have been moved to Slytherin house, and Regulus Black's recent letter concerned about your emotional health and from what he has told me about the bullying in Ravenclaw, I am not sure what to make of not receiving any owls from you. I hope your new Slytherin uniforms have arrived by now, though Black tells me you have continued to dress as a Ravenclaw. I know shifting houses must be incredibly difficult, but I believe in your ability to overcome this obstacle, my dearest. If they simply have not arrived, please let me know, and I will ensure that Madame Malkins' tailors get them to you with more speed. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to write and ask me for it. I would move heaven and earth for you if necessary. I hope to hear from you soon, dearest, to set my heart at ease that you are well. With all my love, Lucius Malfoy

Layla tossed the letter back on the small pile, turning to the mirror to finish her makeup instead. As she swiped on her wine-colored lipstick, she paused and glanced at the Slytherin tie again. She slipped it around her neck, watching carefully in the mirror as she tied it. Layla Malfoy, graduate of Hogwarts, Slytherin house. It was the first time that it had crossed her mind to tie Lucius's name to her own, and yet… it fit. It certainly fit better than Danes, which she had fought not to pull a face at every time she heard it. Layla Malfoy, Slytherin, halfblood. A dark smile curled the corner of her merlot lips as she used one hand to shake her curls loose from where a few strands had caught under her Slytherin tie. The thought of her future name and the man she loved crossed her mind one more time as she picked up her wand and gave it a wave, muttering, "Expecto Patronum." For the first time since she'd slipped through the decades, a brilliant blue light shimmered from her wand, and out of it burst a Raven patronus. Her smile widened as she watched it flutter around her head before landing on the bathroom sink, then dissipating as Layla released the spell. The same creature that had always appeared as her patronus, was now reincarnated, the same, but changed. She gave herself a satisfied smirk in the mirror before turning and setting off to the Great Hall for an early breakfast at the Slytherin table, picking up her new Slytherin cardigan and tossing it over her shoulder on her way out of the dormitory.

That afternoon, Layla sat in the silent, empty corner of the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library, her curls now tamed into a ponytail when they irritated her face and neck, as usual. A stack of study materials sat scattered around the table, ignored, as she took a break to finally write Lucius back at last. I have to admit that I'm struggling. Ravenclaw has been such a part of me, and becoming a Slytherin, I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. But if I'm honest with myself, I really like being a Slytherin. Everyone there is so much nicer. I feel like the other students actually like me and want me around. Like I belong. For the first time in years, I feel like it's ok for me to just relax and chase magic, seek beauty, and believe in romance again. I can't even remember the last time I created something for the simple joy and beauty of it, and now I want to again. Is that wrong, to change like this, even though it's what feels good now? I feel like maybe I'm betraying who I was, becoming this new version of me. But I can't help but feel settled and right as I do…

"Danes." Layla glanced up, surprised to find Remus Lupin standing next to her table, alone. "Mind if I study here with you? The rest of the library is rather crowded."

Layla studied his face for a moment, then dared to assume, "You're hiding from the other Marauders to get some peace to study, aren't you?"

Remus laughed softly. "Yeah, kinda. So can I?"

Waving her wand, Layla levitated some of her books to sit closer to her and clear some space. "Sure."

"Thanks." Remus dropped into the chair across from her, pulling out his study materials. Layla finished her letter, tucking it into her messenger bag to drop by the owlery later, then dove back into her Transfiguration studies. After about an hour of companionable silence, Remus cleared his throat, then said, "So, Slytherin now, huh?" Layla looked up from her book at him, one eyebrow raised, almost daring him to challenge her. "I know it's not my business, but… are you doing ok?"

Layla frowned; it wasn't the question she'd expected. "Do you care?"

This time it was Remus who frowned. "Yes, actually, I do care. I thought we were friends last semester."

"We were."

"Are we not now?"

Layla mulled that question over for a moment, then admitted, "I don't know. Do you still want to be?"

"You're a good person, Layla."

"So are you. Do you have a point?"

"Why Slytherin?"

"Because they were nice and still wanted me even when no one else did."

"We would have had you in Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor came with strings attached."

"And Slytherin doesn't?"

Sighing, Layla closed her book and set it on the table in front of her, dropping one elbow onto the desk and propping her chin on her hand. "What are you getting at, Remus?"

"To see if you're actually doing ok," Remus repeated, leaning forward on his forearms against the table.

Layla narrowed her eyes. "For your own satisfaction, or for Black's?"

Remus tilted his head slightly. "Mine. Would it matter?"

"Yes, it would, actually. I don't need Black's help," Layla said, her voice growing heated.

"Did he offer it?" Remus asked curiously.

"Why are you really here, Remus?" Layla asked again. She wasn't sure she could trust him anymore; he was, after all, Dumbledore's man, through and through.

"Why so suspicious, Layla?" Layla continued to glare at him, not answering. Remus sighed heavily, sitting back in his seat. "Fine. Dumbledore asked me to talk to you again. But for the record, I have never stopped being your friend. You were the one who pulled away from our friendship."

"Your friendship is noted, Remus," Layla said coldly, packing her books into her bag. "But I'm not interested in anything Dumbledore has so kindly asked you to pass on to me."

"It's important."

"Isn't it always with that man? I don't care."

"Layla, it's about You-Know-Who."

"Not my problem," Layla snapped as she stood up, tossing her bag over her shoulder and taking a step toward the library exit.

"It's an offer for you and Malfoy both." Layla froze, her back to Remus now, hesitating. "Dumbledore knows something. I don't know what, but it seems urgent. And you and Malfoy are the only ones who can help."

Layla fidgeted with the strap of her bag, torn. Fighting the Dark Lord would always be the right thing to do, but she'd made her choices already; love over war. But if fighting the war kept her love safe… "What does he want?" she asked, her whisper a little hoarse as her voice fought not to leave her throat.

"I'm not sure exactly," Remus said honestly. "All I know was that I was to tell you that he would protect Malfoy as well as you if you joined the Order of the Phoenix, and that if you're interested, you can visit him in his office anytime."

Another tense beat passed, then another. Layla finally broke the silence and said, her voice shaking as much as her hands, "Ok. Thank you for telling me, Remus. But I'm not interested in being a pawn in another war."

"Layla –"

She didn't wait to hear him argue with her. Layla slipped out of the library without making a sound, not allowing herself to breathe properly until she found herself in the dungeons again. Leaning her back against the cold, stone block wall, she let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline coursing through her veins finally starting to dull. What the hell was she supposed to do with this information?