AN: Hello all. It's been a while and I'm sorry. I got COVID and needed some time to recover from it and seeing everyone at Christmas - ironically that is where I got COVID. Either way, here's chapter 24 and I hope you enjoy it.

I want to give a big thanks to WithPatienceComesPeace and CleverMird for diligently betaing this since the beginning. It's truly great to get feedback from you both :)

P.S: Thank you Guest for your review on Chapter 2. Yes - it is very cannon divergent, lol. Hope you kept enjoying it though.


Chapter 24: One Step Closer


"I need a book from your manor."

Halley tried to say it without any bite, but it was difficult to do. Especially because the only reason Nott would be able to get her what she wanted was that he was the one that had been watching her for Riddle.

"That's a bold request," Nott said pointedly.

"Your Mr Nymous didn't seem to think so," she said.

Nott's blue eyes grew wide, and the look of sheer panic on his face gave her a shot of satisfaction. She didn't even feel ashamed about it. But the look also reinforced exactly what she had suspected.

Nott glanced around the Common Room in a fluster, and Halley was offended. As if she would have this conversation within hearing range of others. "No-one's here," she said. He looked back at her, still with panic, and all of a sudden she was tired.

It stung, and it shouldn't have. She didn't know Nott past the fact that he was her Housemate, but for some reason, she had expected something of him. For some reason, she had thought that he wasn't spying on her for the man who had killed Ginevra Weasley. For some reason, she'd thought that his concern could be taken at face value.

She shouldn't have.

How many more times would she need to feel the sting of disappointment before she finally got that people couldn't be trusted to act in anything but their own interests? The Dursleys had proven that time and time again. Why didn't she listen? What was more disappointing was that some part of her had appreciated that Nott had kept her from making a fool of herself. But that had all just been Riddle, hadn't it?

"How do you –"

"Don't ask stupid questions," she snapped. "Can you get me the book by the end of the week?"

"What book is it?"

"That's not any of your business, is it?" She looked down her nose at him. Nott was sitting on one of the plush chairs in the Common Room, and the height difference made her feel…something. How many times had people looked at her from this same position?

"Can you get it in a week or not?" she asked.

"I can."

"Good."

She wanted to tell him that he had to stop watching her, but he wouldn't listen. Halley had no power in comparison to Riddle. What was worse, she'd seen what he could do to people without a moment's hesitation. It wasn't hard to imagine that he would just…dispose of Nott. Like that woman in Knockturn Alley. Like Weasley. Like countless more. People didn't kill so easily if they didn't have practice at it.

But she had to say something. "I know what you're doing, watching me. But don't trust him."

Nott's face changed to something unreadable. He looked like he was going to speak, but the door to the Common Room opened and a couple of First Years walked through. This wasn't the place to have any sort of conversation to do with Riddle.

She felt the tiny tug of the Vow at her chest. It was small, but it reminded her that she had a promise to keep. And apparently, that promise included Nott. Well then.

"A week, Nott." Halley didn't wait for him to do or say anything. Why should she? He knew she knew now, and if Nott was smart, he would get the book for her as soon as possible. And if he didn't then it wasn't like Riddle could blame her for anything.

Right now, she needed to find Parkinson or Greengrass. Preferably both of them, so she wouldn't need to say the same thing twice. When she looked at the map, it indicated that Greengrass was in the library with her sister, and Parkinson was talking to a professor. She would need to wait till after dinner when they were all together.

It took a day before they were all free and in a secure enough place to talk without worrying someone would overhear them. They really needed to find somewhere to talk without having to congregate so suspiciously, or kicking out Davis and Bulstrode. But Greengrass didn't seem to feel the same urgency.

"To anyone else, we just look like three friends giggling over boys, or schoolwork, or whatever other thing they assume of Third Years," she'd said.

It had confused Halley; she'd never thought about how they might all look like friends to the outside eye. That this was exactly what the girls at primary school, and the ones from all year groups in Hogwarts behaved. But it didn't matter. If it managed to keep people from being suspicious of them, then who was Halley to disagree? So long as they were able to talk, and no-one could actually hear them, then it suited her fine.

"What did you want to talk to us about?" Greengrass asked.

"Remember that man you said was Lord Nott's cousin?" she asked.

"At the ball? What about him?"

"What did he look like?" Even as she said it, Halley knew it would be pointless. Riddle wasn't going to go out and about in Wizarding society without a glamour. He wasn't stupid.

"Tall, blue eyes - though they were a little lighter than the usual Nott eyes. Pale skin, dark hair. He looked like a Nott. Why?"

"Potter?" Parkinson was looking at her warily and Halley felt put on the spot. There were too many pieces to the puzzle that were missing, and she couldn't get a clear grasp on everything that was happening.

Greengrass' description sounded exactly like Riddle. She was confused now; hadn't he glamoured himself at all? That was stupid. But...if people really thought he was Nott's cousin, then why would they question anything? It wasn't like many people outside her and...maybe Dumbledore or the Groundskeeper would be able to identify him.

The Groundskeeper certainly wouldn't have been invited to Malfoy Manor, and she doubted that Dumbledore would have attended even if he was invited.

So the question became would Riddle do something so brazenly open? She wanted to say no, to say that he wasn't the type to go on display like that. But the truth was, Halley knew so little about Riddle that he hadn't spoon-fed her that it was a joke. Who was she to be able to tell whether this was a move on his part or not?

"I think...that man might have been him - or at least...linked to him," she said slowly. The words felt right coming out of her mouth, but that didn't mean they were.

"Him? Like…"

"Yeah."

Parkinson took on a slightly ashen look, and she swallowed. "That - that might have been -"

"Why?" Greengrass cut it. She didn't look ashen, but there was a distinct lack of colour in her normally pink cheeks. Greengrass also looked more determined than Parkinson, though Halley wasn't sure that determined was the right word. Greengrass was...alert.

"I don't know. But if it is him, then…" then what? What was it an indication of? Halley couldn't say. She'd not felt so lost for a long time. If that man was Riddle, he was making a statement. He was telling the world something, but Halley just didn't know what.

"Do you think that's why Nott's been watching you?"

Halley looked at Greengrass, trying to make sense of the words that had just been spoken so casually. Because it sounded like Greengrass had known that Nott had been doing Riddle's bidding.

"You knew?"

"You didn't?" Greengrass countered back. "It wasn't like he was being very subtle about covering for your absentmindedness."

Greengrass hadn't ever sounded so sharp before. More often than not she soothed Parkinson's bluntness, and Halley had never realised just how effective it was at making her think that Greengrass was less of a worry. Or that Halley could focus on more important things around her.

But the sudden shift reminded her that she couldn't. Not for Greengrass, not for Parkinson, for Nott - and not even for Lupin. She couldn't let her guard down as casually as she had been.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Parkinson scoffed, folding her arms, but Halley kept her eyes on Greengrass' cool blue ones. They were giving nothing away.

"Grow up, Potter. Greengrass ad I are pretty busy making sure you don't fuck up."

"You should have told me," Halley repeated.

"And have you freak out over it?" Parkinson asked. "I don't know if you've noticed, but you're barely hanging on by a thread. And you're going off on your own to do stupid things!

Greengrass nodded. "You've been dealing with a lot. This wasn't anything we could change, so what would have been the point in telling you?"

Halley could feel herself growing hot. It started in her stomach and kept growing along with the anger that was building up inside her chest. How dare they treat her like a child? Halley had dealt with so much more than they could ever dream of in their Pureblood mansions. Who were they to withhold information that was about her?

At that moment, Halley wanted to hit Greengrass. She wanted to lunge and wrap her hands around that thin neck and squeeze until Greengrass was gasping for air. She wanted her to feel that helplessness Halley felt every time someone told her it was for her own good.

She wanted Greengrass to feel the fear of wondering if she would wake up this time as the black spots took over her vision.

Like Halley did.

Halley wanted the satisfaction of seeing that realisation in Greengrass' eyes as vessels popped, turning the whites of her eyes a blood red.

Like Vernon must have done.

No! She wasn't him. She wasn't Vernon. Or Petunia. Or Riddle. She - she -

She needed to leave.


Nott had gotten her the book, but the tome was thick and full of archaic language. It was hard to concentrate on it enough to take anything in, and because it had the added bonus of being banned from the school, Halley had to read it when she was sure that no one would question her. But she had underestimated how perceptive Parkinson and Greengrass were, because both of them kept asking her what she had stayed up reading so late at night. She still hadn't told them about her meeting with Riddle.

They'd told her to trust them. They said they were there to help her - and maybe they were to an extent - but she was done just trusting people's words now. Parkinson and Greengrass could help from a distance that best suited Halley.

So she'd said that she was trying to teach herself meditation as per Professor Lupin's instructions. That it might help with casting a Patronus. And when Parkinson had pushed her more, Halley had shrugged and said that it was easier to concentrate at night when no one was awake.

Whether they believed her or not was another matter; they'd been playing political games much longer than she had, but Halley was also a good liar. She'd learnt to be. The Dursleys had taught her how.

It did mean that she had to be careful just when and where she took the book out. Halley would wait until it was the early hours of the morning. Sleep was difficult to do anyway these days; more often than not she'd wake up from a nightmare in cold sweats and the taste of metal in her mouth. She'd bitten the inside of her cheek so much that it was raw, but that wasn't anything unusual.

After a nightmare that left her particularly shaky, Halley peeled herself from the covers and retrieved the book from its hiding space. It was a simple locked box underneath her bed. Witches and Wizards were so used to doing things the magical way that sometimes all it took was something Muggle.

The book was still difficult to read. She had to read passages two or three times before she fully understood what it was saying. How did Riddle expect her to do any of this by herself? Wasn't it a breach of their Vow?

But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of losing. He was right when he'd told her she needed to control herself. Halley was not good under the pressure of things she'd not experienced before. Familiarity was her comfort, but nothing about this situation was familiar. And if she couldn't manage her emotions then she would make stupid mistakes.

The book was very clear about emotions being the key to successfully occluding memories:

Consider a glass of water mixed with oil. When static, the oil and water separate, leaving a layer of oil at the top. If you were to peer down at the glass, you would see through the oil - but not clearly. A film is protecting the water from being breached. Now consider the glass has been shaken; water and oil have mixed. Droplets of oil swirl around the water, difficult to grab or separate. The flurry makes the water easier to see.

This is how Occlumency works. Keeping yourself calm, your emotions placed behind the layer of oil, prevents Legillimens from gauging your thoughts clearly.

In moments of intense emotion, our minds are vulnerable. Our thoughts, ripe for the picking. By clearing one's mind, the Occlumens can create a barrier that defends against the probing gaze. A relaxed mind, one free of emotions, acts in the way of a shield.

The book suggested meditation. It was funny, considering how Lupin had suggested the same thing to help her with her Patronus. But if keeping her mind clear was the way forward, then maybe she would never be able to cast the Patronus.

Halley's eye twitched at the thought, and there was a sudden throbbing at her temple. Like something underneath it was fluttering out of synch with the rest of her body. Halley put down the tome and massaged it until the feeling went away.

Too many thoughts. She had no control.

That's what Riddle had been telling her from the very beginning, and it prickled under her skin. Halley had been controlling her reactions for as long as she could remember. Don't cry. Don't laugh. Don't stare. Don't turn your back away. Don't do anything that could anger them. And most importantly, don't draw attention to yourself.

But to have her lack of control shoved so blatantly in her face like this?

She was weak. The Weasleys had opened her eyes to that, but she'd been weak since she'd gotten to Hogwarts. She was too slow to learn the things everyone around her already knew, and though her name gave her weight, her lack of knowledge held her back. Halley had to rely on Parkinson and Greengrass for things she should already know. And now she was as good as Riddle's puppet.

Her teeth clenched.

No more. She wasn't going to let herself be that weak anymore. Slytherin was a place for the ambitious. For the cunning. And she had Slytherin blood in her veins. She must have in order to be a Parstlemouth.

So she would control her emotions, master that fucking Patronus charm, and find a way to keep the Weasleys in check. And considering Rowle had so generously offered, Halley was going to make use of him.

And maybe she could do it now.

It was well past two in the morning; the chance was slim. But she was impatient.

The map showed Rowle in the infirmary. She didn't care about duelling for the moment; the twins weren't back until the end of the month, and even then she had the map now. That would go a long way towards avoiding them until she was prepared enough to deal with them.

But he'd offered her help, and she would get it. One way or another.

Halley donned the cloak and swiftly moved through the castle, keeping out of the way of ghosts and too bright lights. When she found him, he was asleep in a seat, his head resting uncomfortably over the back of the chair. He was wearing his glasses again.

She took a moment to look around, making sure there wasn't anyone awake that would see her materialise from nothing, hid the cloak behind her and then poked him. "Rowle?"

He barely stirred, so she poked him harder. "Rowle!" This time he started awake. It was only quick reflexes that stopped him bumping his forehead against her nose.

"Fuck! What are you doing out past curfew?" he whispered harshly.

For a moment, Halley tensed at the force behind the words, but this was Hogwarts. He wouldn't do anything here - not with Madame Pomfrey so close to the two of them. "You said you would help me."

"I'm not teaching you to duel now, stupid girl."

Her eye twitched slightly. "I don't want your help duelling. I need help with Occlumency."

That seemed to wake him up. Rowle shifted in his seat, leaning forwards in his chair and taking his glasses off. He massaged his eyes for a moment, and when he looked back at her his grey eyes seemed clear and intense. "Who told you about Occlumency?"

"Professor Lupin."

"Why?"

"He thinks it'll help me control the emotions I feel around Dementors." She watched and waited to see if he believed the lie.

Rowle hummed. "It might do. Though the Patronus would be better."

"He's trying to teach me that as well."

He raised a brow, though whether it was in amusement or in disbelief she couldn't tell. Regardless, the next words were the ones she wanted to hear so it didn't matter what Rowle believed at all.

"Alright Potter. I'll help you out."

"With Occlumency?"

"With whatever you've got more of a disposition for," he said.

Halley nodded, ready to go. But he stopped her. "You didn't think I would do it without something in return, did you?"

She hadn't. She'd hoped that he wouldn't ask, but that wasn't how things worked for them. All she could do was hope the ask wasn't worth more than her request. "What do you want?"

"Information."

"About what?"

He tutted, shaking his head and the blonde hair fell out of its loose plait. The gesture was so graceful that it contrasted even more harshly than the patronising attitude would have. "So demanding, Potter. But go on then."

Rowle stood up and stretched, placing himself in all his too-tall glory, and in the process he dwarfed her. It shouldn't have mattered much. She was used to this; used to the difference that someone standing over her made. But it did matter.

"Tell me, are you truly a Parstlemouth?" Somehow, Rowle had managed to master asking the question without any weight to it. And it might have been that he didn't care at all, but the fact that he could do that was a testament to his control. And that's what she needed right now.

But then, Halley froze.

How had he known? She was so sure that she'd kept that to herself - and she'd heard about the stupid trick Malfoy had pulled on Weasley that had included the snake during the 'duelling club' Lockheart had started, but she hadn't been there. And she hadn't spoken to any snakes other than the Basilisk. But then it had been Parkinson and Greengrass with her when she'd heard the Basilisk through the walls that first time. And Dumbledore had told them all what had been in the Chamber.

Had they connected the dots? Had they spread that rumour around?

"That's all you want to know?" she asked. She couldn't let him know how much that had caught her off guard, not if she wanted to walk out of this with what she wanted. But Halley would have to talk to the others again at some point and find out what they'd told people.

"Of course not." He chuckled. "Teaching you is going to be a process. But it's a start."

She ignored the dig at her and nodded. "Yes."

"Prove it."

She narrowed her eyes. "I need a snake."

He conjured one without skipping a beat - and without uttering the spell out loud as well. It coiled out of his wand and onto the floor, a dull brown one with spotted scales. It hissed its displeasure.

"What is this?"

"Calm down," she hissed softly. The snake looked up and flicked its tongue in her direction, but something about it shifted, and it seemed calmer.

"Huh," Rowle said. "Make it do something."

"It's not a puppet," she said.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Ask it to wrap around your leg, stomping at your waist."

"Why?"

"Because then I'll know if you're actually speaking Parseltongue. And if you're not, I'd rather it bite you than me." He looked down at the snake and shifted, ever so slightly, on the balls of his feet.

Halley smiled. Whether he was afraid of snakes or not, no-one liked having one lunge at you. She didn't need to think too hard to remember the feel of the cold, textured Basilisk scales push against her.

"Come here." The snake was cautious, but it eventually slid over to her. "Climb around me. Only up to here." She pointed to her waist and the snake did as it was told.

Her muscles tightened as she felt the scales through the material, and the snake was gripping onto her tightly so that it could hold on. Any higher and the feeling of claustrophobia would have sunk in. But it stopped at her waist, and then it waited.

She didn't know what to make of it. The only times she'd ever talked to a snake consciously had been in moments of intense panic and fear. With barely any time to process what was happening, she'd spoken to the Basilisk. But she hadn't realised what that had meant. Not truly.

She spoke to snakes.

She could speak to them. Like Riddle could.

If only in that aspect, she and him were the same.

A feeling blossomed in her chest that was hard to pin down. Riddle was someone to fear; dangerous, quick to turn things to his favour, charming and - if he was at the Malfoy ball over the holidays - placing himself in a calculated position. He was everything she wanted when she'd asked the Hat to place her in Slytherin.

But he was also a murderer.

But...was that - no. It was. Regardless of how many times she'd pictured the Dursleys dying, and even if it would be easier to kill them, she didn't want to. She couldn't want to.

That image in the mirror - her Boggart - it wouldn't. She couldn't.

She felt a rough scratchy surface flick at her hand, and the snake nudged it. "What to do now?" it asked.

"Nothing."

It hissed but listened.

Halley hadn't even been paying Rowle any attention, but disbelief stared down at her when she finally looked up at him. She'd never seen Rowle look anything other than smug or confident, and so the fact that she'd managed to knock him off his axis - even the tiniest bit - made Halley stand just a little straighter.

She whispered to the snake to get off of her, and she watched with satisfaction when Rowle immediately banished it.

"You're a Parstlemouth."

"Yes."

"You. A Potter, with a mudblood for a mother, are a Parstlemouth."

"Yes."

He was back to disbelief now, and Halley wished, for the first time, that she could do Legilimency, because she desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. She'd known that Parstletongue was often hereditary. She'd done enough research to know that it wasn't a common trait anymore. She'd assumed it had come from James' side of the family.

But seeing how Rowle had all but stated the Potters wouldn't have been where it had come from, and considering how unlikely it would have been for Lily to pass it down to her - despite Halley's own belief that Muggleborns were probably from squib lines - then it meant that her Parseltongue was even more unnatural.

Where had it come from then?

Rowle shifted, drawing her attention back to him. He straightened up and that smug smile returned to his face as he looked down at her. "Alright Potter, help it is. But you're going to have to work to my schedule. That'll mean early hours and late nights."

"Fine."

"You know," he paused, "Malfoy wouldn't give you half as much trouble if you pulled a trick like that on him."

Malfoy? Halley hadn't even thought about him. He was too busy bragging about how he was getting one of the Gamekeeper's many beasts put down for endangerment, or something like that. Malfoy was a tiny fish in a stupidly small pond. She had bigger things to deal with.

Still, she nodded. "I'll keep it in mind."


Rowle wasn't joking. The next day he'd stopped her as she left the Great Hall and told her to meet him by a specific tapestry on the seventh floor. "Seeing as you're so capable of sneaking around, I'll see you there at midnight."

Halley couldn't even argue with him because he took an apple from his pocket and walked off with his goons, biting into it with an audible crunch as he went. She wouldn't have argued with him anyway; this was what she wanted, and a few more late nights or early mornings weren't going to do any more harm to her.

Parkinson and Greengrass were still hovering besides her, and she didn't want to explain what was going on. Though, she'd seen them exchange glances when Rowle had walked over, but they could keep their secrets so long as they kept out of hers.

The day passed by in a blur. Lessons, peers, ghosts, hallways. Time ran through them all so quickly that, before she knew it, Halley was on the seventh floor opposite a grossly disturbing tapestry of someone teaching trolls to dance the ballet. They were clumsy and ugly; stopping over each other and the floor, growling and grunting, all the while the man conducted them with his wand. Occasionally, he would zap at their eyes with a spell when their hulking figures got too close to him, and the troll would fall back in pain, clutching at their sockets.

What possible reason could the professors have for letting that stay up?

"Charming, isn't it?" The suddenness of his voice startled her. No-one had been in the corridor when she'd arrived. Halley had checked.

"Where did you come from?!"

"Not so fun when it's you, is it?" he asked.

Halley glared.

"Come on then." Rowle held open a door that definitely hadn't been there before.

She could see through it a little, and the warm glow of firelight flickered and danced from inside. And she couldn't wait there too long - he would just tell her to leave if she wasted his time.

It seemed like a large library, mixed with elements of their common room. The familiar green and black trimmings on the furtunture, and the serpentine adornments on the mantlepiece of the fireplace made the room somehow feel snug, while the towering bookshelves and the old study desks gave the place an academic feel. A blend of comfort and focused style.

Rowle had clearly made the space his own; his books and writing things were laid out over a large desk, with snacks and drinks accompanying them. His robes and tie were laying at the back of the armchair closest to the fire, and on the desk beside it were his glasses and a book.

It must have been where he went to study when he wasn't in the common room. But Halley was positive there hadn't been a door there where she'd arrived. And the room seemed too big for the space in the hallway. "What is this place?" she asked.

"The Come and Go Room. My brother told me about it, and now I've passed that knowledge onto you. Use it wisely, Potter." He grinned at her, tucking up his sleeves indicating he was ready to get down to business.

Halley quickly placed her cloak down - she'd only brought her regular one. She wasn't going to give up that secret so quickly - and followed him towards a circular rug in the middle of the room. It felt soft underneath her shoes.

"Alright Potter, show me your Patronus."

She frowned. "I didn't ask for help with that."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I want to see it."

"I don't -"

"Trust me. You'll be better suited to that than Occlumency. You haven't got the control for it yet."

Halley felt the frustration build. She didn't need this. She needed to have some kind of progress by the time she met Riddle otherwise he'd get mad. "I told you -"

He stared her down, catching her eyes with his, and talked very slowly. Insultingly slowly. "Cast the Patronus, Potter. I want to see what I'm working with."

She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw began to hurt, but she did it anyway. Arguing would just waste the time she had. Halley closed her eyes and brought forward the best memory she had. Hannah, giving her the first hug she'd ever received. Halley had cried when she'd broken something - a plate or glass, something inconsequential - and had thought that was it. That Hannah would never let her come over again. But Hannah had just taken Halley in her arms and enclosed her in warmth.

Halley remembered being terrified, but minutes passed, and Hannah hadn't done anything to her. Nothing. Just crouching there with Halley in her arms. And Halley had eventually put her own little arms around Hannah's shoulders, and clung to her. Hannah lifted her up and rocked her, shushing her and playing with her hair until Halley had fallen asleep.

She didn't have the words for it then. It had just felt like a stillness had taken over inside her. She still didn't. But she recalled the feeling. She closed her eyes.

"Expecto patronum."

Holding her breath, she opened her eyes. Nothing was there.

Halley threw her wand to the floor with a yell. The wood cluttered on the stone floor, and the sound was echoed by Rowle tutting.

"Whatever you're doing, you're doing it wrong."

"Obviously!" she said through gritted teeth.

"Throwing a tantrum isn't going to help, you know."

"Then you do it!" she yelled. She didn't even know why she was so mad, but Halley had to scream. "Go on! If you're so good at DADA, you cast a fucking patronus!"

He rolled his eyes. Rowle rolled his eyes! Halley was about to throw a fit, but then he took out his wand and said the spell. A warm, white glow fell on her, out of his wand shot a crow. It soared overhead, circling them twice before perching on Rowle's shoulder, nibbling at his ear.

"How did you do it?" she whispered. "Why does it work for you?" What's wrong with me?

"What did he tell you?" Rowle asked.

"What?"

"The DADA professor. What did he tell you that you needed?"

"A happy memory," she said.

The crow cawed and flapped its wings, as if showcasing Rowle's displeasure. "Typical. Casting a Patronus is as close as one can legally get to practising soul magic. The Patronus is a representation of who you are - you're very being. A soul isn't made of happiness, Potter. It's made of you! So what is it that makes you, you?"

She couldn't answer. He knew she couldn't. But she hated that he knew it. "What does that even mean?"

He cancelled the spell and the room went back to the warm glow from the fire. Rowle walked over to her wand and picked it up. She watched him, tense. The last person who'd touched it was Riddle, but he didn't do anything other than hand it back to her. And unlike Riddle, she didn't feel like he was showing her mercy by giving her back her wand.

Rowle sighed as she reached for her wand. "You were right when you said we should work on your Occlumency. You can't tackle the big things until you sort out your mind. And you've got absolutely nothing to shield with. So we're going to start with that."

The fucking prick! He'd been reading her thoughts - purposefully riling her up to see how well she could hold her shields in place.

Well - she'd show him! Halley took her wand from his outstretched hand and prepared herself for whatever was about to happen.


AN: Hope you guys enjoyed it. There's been a bit of a lull in engagement recently and while I'm pretty sure it's because of the holidays and the fact that everyone's busy, I am wondering if people are enjoying the fic. So, if there's something more you'd like to see, let me know. I have the next few chapters are written out but certain things I can add or sprinkle in if it meshes with the general timeline and chapters.

It's cool cause sometimes you guys say something that sparks an idea, or your sharp eyes inform me of things I need to keep track of - for which I'm very grateful. Anyways, enjoy your weekend and I'll see you in a couple of weeks :)