Chapter 2: All the World's a Stage

Fourth Year:

Clara Diggory stared dazedly out of the window in a small, but spacious compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Her grey eyes watched oak trees pass while she fought against the sleepy drooping of her eyelids; the scenery unchanging for the last hour as dreary skies and vibrant green filled her vision. Small, nimble fingers played with a loose thread on her primrose pinafore dress, and her foot bounced against the ground just as it had her very first train ride to school.

Hannah Abbott, her very best friend in the entire world (besides her brother, of course), shot her wary glances as Cho Chang giggled loudly with Cedric in the seats across from them. Clara distantly wondered if she too felt like a voyeur to Cho's pink cheeks and Cedric's unintentionally obtuse replies to the poor girl's attempts at flirting.

"No, you're definitely the best Quidditch player at Hogwarts, Cedric."

"I… I don't think so. The lads on Slytherin's team have got us beat every year."

"Cedric! Stop being so modest. You've got to know how amazing you are."

"I'm not being modest! I'm telling the truth, Hufflepuffs always have a tough time out there on the pitch."

"Clara, don't you think your brother is the best player?"

"…Clara?

"Clara!"

Blinking in an attempt to draw her focus away from the gloomy view outside her window, Clara shifted and re-crossed her legs as she glanced at her brother and his…non-girlfriend? Girlfriend? She wasn't sure. Cho looked at her expectantly, and Cedric merely gave her a knowing smirk as she smoothed out her dress. "I'm sorry… I was daydreaming. What were you saying?" she asked the other girl politely as Hannah bit back a laugh.

Cho tilted her head to the side in the way she always seemed to when she was with the Diggory siblings. It was a look that bordered on something between impatience and confusion, as if Clara was some sort of puzzle she couldn't quite figure out. With a light laugh, she playfully slapped Cedric's kneecap and leaned into him. "I asked if you thought your brother was the best Quidditch player at Hogwarts."

"Oh!" Clara said with a look of surprise. "Um, yes, I think you are, Ced."

Cedric let out a bark of a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he looked at his sister. "Cho, I hope you realize my sister knows about Quidditch just as much as I know about Muggle sports- close to nothing."

Hannah huffed in agreement and Clara stuck her tongue at her brother and her best friend. "That's not true," she lied. "I know there's hoops and Quaffles and Golden Snitches- that's three things, right there!"

"Oh really?" Cedric challenged playfully. "What position do I play?"

"Seeker," Clara answered confidently, leaning forward as she narrowed her eyes at him. "I may not pay much attention to Quidditch, but I do pay attention to you, you know."

"Well, you've come a long way. Maybe one day, you'll even play a real game instead of trying to discreetly fly away mid-scrum," Hannah told her playfully. Clara pouted and slid in her seat, embarrassment flooding her mind as she thought about the first (and only) time she tried to play a friendly game of Quidditch with some other Hufflepuff girls. She definitely didn't see the appeal of the sport her brother had practically risen to Hogwarts fame from; she preferred to focus on the feeling of butterflies in her stomach as she flew higher and higher, her feet swinging as she straddled her broom. An activity that was far more fun, if you asked her.

Clara let out a pathetic whine in protest, her hands flying to her face to shield her from the chuckles emitting around her. Hannah wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a kind squeeze, a silent reassurance that her comment was all in jest. Clara merely bumped her head against the blonde's shoulder, scrunching her nose at her in distrust. "It's okay," Hannah told her with a laugh. "You're good at so many other things! Cedric just got all the athletic genes in the Diggory family, that's all."

"That's for sure."

Cho and Cedric went back to their teasing, effectively shutting out the world around them as Clara retreated back into the recesses of her mind and stared out the window. There was an odd thrum under her skin, the feeling that something was somehow…off, different… this year more so than any other before it. She and Hannah had talked about fourth year for ages; the year they would finally stop being underclassmen and would start receiving some of the privileges the older students enjoyed. Clara wanted this year to be good, to be great, but she could feel a strange shift in the atmosphere on the train to school that didn't exist before.

Maybe the shift started when Cedric and her father came back from the Quidditch World Cup, their hands shaking and eyes wide as they told her and her mother about the Death Eaters' invasion of the campsite. Having a parent who worked for the Ministry was sometimes frightening in and of itself, but knowing that her own brother was confronted with the chaos and fear of an actual… attack… made Clara's stomach twist and her face pale with terror she had never felt before. She couldn't comprehend that there were forces in this world who would want to hurt innocent people; happy families attending an entertaining a sporting event who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was far too grateful that her father was well-trained for these situations and was able to get himself and Cedric back to the portkey quickly, but she couldn't help but wonder…

Clara felt a warm hand move onto hers, and with a glance to her left, she saw Hannah giving her another concerned look. "Are you still thinking about it?" the blonde asked her quietly, trying to keep her voice low as Cedric sat next to them in close proximity. When the World Cup attack happened, Hannah had owled her urgently in total panic, thinking she had gone with her father and brother. She had promised to come straight to Ottery St. Catchpole from Godric's Hollow if she didn't reply quickly enough; her handwriting was uncharacteristically sloppy from distress.

Inwardly, Clara thought about what would have happened if she had gone with them. She probably would have slowed them down, if she was being honest, and all three of them would have been trampled by the terrified crowd. This situation actually made her grateful that she wasn't a Quidditch fan.

"I'm just thinking in general," she replied to Hannah, sending her a small smile as she glanced into a pair of worried blue eyes. "I… I feel like fourth year is going to be different from the last three, don't you?"

Hannah scoffed. "Yeah, very different," she said sardonically. "I'm taking arithmancy, so I'll be far more morose than I was a few months ago." Clara laughed brightly, sending her a playfully pouty lower lip as she jostled her arm. "Poor little Hannah," she giggled. "I'll bring you biscuits and tea from the Great Hall when you're trapped by a fortress of library books."

"Oh, you're too kind."

"As I always say, I do the best, for the best."

Hannah laughed back, but after a moment, her smile sobered as she searched Clara's face. After being friends for the last four years, sleeping in the same dormitory and spending nearly moment with each other, both of them knew the other better than they knew themselves. "You know, you can talk to me about anything," she assured seriously. "I don't want you to do that thing you always do."

"What thing?" Clara asked her curiously. Hannah's face softened, and she patted Clara's hand. "That thing where you pretend you're not upset because you don't want to upset anyone else," she answered.

"I promise I'm not upset," Clara said honestly. "I'm just… contemplative, that's all."

"Well… I'm here if you want to get anything off your chest. And…for what it's worth, I'm really happy we're rooming together, again," Hannah said with slightly rosy cheeks, the sweet admission making her face flush. With a warm smile and another tight side hug, Clara tried to convey as much gratitude and love for her best friend into their embrace as she could.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of the Honeyduke's Express trolley on the other end of the traincar, and both girls glanced at each other in glee. Cho seemed to sit up a little straighter as well, and as Clara and Hannah both got up from their seats, the brunette shot her brother's…friend… a questioning glance. "Cho, do you want to come with us to get some sweets? Ced, do you want anything?"

Cho seemed delighted at the invitation, her smile genuine as she popped up from her shared seat with Cedric as she nodded her head. "Yes!" she replied. "I've been craving pumpkin pasties all summer."

"Can you get me one as well, Cho?" Cedric asked her kindly. With a shy smile, he nodded, and Clara grimaced in slight disgust as Cho's eyes glazed over with affection for the boy. It wasn't the first time she had seen a girl with that expression look at Cedric. Over the past few years, she definitely noticed the straying eyes among the female student body at Hogwarts as they followed after her big brother; lovestruck by his gentle giant demeanor and his dimpled smiles. All the girls loved him, and the boys couldn't find it in themselves to hate him. He was far too nice, too mild-mannered and polite, to be on the other end of anything other than stereotypical male jealousy. And it helped that he was quite good at Quidditch.

And Cedric, being Cedric, was almost always glaringly oblivious to the long-winded sighs and glassy-eyed expressions as he threw himself into Quidditch and his grades and his prefect position. Cho was a nice enough girl, popular in the same way her brother was if a little quiet. It was nothing personal, but Clara simply could not understand how the Cedric Diggory, handsome Seeker-extraordinaire with a kind smile and light eyes, was the same person as Ced, her brother who used to insist on wearing all of his clothes inside out as a small child. It was a little difficult to accept the fact that Cedric was growing up and maturing when she still saw him as the rosy-cheeked fourteen-year-old who held her hand on her first trip on the Hogwarts Express.

All three girls walked towards the Honeydukes trolley, Sickles and Knuts jingling in their palms as they ruminated over which sweet they should buy. Clara herself was internally debating over whether to buy a chocolate cauldron or some pink coconut ice, but she stepped over to the kind old woman pushing the heavy cart with a wide smile. "Can I get…hmm, maybe not…um…perhaps I'll get…"

She heard Hannah sigh loudly behind her, the sound of a person who was far too used to her best friend's inability to make a decision when it came to such small matters like which candy to choose. Shooting the blonde a pouty glare, she turned back to the woman and straightened her shoulders. "Can I please have pink coconut ice? Thank you!"

After being handed the candy, Clara glanced up and noticed Harry Potter staring off in her direction, not at her but at someone else. "Harry!" she exclaimed happily, squeezing by the trolley to give her friend a hug. "How are you? Have you had a very good summer at the Burrow? Cedric had such a good time with you at the World Cup…well, before…anyway! How are you?"

Harry returned the hug if a little awkwardly the way he always did whenever she showed him any amount of physical affection. It had taken Clara most of her first year to overcome the shock and nervousness of being around such a well-known celebrity, but her friendship with Hermione helped her realize the shaggy-haired boy was just like anyone else, just as normal and just as flawed. Now when she looked at the Golden Trio, she merely saw them as a scrawny boy with crooked glasses, a red-head with a goofy grin, and a near-genius girl with a head of hair that had a personality all of its own, and perhaps that's why the trio liked her. In a school full of wizards of witches of varying intentions, Clara's were quite clear. The glory, the heroics… she could respect their chivalry and ambition, but she wanted nothing to do with it.

In many ways, Clara Diggory was the exact same girl she was three years ago- the girl with homesick, red-rimmed eyes who caught runaway pet frogs for blushing boys with a big smile. The more things changed, the more she seemed to stay the same.

"Hullo, Clara, I've been well. How are you? How are you doing, how's your brother?" Harry replied. Clara waved her hand flippantly and quickly rambled about her lackluster holiday, having done nothing more than help her mother in her greenhouse while Cedric practiced Quidditch every single day. Glancing over, she saw Hermione and Ron talking animatedly in the train compartment Harry was peering out of, and she lit up with delight.

Her happiness quickly dimmed as Harry's cheeks turned bright red, his eyes flickering from the floor to something near her. Clara looked next to her and noticed immediately that he was staring at Cho as she ordered a pumpkin pasty for herself and Cedric, and her eyes narrowed slightly. Following his gaze, she saw Cho and Harry share blushing grins before the other girl spun on her heel, pumpkin pasties in hand. With a slight nod, Cho made her way back to her seat next to Cedric, and Clara blinked in confusion.

Clara was a lot of things, but blind wasn't one of them.

"Hannah," Clara said quietly, turning to face the blonde girl next to her. "I'm going to say a quick hello to Hermione, I'll be back over in just a minute."

"Alright, I can take your chocolate cauldron and put it on your seat if you want, so it doesn't melt in your hands. Also…if you want to mention to her that I'm in arithmancy this term and I'll need all the help I can get, I wouldn't mind that at all," Hannah replied suggestively, a silent plea in her soft blue eyes. Clara smiled at her and nodded with playful exasperation, handing over her sweet as Hannah let out a relieved exhale. "I'll ask her, don't you worry. 'Mione's always happy to share her genius with us commoners."

Harry turned away from the trolley and took a seat, noticeably empty handed as Ron chewed loudly on some Drooble's. Clara bounced into the doorway as the cart moved further down the aisle, her cheeks slightly red as she rocked on her heels. "'Mio-ne," she sing-songed as the bushy-haired girl looked up from the newspaper in her hands. Hermione's face immediately softened and her eyes lit up as Clara walked between the seats to wrap her friend in an embrace.

"Clara!" she said delightedly, her hand coming up to touch the dark-haired girl's newly cut locks. "You've cut your hair!"

With slightly pinkened cheeks, she waved a nonchalant hand at the other girl. "You're the only one who noticed," Clara told her with a laugh. "It was getting too unmanageable. But it's still quite long, I think. Mum says it suits me much better, she took me to the salon across Honeyduke's, wasn't that kind of her?"

Straight, deep brown hair that nearly verged on black was now cut right below her bust, a major change after growing it out nearly to her waist for the past few years. A weight, both metaphorical and physical, had been lifted from her when she saw her dark locks fall to the floor around her. Clara had been desperately afraid that the new layers framing around her shoulders would make her face look too wide, a small insecurity leftover from years of prepubescent chubby cheeks. But the minute she saw her reflection, she realized she looked much more like a young woman instead of a child, and her worries disappeared.

"You…you look g-great," Ron piped up from the seat next to Hermione, his neck flushed a patchy red color while his friend next to him gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. With a slack-jawed expression of disbelief, he glanced over to Hermione's sharp glare. "What? It was just a compliment, Merlin's beard, Hermione!"

"Oh, thank you Ron, that's very nice of you to say," Clara said encouragingly, giving him a weak smile as she watched the red-headed boy's eyes roam over to her chest. She quickly folded her arms and cleared her throat, jerking him from his stare.

Both girls chatted about their respective summer's away from Hogwarts as she ignored Ron's extremely obvious wandering gaze, and Clara's shoulders tensed in discomfort. If Cedric was completely oblivious to the girls around him, Ron's own obtuse nature was the opposite. Her brother never paid any attention to the longing looks of anyone around him, but Ron was the kind of boy who left those longing looks. She wondered if he even realized that she could feel the heat of his stare as she giggled across from Hermione, confiding in her that even though the Quidditch World Cup had happened a few days ago, she was still unsure of which country's teams had even played.

"Sometimes I'm so confused as to how you and Cedric are from the same set of parents," Hermione laughed. "Your brother's one of the best players Hufflepuff has ever seen, meanwhile you're out in the stands accidentally rooting for the wrong team."

"Who says I'm rooting for the wrong team?" Clara said wryly. "Maybe I enjoy the underdog. And I suppose I just want everyone to have a good time, it's good to spread all that good cheer around. The fun of the sport, and all that."

"Bloody hell, that's the most Hufflepuff thing I've ever heard," Ron said with a slightly disgusted tone. Clara sent him a cheeky smile and shrugged. "What can I say? I have a reputation to uphold."

"Congratulations, Henry! Congrats, Alathea!" Clara said loudly, her smile big and encouraging as she gave some final welcomes to the new class of Hufflepuffs with her housemates. Giving warm shoulder pats and arm squeezes to the newest baby badgers as they took seats around the long, wooden table, their faces ranging from excitement to downright disappointment. It was a sight she had grown used to after being in the most mocked house at Hogwarts, and she merely shrugged it off. Hufflepuff was a bit of an… acquired taste. Some might not like it at first, but after a little bit of time and effort, Clara had seen countless upset first-years pull a complete one-eighty as they fell in love with the jovial spirit of their house.

Sitting between Hannah and Ernie Macmillan, they ate their celebratory Hat Sorting dinner with nervous eleven-year-olds squeezed between most of the upperclassmen. "Remember those days?" Ernie said with a playful shoulder bump, wiping his mouth with a napkin he carelessly threw on his empty plate. Clara rolled her eyes and gave him a wicked smile, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice as she rose from her seat. "Do I remember nearly wetting my robes when I sat up there with that hat on my head? It's a memory I'm not too soon to forget."

How could she forget how she cried in her bed the entire first night at Hogwarts from homesickness? How maybe, like her brother, she too lit a Lumos charm under her blanket as the dark corners of the dormitory sent a chill down her spine. Not that she'd admit that to anyone who didn't already know.

Ernie scrunched his nose at her crass words and let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blonde on the other side of Clara. "Bloody hell, you have an awful way with words."

With a huff, she scowled at the sandy-haired boy and slapped him harshly on the arm and followed after Hannah as they made their way to the Hufflepuff dormitories. "What a foul thing to say!"

"What? You don't!"

She narrowed her eyes at him and made a point to turn her back to him as she fell into step with her best friend, her forehead crinkled in distaste. "Rude git," she grumbled under her breath, her gaze flickering over to her friend. "Anyway, I spoke to 'Mione about arithmancy."

Hannah looked at her with hopeful eyes. "And?"

"And… she said she'd be more than happy to help you. But we both agree, you're just as smart as she is, and you will definitely get an O."

"Oh, please."

"What? You are, Hanns, I wouldn't lie to you. And… I know for a fact Neville Longbottom would agree."

Hannah's face bloomed bright red, and she ducked her head between her shoulders as she looked away. "Blasted legilimens," she said to her, her words wavering as she swallowed thickly. "I'd ask how you know that, but I'm afraid I already might have an idea."

"I'm not a real legilimens yet," Clara said sadly. "It's still very hard for me to do. Professor Snape said I might not ever become good at it last term, even though I'm a natural-born."

Legilimency had become the bane of Clara's existence, especially since her second year, when she started to wonder if the natural intuition she had with the emotions of the people around her was something more than some soft-hearted Hufflepuff characteristic. When she had gone to her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to ask him about it, with unnervingly narrowed eyes on his otherwise blank expression, Snape had told her she had a very, very weak born aptitude for the skill most people spent most of their lives trying to master. Clara herself couldn't read minds exactly, it was more of an…awareness, of sorts, as she picked up on the feelings of specific individuals if they were loud enough. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that of all talents, she received a nonverbal one she didn't even particularly know how to use. She never had any malicious intent, but she often found herself picking up on things like jealousy and arousal among her classmates without even trying to, much to everyone's annoyance.

"Don't listen to him. You're only a fourth-year, I guarantee you'll be a seasoned professional by the time we take our N.E.W.T.S. Maybe you can even become an Auror or something, it'd be a very useful gift to have," Hannah replied kindly. Clara shook her head profusely, her nose scrunching at the thought of working a desk job at the Ministry. "I don't think I'd like that very much. Can you imagine me, interrogating some…criminal…or something? I think I'd probably burst into tears or something just as pathetic."

"Yeah, you're right," Hannah laughed, much to Clara's joy. "Or you'd let them walk right out the door with a thousand galleons in their pockets and a smile."

"There's good in everyone, you know I firmly believe that-"

"Yes, yes, I've heard it all before…"

"-And besides. Professor Sprout thinks I have a real talent for herbology, or I can work with magical creatures like my dad. I might be better at that."

Both girls chatted as they walked along the dark hallway, and Clara slipped her robe off as she sighed in exhaustion, laying it over her arm. Distantly, she made out the distinct green ties of a couple of Slytherin fourth- years talking quietly, their figures only cast by the candlelight. Hannah sucked in an anxious breath, her eyes flickering to the ground as they tried to quickly make their way around the group without calling attention to themselves.

"Walk faster," Hannah whispered. "They can smell fear."

Clara wished Cedric wasn't still at dinner with some of his Quidditch friends, or she had asked Ernie to walk them to the girl's dormitories. She didn't know any Slytherin's personally, and for all she knew, they could be very nice people…maybe.

But she had seen far too many Hufflepuffs and Gryffindor's alike get jeered at and teased by the green-clad students, and even though she had never been subjected to their cruel words and even crueler actions (to her face, at least), she wasn't willing to tempt fate.

Unfortunately, luck was not on her side.

"Oi, Diggory, 'sthat you?!" yelled a loud, gruff voice. Hannah's eyes flew open comically, her hand clutching at Clara's to pull her along faster. She didn't have to have the world's weakest case of natural-born legilimency to feel the fear rolling off of her friend as they practically flew down the dark hallway, their black flats padding against the floor in a hurry.

"Diggory! I was talking to you!"

With a choked swallow, Clara stopped in her place and smoothed out the front of her robes and a fragile smile rose to her face. "What are you doing?!" Hannah bit out under her breath, her hand wrenching her arm in the other direction. "It's fine," Clara replied weakly. Despite Hannah's sound of protest, Clara turned around and faced the Slytherin boys.

Clara never went out of her way to send insults or think poorly of some of her peers, but she could confidently say Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were some of the most vile creatures she had ever met. While she luckily only saw them in a few of her classes over the years, she had heard their nasty jokes and insults on many a poor, blameless victim whose very existence was enough of an irritant to rile up both buffoons.

"Vincent," she said politely. "Did you enjoy your break?"

Crabbe smirked meanly, his nose wrinkling as his face contorted into something venomous. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he towered over the much smaller girl, who made sure to keep a healthy distance as the blonde next to her backed away silently. "Hm," he said strangely.

Standing there like a fool, Clara wondered why he had called to her in the first place if all he was going to do was stare at her like she was one of the portraits on the wall. Her eyes roamed over to Draco Malfoy, the white-blond boy next to him, who glanced at her before quickly looking away with bored eyes. "…Vincent? Did you need something?" she asked him kindly. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as the strange silence continued.

"Guess holiday's been good to you, hasn't it?" he said with a laugh, Goyle stepping up next to him and giving her an appraising look. She could feel both of their eyes glance at her up and down, and goosebumps formed all over her arms as she gave them a tight smile. "Have a good night Vincent, hope you have a good term," she said quickly, trying to diffuse the awkwardness and leave. Crabbe pouted mockingly, his arms crossing over his chest. "C'mon, don't be like that, we're just havin' some fun. Aren't we, Goyle?"

"Yeah, we're just havin' a laugh."

"W-What's so funny? I… I want to know the joke," Clara said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Crabbe's eyes widened with delight, and he glanced over at Goyle who's sneer lifted into a cruel smile. "Would you look at that? Badger's got claws," Crabbe laughed as Goyle curled his fingers and swiped at her. Clara's eyes narrowed, and from the corner of her eye, she noticed Draco's eyes flicker over to hers with an indiscernible expression.

"Sorry there, Diggory," Crabbe said with an exaggerated sad voice. "We just saw you takin' off your robes, and we were hoping you'd continue."

"Yeah, we was just appreciatin' the view, is all."

"Don't need to be such a prude about it."

Clara blanched, her face paling at the egregious comments as she took a step backwards, and Draco let out an annoyed sigh as he stepped forward from where he was reclining against the wall. "Merlin," he muttered out angrily. "We've got better things to do than waste our time with some bloody Hufflepuffs." Stalking away with a stiff set to his shoulders, Draco's eyes rolled in irritation, and with one last sneer, Crabbe and Goyle took off after him.

Clara felt another strong pulling at her arm and looked over to see a panicked Hannah grasping at her sleeve and practically dragging her off to the dormitories. "Why did you do that?! I told you, they can smell fear!"

"I didn't… I didn't know what they were going to say, Hannah. I thought it'd be worse if we ran."

"They looked like they were going to eat you, Clara! Don't you have any sense of self-preservation? What if…what if…we need to tell Cedric."

Clara's eyes widened and she shook her head. "We are not telling Cedric, Hannah! Nothing even happened. Much worse has been said to our housemates, you know that." Hannah looked at her incredulously, her cheeks flushing with heat as her hands flew up in the air with exasperation. "That's not exactly encouraging, now is it? You know, these things rarely happen just once! They're going to do it again, especially because you gave them the reaction they clearly wanted!"

Taking a deep breath, Clara put her hands on the other girl's shoulders and looked at her seriously. "Hannah," she told her calmly. "You know if they said anything worse, I can cast one of the nastiest stinging hexes of anyone in our house. Trust me, I'll tell him if anything else happens, but I can take care of myself. I don't want to burden Ced with even more responsibilities."

"My gods, you're certifiably suicidal," Hannah left in disbelief, her hand flying up to her forehead and slapping it aggressively. "Well, I guess this is goodbye, isn't it?! When Crabbe and Goyle decide to roast you over an open fire for a quick snack, don't say I didn't warn you!"

"That was… a very specific image, Hannah. Do you spend a lot of time thinking about the ways in which Slytherin fourth-year boys would kill me?"

"Well…! I don't know what those creepy gits do in their free time, besides suck out the souls of children and…and, oh I don't know, murder pet kneazles, or something!"

Clara smiled at her friend's theatrics, shooting her a quick grin. "I suppose it's a good thing I'm not a child, and I don't have a pet kneazle."

Hannah glowered at her, and as they approached the outside of the door to the dormitory, stuck her finger in Clara's face. "This is not funny, Clara Diggory! I am not laughing!"

After changing into their night clothes and spending an additional thirty minutes trying to calm a nearly- hysterical Hannah Abbott, Clara lay in her bed and stared up at the ceiling with her hands folded over her stomach. She knew she should probably try and sleep since classes began the next day, but her mind wouldn't quiet as she thought of her interaction with Crabbe and Goyle.

But more importantly, a part of her thoughts kept roaming back over to the silvery-blonde boy next to them, the notoriously vicious Draco Malfoy. How unlike the ghouls he kept around for some ungodly reason, he didn't jeer at her like she had seen him do to a number of other wayward students who mistakenly crossed his path. Draco seemed annoyed, like somehow Crabbe and Goyle's comments were a waste of his time, and she couldn't help but wonder what made this situation different. Was it because she wasn't Harry or Hermione or even Ron, or was it the comments themselves? Or was she simply so irrelevant to him, that he didn't even want to bother with her?

Needless to say, Clara slept restlessly that night.

A/N: Please leave a review!