I don't own Hellsing or Harry Potter, and I'm not making any money from this.

Constance got no sleep that morning. She tried, of course, but her mind just wouldn't have it. It didn't help that Hermione fell into the clutches of a nightmare not long after closing her eyes and pretty much ruined any chances of it happening. The moment she realized what was going on, Connie jerked the bed curtains fully closed and cast a silencing ward to block any sound from reaching their roommates' ears. It was a task she'd taken upon herself whenever she was in a position to notice the event. The girl's nightmares had been getting better lately from what she could tell, but end of year stress wasn't terribly helpful. Hermione was mortified when she woke up and regained her senses. She profusely apologized for being such a bother. Connie simply dried her tears with a corner of the bedsheet and wrapped her up in a hug until the fit passed. There was nothing to apologize for.

She had a word with Ginny in private after the feast that night. While she didn't know all the details, Constance imagined that the Weasleys would room the two girls of the house near each other. Hermione Granger had a great deal of pride and tended to avoid asking for help when it came to more personal things. She didn't want to come across as inserting herself into the situation too much, but she worried for her friend. Ginny had been through her own trauma and knew better than most what it could do to a person. She agreed to keep an ear out for Hermione at night and take steps to preserve her dignity if she had to.

She naturally worried about Harry as well, but he appeared to have a much easier time keeping himself distracted with Ron and the other guys. He showed no outward signs of discomfort until they were settling into a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Connie watched him carefully place Hedwig's cage on the overhead rack next to Archimedes. He had dark circles under his eyes.

"I guess you didn't sleep much either, huh?" She asked.

Harry plopped down in the seat across from Ron with a sigh. "Not really." He ruffled his hand through his hair, making it look wilder than usual. "I got a letter last night. From Aunt Petunia."

Everyone in the compartment went still at the news. Ron and Hermione exchanged a concerned look.

"What did it say?" Hermione prodded.

Harry gave her a non-committal shrug. "Uncle Vernon was the one who made most of the money. She couldn't keep up with all the bills on her own." He looked out the window at the scenery passing by. "She sold the house and they've moved into a flat closer to her new job."

"Blimey." Ron said, deflating. "Well, do you know where it is?"

"The flat?" He asked. At the boy's nod, he lifted his shoulders again. "She didn't give me the address, so I guess I'll find out when we get there. It's in Croydon, I think."

This made Constance perk up. That was much closer to where she lived than his house in Surrey had been.

"That's not far from me." She told him. "Maybe I could come visit you."

Harry gave her sheepish looking smile, as if he appreciated the thought but didn't expect it to actually happen. "Maybe."

She frowned at his response. Did he think she didn't mean it? She was about to ask him when the door to their compartment flew open, revealing a concerned looking Ginny Weasley. She held a ragged looking envelope in one hand while the other cradled something small and fluffy to her chest.

"Ginny?" Ron asked with a frown. He strained to see what she was holding. "What's that?"

The girl lowered her hand a bit and a tiny, feathered head popped out to look around at everything.

"Oh my goodness!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands up to her mouth. "That's the smallest owl I've ever seen! How on earth did it get on the train?"

"He was following us." Ginny replied. A high pitched hoot caught her attention and she cooed down at the bird, rubbing a finger over the top of his head to calm him. "My friends and I noticed him pecking at the windows and let him in. The poor thing wore himself out trying to keep up." She clucked her tongue down at him, then held out the letter to Harry. "It's for you."

The boy blinked in surprise and reached out to take it while the girls focused on the small owl. He didn't look hurt at all, but the demands of his mission had clearly exhausted him. Connie couldn't imagine how such a tiny thing had managed to keep up with the speed of the train. The young pygmy owl was covered in a mottled coat of brown and gray feathers, with some lighter stripes and spotting on the belly, and could sit easily in the palm of one hand. A few treats, a conjured dish of water, and a healthy dose of cuddles seemed to put him to rights.

"Guys!" Harry gibbered excitedly. "It's from Sirius! Look what he sent!"

He waved a slip of parchment in the air and Ron had to snatch it from him to see what it was. His eyes lit up when he identified it as a signed permission slip. "Nice! You've got permission to go to Hogsmeade now!"

"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful!" Hermione said with a wide smile.

Harry grinned himself and nudged at Ron's shoulder. "He sent something for you as well."

Ron gaped in confusion when Harry gave him the letter, but turned his attention downward to read.

"Even though he turned out to be Peter, I still regret being responsible for your friend Ron losing his pet." He read aloud. "I don't have regular access to owls for the post at the moment, but this little fellow was so eager for a job that I decided to give him a chance. He may be small, but he is a very enthusiastic creature and eager to please. Ron may keep him as repayment for the loss of Scabbers if he likes."

Ron looked up from the letter with wide eyes. "An owl?" He said in disbelief. "He… he gave me an owl?"

The little creature perked up as if he understood the conversation going on around him. With a high-pitched hoot, he launched himself into the air and flew in a circle around Ron's head before dropping down into his open hand. The ginger haired boy wrinkled his nose as he looked down at it.

"He's so…" He shifted uncomfortably. "Little."

Hermione frowned at him. "Honestly Ronald, it isn't like Sirius had his pick of whatever owl he wanted." She said. "You should be more appreciative. He didn't have to give you anything at all!"

"I appreciate it!" Ron insisted, offended that she would imply otherwise. "I'm just saying! The letter is bigger than he is!"

"He still managed to deliver it though." Harry pointed out.

Ron still looked unsure. "Well…" He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the bird, then turned slightly in his seat, waving a finger at the cat carrier sitting next to Hermione. "Wake up that monster of yours and let him have a look."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, indignant. "His name is Crookshanks, thank you very much, and you had best leave him alone."

"Come off it, 'Mione." The boy protested. "I just want him to check him out. He's right good at sniffing out things that don't belong, for a giant hairball…"

"Oh, like you cared about his opinion before?" She challenged snippily.

Their bickering woke up the sleeping feline and he pressed his already flattened face against the door of his carrier to see what his mistress was so cross about. The curious sounding meow drew Ron's attention downward, and he immediately seized the opportunity provided to him.

"See? He's already awake." Ron said as he opened the carrier door against Hermione's protestations. Before she could stop him, he extended the owl out for the cat's inspection. "Whatcha reckon, Crooks?"

Crookshanks took a single step out of the carrier and fixed his eyes on the tiny bird. Everyone held their breath as they watched to see what he would do. He studied the owl carefully for several long moments, then reached out a paw to gently bat at its head. It let out the tiniest, cutest sounding peep Constance had ever heard in her life. The cat took another slow step forward, then rubbed his head against the bird and Ron's hand. The soft purring sounds he emitted made it clear that Crookshanks didn't consider the new owl to be a threat, and Ron let out what sounded suspiciously like a sigh of relief.

"Oh, just look at his cute little face!" Ginny gushed. "I'll keep him if you won't." She cooed at the bird in his hand. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Pigwidgeon?"

"Pigwidgeon!?" Ron exclaimed, horrified.

"He needs a name, doesn't he?" His sister retorted. "It suits him."

"You are not naming my owl Pigwidgeon!"

The siblings argued back and forth about it, but the matter ultimately came down to the owl himself. He couldn't speak, obviously, but he had a rather large personality to make up for his small stature. Ron tried a wide assortment of names, ranging from the mundane to the ridiculous, but the boisterous little bird would only respond to the one Ginny had given him. The ginger haired boy eventually gave up trying to change it, but stubbornly declared that he'd call him 'Pig' for short. Constance didn't understand how that was a better option than 'Pigwidgeon', but the owl didn't appear bothered by it. The newly christened Pigwidgeon displayed his happiness with his new situation by hopping up and down in Ron's hand, then flying in wild circles around the compartment.

It was cute… at first. The animal's antics quickly grew annoying when he refused to calm down. Poor Ron was going to have his work cut out for him if this was how he normally acted. Hedwig and Archimedes both looked like they'd enjoy nothing more than to break out of their cages to shut the offending bird up. Eventually everything settled down, though it required Ron to snatch 'Pig' out of the air and hold him to keep him out of trouble. He mostly glared down at the bird like he was an imposition and fussed at him to be quiet. But every now and then, when he thought no one was looking, Ron would give him an affectionate pat on the head. It was as if he truly liked the owl, but didn't want to admit it to anyone.

After a while, Ginny grew bored and left to go back to her friends, while Ron and Harry set up a game of wizard's chess to pass the time. Pigwidgeon had finally tired himself out and curled up into a ball next to Ron's leg to sleep. He was infinitely more adorable when he was unconscious than awake. Once Crookshanks was coaxed back into his carrier, Hermione kept herself entertained with a book she pulled from her bag. Constance watched the progression of the boys' game for a while, but soon found herself growing restless. It would be several hours before they arrived in London and she didn't much like the idea of doing nothing at all with the last taste of freedom she'd have for a while. A light tap on the compartment door prodded her out of her musings and she glanced over to see George grinning back at her through the glass.

"Bleeding hell." Ron swore under his breath. He heard the tapping as well and didn't look at all pleased by his brother's appearance. "What does he want? He'll get Pig stirred up again, and we just got him to shut up!"

Connie rolled her eyes up to the ceiling with a sigh. "Calm down, Ron." She muttered, pushing herself up from her seat. "He's probably here to pull me off somewhere."

The boy wrinkled his nose and sniffed. "Well, go keep him occupied, would you? We don't need him back here causing trouble."

One of her brows went up. "Am I your brother's keeper now?"

"You're his girlfriend, aren't you?"

Constance opened her mouth, only to quickly close it again. There was no point in dignifying that with a response. She narrowed her eyes at the boy and turned to Harry.

"Will you please hand his arse to him and teach him a lesson?" She asked, referring to the game they were playing.

Harry's eyes flicked up from the board. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Ha!" Ron laughed. "Harry couldn't beat me at chess if he tried!"

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, indignant.

Connie shook her head at them and pulled open the door to exit the compartment. She stepped out into the hallway and slid it closed behind her, dampening the sound of the two boys' good-natured bickering.

"So you need to keep me occupied so I stay out of trouble, eh?" George asked with an amused glint in his eye.

She shot a sideways look at him. "Ron has a new pet and he's trying to avoid waking him up." At George's confused blink, she gave him a brief summary of their introduction to Pigwidgeon.

"Ah." He said in understanding. "An annoying ball of fluff that doesn't know when to shut up? He and Ron will be two peas in a pod then." He grinned at Connie's giggle of agreement and reached for her hand. "Come with me. I have something to show you."

Constance perked up in interest as he pulled her toward the end of the car. "What is it?"

"You'll see." George told her. "I need you to help me test something."

Test something? She thought. How intriguing. "It's not one of your candies, is it? I want to look at the formula first if it's something new."

He looked down at her with a faux scandalized expression. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing!" He gasped, gripping his chest dramatically. "You know Freddie's the one who likes to poison people, not me!"

"I didn't say anything about poison." She retorted, swatting at his arm. "What is it then?"

"You'll see in a minute, Miss Nosey." He chided. "We're almost there."

He gently pulled her down the hall and through various cars until they reached one toward the end of the Gryffindor section of the train. Once there he halted, had a brief look around to make sure no other students were out and about, then held his arms out as if putting an empty section of wall on display.

"Tada!" He exclaimed. "Whatcha think?"

Constance stared at the wall and slowly turned to regard him. "George, there's nothing here."

"Oh, really now?" He asked playfully, like he knew something she didn't. "You sure about that? Have a look around and see if you notice anything."

The girl's brows furrowed and she turned to look at the expanse of wall again. She didn't see anything particularly unusual, nor did she detect any overt sign of magic other than what was a part of the train itself. Of course, with lots of witches and wizards in the immediate vicinity, it was a bit difficult to parse out what magic should be there and what shouldn't. She half thought that George had made a mistake and led her to the wrong place when something odd caught her attention. Something about the space wasn't right. A closer inspection of the length of the entire car confirmed that there was… space was missing. The opposite side of the car had one more compartment than the side she was looking at. But strangely, the sight wasn't setting off any red flags of 'otherness' in her mind as it should have. If he hadn't told her to look for it, she never would have noticed.

"You've hidden a whole compartment?" She asked, her eyes going wide.

George puffed up proudly. "It's an idea me and Fred have had for a while, but we just figured out how to make it work." He told her. "Come on. Have a look inside."

He touched the blank expanse of wall, dragging his fingers against the surface as if he were looking for something. They stopped in an area roughly at the level a door handle would be and appeared to press an invisible button. Suddenly, the wall before them stretched and unfolded itself to reveal the compartment that had been hidden. There was a small metallic object affixed next to the door handle with a finger sized indentation in the middle, which seemed to be what he had pressed to make it appear. George slid the door open, stepped inside, then beckoned for her to join him.

"Pretty cool, huh?" He asked once she walked in and shut the door behind her. "It's the same concept as the magic that hides magical places from muggles, only those spells tend to be long-term and a pain in the rear to remove. We wanted to make something simpler. Easy to put up, easy to take down, and portable, so you can take it wherever you need it." He gestured wildly, and Connie could see him already putting together the sales pitch in his mind. "Just imagine: it's a perfect hiding place that you can carry in your pocket!"

She glanced around. Everything looked perfectly normal. "George, this is amazing." She breathed as she ran a hand over the wall to see if she could feel a difference from inside the room. Nothing. "How did you do this? I can't detect anything at all."

He looked rather proud of that. "It's doing its job then." He told her. "Like I said, me and Fred have had the idea for a while, but we never could get it to work right. Magical folk are harder to trick than muggles 'cause we know what to look for. But all those sorcery lessons with sensing magical signatures and what not got me thinking. I figured if we designed something that could mimic any signatures in the surrounding area, we might be able to make something truly undetectable. You know, hide in plain sight without actually repelling anyone so it draws less attention. We played around with it a bit, and here we are." He gestured to the space around them. "It needs improving, of course. It starts to fall apart with rooms much bigger than this, and making the one trigger we've got had me exhausted for days…"

Constance had heard enough. What he was talking about was as complex as it was impressive. Before he could say another word, she stood up on her toes and pressed a firm kiss to his mouth. George froze in surprise, clearly not expecting the interruption, but quickly recovered and eagerly kissed her back. When they parted, she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep him close and smiled.

"Have I ever told you how utterly brilliant you are, George Weasley?" She said.

His eyes lit up with the glint of mischief she had come to love so much. "You might have mentioned it a time or two." He replied. "But sometimes I get distracted, so you should remind me as often as possible."

One of her brows slowly rose and she played with the hair at the nape of his neck. It was getting long. "Distracted?" She teased.

George dipped his head to nuzzle at her neck, giving only a hum in response. It was pretty clear what he meant by being 'distracted'. Keeping his arms wrapped around her waist, he walked them both backward until they met the bench seats along the side of the compartment. He dropped down onto the seat and pulled her into his lap. The move was faster than she expected and it swept her off her feet, causing her to fall into him hard enough to knock him onto his back. Constance found herself laughing as she pitched directly into his chest. She planted a hand on either side of him to push herself up enough to look down at him.

"What, exactly, do you think you're doing?" She asked, putting on an air of offense.

George blinked up at her innocently. "Testing, of course." He told her. "I'm trying to run a business here. All products must be thoroughly tested to make sure they meet our standards."

"Ah ha." She sniffed playfully. "And this testing includes a snog fest?"

"Absolutely." He replied with a serious nod. "We have to make sure it does what it's supposed to do in all sorts of situations." His eyes dropped down to her blouse and he gave it a light tug. "Are you hot, by the way? You look hot. You should take this off so you don't get overheated."

Connie pushed herself fully upright, straddling his waist, and folded her arms over her chest. George lifted himself up on his elbows.

"What? Heatstroke is nothing to play around with!" He said, continuing to joke. "I'd feel awful if you fainted."

She gave him a look. "George."

Like a switch had been flipped, all pretense of humor fell away and his expression shifted to one that was both serious and sincere. "Connie, you know I'm just playing, right?" He asked gently. He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "We can stop if you want."

Constance felt her heart clench. That was the issue – she didn't want to stop. She wanted to stay in his arms and do anything and everything they wanted without having to worry about what people would say or what her responsibilities demanded of her. It was horribly unfair. She took in the sight of him so patiently waiting for her word. Her lovable scoundrel who was somehow also a perfect gentleman when it mattered most.

Her eyes flicked toward the window at the scenery rushing past them. She wasn't home yet. This time was still hers, and she would do with it what she wanted. Damn it.

She looked back down at George and took a deep breath. "Do you have a potion?"

George blinked. "Potion?" He asked, as if he didn't know what she was talking about. Half a second later, understanding dawned and the corner of his mouth twitched. "Why would I have something like that?" He teased. "Isn't that the girl's job?"

Constance fought the urge to roll her eyes and gave his shoulder a solid swat. "I know damn well you didn't go to all this trouble to get me alone without having one just in case. I don't carry things like that around with me." She told him. "Where is it?"

His smirk slowly widening, he pressed a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, then gently pushed her back and deposited her to the side so he could sit up and get to his feet. He withdrew a small vial from his trouser pocket and held it out to her. Connie took it from him and examined it, noting that the color and viscosity were correct before pulling the cork to check the scent.

George arched a brow at her actions. "Honestly woman, you think I'd give you something less than perfect?" He asked, sounding more amused than offended.

"I trust you." She said with a sniff. "I just prefer to check when it's something I haven't brewed myself." With that she tossed back the vial and swallowed down the contents. It was a bit too sweet for her tastes, but not terribly unpleasant. He returned the empty vial to his pocket when she gave it back to him, but she planted a hand in the middle of his chest to stop him when he reached for her. "Wait. Lock the door."

This time, it was George's turn to roll his eyes. "The trigger is automatic." He told her. "The spell reactivated when we closed it behind us. No one can get in."

Connie wasn't at all convinced. "What about Fred?"

"What about him?"

She squared her shoulders and leveled a serious look at him. "George Weasley, if your brother shows up and interrupts us, I swear to God that this will never happen again."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. "He wouldn't…"

"Do you want me to take my clothes off, or not?" She challenged.

That got his attention. "…Yes ma'am." He swung on his heel to do as she asked. "Locking the door."

"Thank you."

Mihnea glanced up from the pages of his book to look at the metal plate bolted to the wall ahead and just over his head. The reflective surface displayed the image of a young, dark haired boy darting into a compartment behind him. A first year, from the look of him. The Slytherin frowned and checked the time. That was the fourth one in the past fifteen minutes.

He had no good reason to be where he was, aside from a desire to hide away from the noise and distraction of the more populated cars. All he wanted to do during the train ride was read and be left alone. Being left alone was actually the easy part. He had little trouble scaring off anyone who dared to bother him. The noise level though - and actual presence of people – was a problem that even he couldn't fix.

One thing he'd always been particularly good at was finding and securing good hiding places. It was a talent developed out of necessity. Crowds, noise, and people in general irritated the hell out of him, so it was always nice to have a quiet place to escape to. On the Hogwarts Express, that place just happened to be in the front-most car of the Slytherin section of the train. Or, if it wasn't counted as part of the Slytherin section, it certainly connected to it. It was a former passenger car that had been converted for storage, leaving only two usable seating compartments near the entrance. Mihnea supposed they was there for the trolley witch's use, though he didn't think either of them were used often. Indeed, she was the only person he'd ever seen go in or out of this particular car. He usually placed himself at the very end of the car in a little alcove behind a low set of shelving. It was peaceful, hidden, and happened to have that wonderful piece of reflective metal on the wall. If he sat on the floor and positioned himself just so, it offered a perfect view of the entire car and the door behind him. And, of course, the level it was at ensured that anyone who came in would never know he was there until they were right on top of him.

He was more annoyed than anything else when the first students came in. It was a couple of fifth years – Lyra Gibbon, followed a few minutes later by her boyfriend, Michael Wallace. When they both disappeared into the compartment, he figured they were just a randy couple looking for a place to snog. As irritating as it was to have his hiding spot invaded, he supposed that as long as they were quiet and didn't do anything obnoxious, he could ignore them. Then, Luther Blackwood entered the car. The second year slipped into the same compartment Gibbon and Wallace had. Mihnea found it strange that the young couple within hadn't immediately thrown him out. When the little first year disappeared into the same compartment and didn't come back out, he realized something was going on. There was no good reason for those four to be meeting up in this particular car unless they were doing something they wanted to keep secret. He marked his place in his book and set it to the side. Letting himself slide down a teensy bit further to make absolutely sure he stayed out of sight, Mihnea fixed his gaze on the reflective plate on the wall and watched.

Eris and Enyo Meadowes, the strange twins who looked nothing alike, appeared next and stepped into the compartment. Heron Rosier stepped through the door next, about six minutes later. Four minutes later, Samuel Steward entered. Then Silas Marlowe. Then Cerys Llewellyn. Damn, how many of them were there? Even Pixie was starting to get agitated by the number the people who'd come in. When the door opened again to reveal the face of Verity Selwyn, Mihnea knew he had to take action. Something weird was happening inside that compartment, and he was determined to find out what it was. He searched his pockets for his set of extendable ears, tucked one securely into Pixie's harness, then silently cast a quick disillusionment spell over them both.

"Get into that compartment." He instructed. "Don't let anyone see you."

He wasn't able to track her progression toward the compartment by sight, but knew that she'd do as she was told. In order for her to remain undetected, she'd have to tuck herself away under a seat somewhere – which meant he probably wouldn't see anything useful through her eyes. Mihnea would have to rely on sound. After the list of people he'd already seen go in, he wasn't that surprised to see Cassius Ogden walk in next. He and Verity were good friends, so if she was involved in something, it was fair to assume he would be as well. When he joined the others inside the compartment and closed the door behind him, Mihnea drew his knees up to his chest, cast a silencing ward around himself, and activated his extendable ear. Now, all he had to do was wait.

It was eerily silent for several long moments before he heard Ogden mutter a spell. He was casting a silencing ward of his own. Clever. He thought. Once the spell was in place, the silence was interrupted by numerous softly spoken voices.

"What the devil is this about, Cassius?" Wallace demanded. "Meeting up like this is dangerous!"

"Weren't we supposed to do this before we left the castle?" Marlowe agreed.

"Calm down." Ogden told them. "I know it's not ideal, but there's nothing for it. Verity and I were too busy to arrange something before now. We're going to keep this brief, but there are some things we need to talk about before everyone goes home."

"Yeah, yeah." Rosier said in a bored sounding voice. "Keep an eye out for muggleborns at the Welcome Feast. We don't have to be reminded every year."

"Heron, if you can't contribute something useful to the conversation, then you're free to leave." Ogden snapped. "I'd be more than happy to obliviate you."

"You'd have to outdraw me first." Rosier countered.

"Outdraw everyone in the room, you mean." One of the Meadowes girls said. "You know the rules."

"Please sit down and shut up." The other spoke up. Mihnea could hear Rosier grumbling in the background. "Go on then, Cassius. He's just blowing hot air."

"Right." Ogden said. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted." He paused, as if to shoot a reproachful look at the offender. "We have some news. Professor Snape called a meeting of all the Slytherin Prefects to inform us of some changes going forward. He's tapped Bassarab to be his assistant."

Mihnea straightened at the mention of his name. The members of the group within the compartment let out a variety of gasps and exclamations at the information.

"Assistant?" Gibbon questioned. "Snape's never had one of those before, has he?"

"No, he hasn't, which is why it's so interesting." Ogden confirmed. "Snape is the sort to prefer working alone. Promoting a student into that kind of position means he has plans for him."

"Wait, why is this a surprise to anyone?" Marlowe asked. "Everyone knows Snape has been grooming him for years…"

"Well, yes, but we thought he was going to make him a Prefect." Verity answered. "This is a much bigger deal. Bassarab will outrank everyone except the teachers now."

"Whoa, really?!" Blackwood exclaimed. "Even the Head Boy and Girl?"

Someone must have confirmed with a nod, because Rosier barked out a laugh. "Well, damn, why didn't Snape do this before now?" He asked. "Weasley would have loved this. Can you imagine a stand-off between those two?"

"Wouldn't be much to see there, mate." Wallace said. "Bassarab would wipe the floor with his pompous ass."

"Exactly!" Rosier said, his voice colored with excitement. "Merlin, that would have been great to witness."

"Okay, that's nice and all, but what if Professor Snape is just doing this to keep an eye on him?" Gibbon asked. "Have you guys forgotten what happened? If Lupin bit him…"

"Best go ahead and stop thinking things like that right now." Ogden chided her. "His test results were negative."

Mihnea felt his shoulders tense. How the hell did he know about that?

"You're sure?" She pressed.

"The Ministry opened an investigation." Ogden replied. "The law requires testing when they know a werewolf was involved. They wouldn't have let him come back to school if he was infected. And Snape wouldn't randomly give someone that much authority just to keep an eye on them." There was a brief pause. "Do you guys remember when I told you that we would know the situation was serious because things would start happening? This is what I was talking about. Snape was in the thick of it during the last war. He knows things. When he makes a move like this, it means we need to pay attention. We already had a close call with that ruddy Chamber of Secrets business last year. How many of you want to go through that again?"

The others all muttered and whispered to themselves in the background as Verity cleared her throat to address them. "There's no need to make a decision right now." She said. "There's not much that can be done over the summer anyway. We'll reconvene when we get back to school to discuss it further. In the meantime, we continue on as we have been. We just wanted to give you guys advance warning that things will be different next year so you can be prepared."

"If there are any changes or updates that you need to know about, you'll hear about it from me or Verity." Ogden added. "Now mentors, remember that you need to notify your charges of any changes in your situation as soon as possible. Charges, keep an eye on your mail and respond accordingly to any instructions you're given. If anyone finds themselves in need of a proxy for mail, you can contact either of us, or…"

Verity coughed. "Actually, I won't be able to be a proxy for anyone until mid-August. I'll send a note out when it's safe."

"Big plans?" Rosier asked.

"My mother has invited my fiancé to stay with us for a while so we can… get to know each other." She replied.

Several female voices clucked and hummed in sympathy. Mihnea blinked dumbly at the wall. Excuse me? He wondered. She had a fiancé?

"Alright, no contacting Verity until she gives the all clear. Will anyone else be available?" Ogden waited for a moment. "Heron?"

"Eh… I don't think it'd be a good idea for me." Rosier told him. "My mum doesn't care, but my dad gets nosey when I have a lot of mail come in at once."

"Understood." Ogden replied, then moved on. "Eris? Enyo?"

"We may be able to cover the time Verity's out." One of them said. "It might be hard to respond later in the summer though."

"We've a Showing to prepare for." The other explained.

"That will have to do then." Ogden said. "Okay, I believe that was everything we needed to cover. Does anyone have anything else?"

"Actually, yeah, while I'm thinking about it." Wallace spoke up. "Tim doesn't live far from me, so we're going to meet up sometime during the break to go meet with my cousin's wife. She really helped me navigate things when I first started. Carys, Luther, and Sam are more than welcome to join us. If your parents agree, of course. I don't have a set time yet, but I can let you know if you're interested."

"I think that's a wonderful idea!" Verity said approvingly.

"Your cousin's wife?" Llewellyn asked – the first of the younger members of the group Mihnea had heard so far. "Is she nice?"

"She's very nice." Wallace confirmed. "Heloise is from an old pureblood family but she's been married to a muggle for nearly 20 years now, so she's really good at parsing out differences you don't normally think of. She was a life saver for me."

The three younger Slytherins quietly talked amongst themselves and from what Mihnea gathered, they all seemed interested in the offer. With that settled, Ogden wished everyone a good summer and declared the meeting over, reminding them to stagger their exits on the way out so they didn't draw unwanted attention. He then removed the silencing charm on the compartment and Mihnea heard the door click open. He hastily deactivated his extendable ear and shoved it back into his pocket. Tracking the progression of everyone's exit via the reflections on the wall, he poured over all he'd just heard, unsure of what to make of it.

That there was a secret group of Slytherins having clandestine meetings under everyone's noses was troublesome enough. Mihnea was honestly shocked that he'd never heard a whisper about them before. At least half of them he knew were related to some pretty unsavory people – some of whom were serving life sentences in Azkaban. That wasn't damning in and of itself, but it was worth noting. The rest of them he never had a reason to pay much attention to aside from learning their faces and names, so he couldn't be sure of their motivations. What bothered him the most was that they clearly had some outside connections if they knew about his Lycanthropy test. That, and the meeting where it was performed, was supposed to be confidential. He would very much like to know how Ogden got his hands on that information.

Soon, everyone had departed and only Ogden remained. Mihnea kept his eye on the older boy's reflection as he exited the compartment. He idled about for a few minutes, letting the person who left before him get further ahead, then finally strode out of the car and shut the door behind him. Mihnea breathed out a long sigh of relief and let himself relax.

The sound of a latch clicking made him start and his eyes flew upward to check the reflection again. The compartment door slowly and haltingly slid open – seemingly by itself. He couldn't see Pixie herself, but could make out the faint shadow of her on the floor. She must have been shut up in the room and was struggling to free herself. Before he had time to get up and offer assistance, the feline nimbly slipped through the narrow opening she made and ran back to him.

Mihnea removed the disillusionment charm he'd put on her and scooped her up into his arms like an infant.

"There's my good girl." He cooed at her. "When we get home, you can have as many treats as you like." He rubbed her belly. "You've earned it."

Pixie preened under his attention and flipped over in his arms. She stood on her back legs and braced her front paws against his shoulders to rub her face against his. It looked like she wasn't upset with him anymore. With an approving grin, He leaned back against the shelving unit and allowed her to curl up into a contented ball in his lap.

This new job was going to keep him on his toes. He hadn't been expecting to have to keep an eye out for a Slytherin secret society. He suspected they could get away with quite a bit with two Prefects as members. He didn't know enough about them to form an opinion yet, but they would be on his watch list. And he was very, very interested in figuring out what they were up to.

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