Yay! A new update for this one! I do hope that those who read it will enjoy! Please let me know if you do! :D

Just so that you know, in this fic, Meryn and Boros are of an age with Joffrey and Sansa.

"Hurry up now! We're going to be late!" Arya let out impatiently. Her brow furrowed and eyes wide, she was waiting by the bathroom door with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Sorry!" Sansa exclaimed. With shaking fingers, she applied some of mum's concealer over the dark circles she had under her eyes as fast as she could.

The night had been long and restless for Sansa. She had barely slept and had only been unconscious for a couple of hours at the most when her alarm-clock went off. Without even realising what she was doing, she had pressed on the snooze key many, many times until her sister finally shook her awake some ten minutes ago. Sansa usually rose much earlier than Arya and left a good twenty minutes before her. She liked to take her time in the morning and to arrive in advance at school, yet today would be a sad exception to the rule. She was so late, there was no time to even eat and fix her hair properly. She looked an utter mess, but there was no helping it! There was simply no time!

"Enough now! Let's go!" Arya insisted, pulling her by the arm.

Sansa didn't resist and they both climbed down the stairs and ran to the entranceway. Outside, the weather was a bit chilly and so Sansa put on her cute marine blue trench coat over her school uniform. Arya was clad in her usual leather jacket and combats boots, both of which contrasted oddly with the plaid pleaded skirt and simple white blouse every girl wore at the private high school they attended.

"So, you managed to block him again last night, huh?" Arya asked even as they both jogged through the street that led to their school

"I did," Sansa replied, already out of breath. "Don't know for how long I can keep this up - this shield is really draining me! I barely slept last night. I kept feeling this strange pull inside of me. It was stronger than on the previous night. He's not happy, I can tell!" With that, Sansa groaned as a pang went through her foot. Gods, those ballerina shoes she was wearing may be flats, they were not well-suited to running.

"You may be losing strength. You did get your new power through him, so perhaps you need to constantly get laid to keep it? Like he has magic, demon jizz or something?"

"Eww, Arya! You're gross!" Sansa let out, grimacing. "But, yeah, I did wonder about it too, just not in those words," she admitted grudgingly. "For the time being, I still have Skill though, it's just that I need a proper night of sleep! I'll try to keep the Hound away a little longer still. I'm not ready to tell the parents about him yet."

Arya laughed and, in her distraction, she almost tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, yet she thankfully managed to regain her footing and kept jogging. "You won't have to tell them," she said once she had recovered. "They'll know the second your demon comes to you."

At that instant, the school's bell was heard ringing from afar, informing them they only had ten minutes until the first class started.

"Oh, gods!" Sansa squeaked in panic.

"Hurry!" Arya shouted, breaking into a run.

Sansa tried to follow suit, yet she was much slower than her sister. Those thin ballerinas were really the worst! Still, how Arya could run so fast with half laced combat boots was a true mystery. A spell! Sansa realised as she caught a faint metallic whiff. If only she was not so drained from keeping that shield up, she might have done the same.

"Sorry, can't wait after you! If I have one more detention, dad has threatened to take away my phone for a whole week! This is not happening!" Arya cried out even as she sprinted faster and faster, until Sansa had lost sight of her.

Running all the way to the school grounds took forever to Sansa and she was completely exhausted by the time she finally walked though the threshold. All of her efforts proved worthless though, as the bell rang a second time just an instant after she had stepped inside. Oh, by the Seven! Sansa thought, her heart in her throat. She was late - for the first time ever in her life, she was late to school! She almost wanted to weep at the notion – this was not like her at all! - yet she managed to hold back her tears, somehow, and resumed running through the corridor.

While being late of a minute or fifteen wouldn't change a thing, Sansa's pride pushed her to keep hurrying towards her class without passing by her locker to drop her coat first. When she entered the classroom, out of breath and dishevelled, her cheeks reddened as all of the other students peered her way in curiosity.

"Sansa, here you are. You are late, young lady," Mrs. Mordane remarked, a frown creasing her brow.

"I know! I'm so sorry, Mrs. Mordane. I didn't hear my alarm-clock as it went off this morning," Sansa told her sheepishly.

The old woman did look sorry for her. "Go take your place, Sansa. I'm afraid I'll have no choice but to give your name to Principal Baelish for his after-school detention."

Gulping, Sansa nodded and sat down before her desk at the centre of the classroom. This was going to be a long day. It had barely started and she was already more tired than she usually was before going to bed and now, she would need to stay after school on top of that! And Principal Baelish… Sansa shuddered at the thought of having to spend time with the man. At least in detention, she wouldn't be alone with him. I'm being mean, Sansa scolded herself. Mr. Baelish was a childhood friend of her mother and he had never been nothing but kind to her. Yet that was exactly what was bothering her in fact. He always gave her far more attention and importance than she was comfortable with. There was just something… something off about him which Sansa couldn't put her finger on.

As Mrs. Mordane resumed her lecture about adverbs, Sansa heard a snigger coming from behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know who this was.

"Little miss perfect is late. Not so perfect after all," Joffrey whispered from his place behind her.

Laughter were heard after that, no doubt his cronies on each side of him.

While Sansa tried to ignore them, there was no stopping the way her throat contracted painfully, same as it always did when she was just about to cry. Hearing Joffrey mock her like that was so hurtful! They had been an item just over a week ago and she had believed him to be her prince charming, that he loved her... In hindsight, Sansa had to admit that even when they'd still been dating, he had not always been so nice with her, yet she had supposed it was normal that he teased her, something any regular boyfriend did to his girlfriend from time to time.

"Spent all night crying, have you? Boohoo! I'm not with Joffrey anymore," Boros murmured, taking a high-pitched voice that was meant to sound like hers.

"Stop it!" Sansa retorted. Without thinking, she jerked her head back to shoot them a reproachful look.

"Gosh, look at her! Not as pretty as she used to be. So glad I dumped her," Joffrey spat with a disgusted air on his face.

More sniggers were heard and Sansa's eyes were starting to burn with unshed tears. Embarrassed, she swiftly turned back her head before they could see her tear up.

"Joffrey, Borros, hush now, or I'll give your name to Mr. Baelish for his detention as well. You heard me?" Mrs. Mordane warned them sternly.

"Yes, Mrs. Mordane," they each replied in turn, as nonchalantly as they could get away with without putting themselves into more trouble.

Thankfully for Sansa, Joffrey and his pals left her alone for the remaining of the English class. Nevertheless, sitting so close to them with her back turned was incredibly nerve-racking. What if they threw something in her hair? She'd seen them do it to some other girls in the past, though at the time, she had kept her disapproval to herself. Displeasing her boyfriend had always been the last thing she wanted, and she sort of regretted her inaction now. Every now and then, she could hear them whisper and the sniggers that followed were not only those of Joffrey and his friends. No doubt they were making fun of her and the fact that they were involving other students made it all the worse. Would she soon become the school's new laughing stock thanks to Joffrey? There was no way she be truly attentive to what Mrs. Mordane said in these conditions. Today was an utter waste of time!

When the bell announcing the end of the first class finally rang, Sansa had already stored her notebook in her backpack and gathered her trench coat in her arms. She all but ran out of the classroom, fearing that she might be followed by Joffrey, Boros and Meryn, yet as she exited and she saw Margaery waiting in the hallway, she knew she was okay. Joffrey probably didn't want his new girlfriend to see just how much of a jerk he truly was and he had sort of behaved so far when she was by his side.

That didn't make the encounter any less awkward - for Sansa at least. As for Margaery, she didn't seem bothered by her presence in any way to be honest. From the instant she noticed her, she smiled kindly at her and Sansa did her best to do the same before scurrying away from her. The last thing she wanted was to struck up a conversation with her ex-friend. Not only did she feel betrayed and wounded by her callousness in seducing Joffrey while hey were still together, but on top of that, she didn't want her to find out about her newfound power. Having Skill herself, Margaery would sense the change in her if they were to find themselves in close distance. For the moment, Sansa preferred not to have to make up some story of how she had suddenly blossomed. As for Joffrey, he was so flat, he would never know. She didn't need to worry about him, for that at least.

Sansa's other morning class went by uneventfully, but she was so tired, she struggled to keep her eyes opened. It didn't help that, as Arya had taught her, she tapped a bit of power in her shield at the beginning of it. She had to do it every few hours, even during daytime, or else her shield wouldn't hold up. It would be more power-consuming to build a new one every night than to just maintain this one, nevertheless the process of sustaining it was tiring. Afterwards, she always felt just as dizzy and feeble as after having had a blood sample taken from her.

Sansa was distracted, her mind kept turning with thoughts of Joffrey and of how awful he was with her, of the Hound and of the way she had kept him away for the last couple of days, of the web of lies she had entangled herself in… Opening her palm, she gazed at the ugly scar she had given herself to call forth the Hound. Will he be mad at me when we next see each other? Sansa knew the answer; she had felt his rage in the dead of night for a brief instant yesterday and the notion was bloodcurdling. For all of that, she was just as anxious when she imagined her parents' reaction to learning about her Evocation. But the worse in it all was that, whatever she did, there would be no escaping either: she would need to face the music eventually where both options were concerned!

At lunchtime, Sansa ate her sandwich with not an ounce of appetite, which was surprising seeing that she had had no time for breakfast. Podrick and Jeyne commented on how tired she seemed and both blamed Joffrey and his bullying for her poor state. Sansa didn't contradict them; it was not as if Joffrey's actions were not preoccupying enough to cause her bouts of insomnia. Telling them the whole truth about her sleepless nights was totally out of the question of course. And anyway, even if she had, they'd never have believed her and would simply think she was losing her mind. Regular skilless mortals were totally unaware that magic even existed and the great witch families of the world had every intention of keeping it that way, forever if possible. Anything that had to do with magic couldn't be disclosed to people of normal blood - that was one of her people's laws.

Jeyne and Podrick did notice the cut in her palm, but Sansa proceeded to tell them the story of how she was emptying the dishwasher on Friday evening and accidently grabbed a kitchen knife by its blade. Both winced in pain at the thought of it and swore to inform their parents of the dangers they faced when doing the dishes. Sansa was the living proof it was probably best if the chore was left to others with more experience.

The remaining of the day went by very slowly and started with one more ordeal for Sansa. Indeed, to her distress, her math teacher announced seconds after the bell had rang that the class would begin with a test, a test she had completely forgotten about! It proved to be very arduous and she was extremely worried when she was forced to hand her copy to the teacher. Hopefully she would not fail!

Things didn't get any better after that. Her shield had to be looked after again and so Sansa reluctantly tapped what little energy she had into it. The process drained her so much that she straight out fell asleep on her desk a few minutes later. It was her math teacher who woke her up, calling her name from the front of the classroom, which was so incredibly humiliating! The gods were certainly to thank that Joffrey was not among her classmates, or else he would have rubbed it in her face till the end of times. Sansa made sure not to fall asleep for what was left of her class and she was happy when after the break, her physic teacher announced they would do a lab since having to interact and actually do something meant that her somnolence would be easier to fight. Her teammate was Podrick and she did feel guilty for how clumsy and without an ounce of initiative she was, but he did most of the work and did not complain. He was such a sweetheart.

When the last bell rang, Sansa apologised for the hundredth time to Pod for how unhelpful she had been. He understood, he assured her, and after having given him a grateful smile, she grabbed her backpack and headed to the detention room. The day's almost over, she told herself in near glee. Only another half-hour and she would head back home and take a most needed nap. Feeling already better just at the prospect, Sansa turned the last corner of the hallway that led to the detention room, yet her newborn good humour vanished in a heartbeat as she all of a sudden came face to face with Joffrey, Boros and Meryn. They had been waiting for her, she realised in dismay.

"Look whose arriving in advance to her detention: little miss perfect, as always," Meryn sneered, grabbing her by the arm.

Both Boros and Meryn were much sturdier than Joffrey and they always did his dirty work, for some reason. Sansa had never liked neither and she was starting to straight out despise them now that Joffrey had broken up with her and that they'd turned against her.

"Leave me alone!" Sansa cried out. Even as she spoke, she tried to pull her arm free, but Meryn's grip was too strong.

"She was not so perfect as a girlfriend though. So fucking prude," Joffrey commented, gazing at her with disdain.

"I bet she wants to wait until she marries to lose her virginity, or perhaps she wants to become a septa?" Meryn said.

Joffrey sniggered. "I could see that happening! She'll never get on her knees for any man, so she might as well do it for the gods."

All three boys laughed at that.

"Let me go!" Sansa pleaded, her eyes prickling.

Using all of her strength, she tried to free herself from Meryn's grasp, but her attempt proved vain. Worse, even as she did, Borros slid his hand behind her backpack, grabbed the back of her bra through her blouse and pulled at it hard until it snapped against her skin.

Sansa yelped, feeling her face grow red and burning in shame. Tears were gathering in her eyes now, but she had to fight the urge to weep she had. Breaking in tears before Joffrey and his cronies would please them far too much.

"What's happening here," came a familiar voice.

With that, everyone froze in place and turned to see their principal, Mr. Baelish, gazing at them through narrowed eyes.

"Boros, Joffrey, Meryn: in the detention room. I'll be keeping you as well for harassing Miss Stark," he informed them severely.

"But, Mr. Baelish, we were just talking to her! Tell him, Sansa! Nothing happened," Joffrey insisted, glaring at Sansa.

"I won't have you intimidate Miss Stark like that. You think you're fooling me? I saw what happened. If you don't get inside at once, I'll keep the three of you in detention tomorrow as well, understood? Inside now!" Mr. Baelish ordered, pointing at the detention room's door.

The three boys obeyed, though they were obviously pissed, and Sansa didn't miss the look of reproach Joffrey sent her before he entered, as if this was all her fault somehow!

"Sansa, sweetling, are you all right?" Mr. Baelish whispered once they were alone.

While she fought against it, Sansa couldn't hold back her tears anymore. Abashed, she hid her face in her palms, her body shaking with repressed sobs.

"My poor sweetling. Get in my office, I have some tissues," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. The principal's office was right next to the detention room and he guided her inside.

Sansa did as he bade, still she couldn't help but be a bit nervous. Being alone in closed quarters with Mr. Baelish always made her uncomfortable, yet today, a part of her was also relieved to get a chance to hide while her outburst passed.

Once they were inside, Mr. Baelish shut the door behind him and fetched a couple of tissues for her.

"Here, sweetling," he said softly. "You shouldn't cry for Joffrey; he's not worth it. You were always far too good for him."

"Thank you, Mr. Baelish," Sansa said, drying her face. She blew her nose as daintily as she could and threw the used tissues in the garbage can.

"Petyr," he told her. "When there's no other students, call me by my first name. We're almost family, aren't we?" With that, he smiled at her, a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Biting at her lip, Sansa nodded hesitantly. Mr. Baelish had indeed been her mother's neighbour as they both grew up and he had remained close to the Tullies, especially to her aunt Lysa. He was of a witch family too and the thought of it suddenly put Sansa on edge, for good reasons, she realised as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Sansa… What… there's something… something different about you. Have you…?"

Oh, gods, no, Sansa thought, unwittingly hiding her scarred hand against her chest. The last thing she wanted right now was to have to explain herself and lie to Mr. Baelish, yet there was no way out of this. For a man, he was especially sensitive to magic. Her newfound Skill was not something she could hide from him.

"Sansa… it has finally happened, haven't it? You've become a witch!" he breathed in amazement. His eyes boring into hers, he closed in the gap between them until he was way too near for Sansa's comfort.

"I have," Sansa replied, backing away from him as much as she could without being rude. "It… it happened this week-end."

"This is so wonderful, Sansa!" Mr. Baelish said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Glancing at it uneasily, Sansa forced herself to nod and smile. Keeping eye contact with him was hard. The way he looked at her, it was so strange, not like a teacher or principal ought to gaze at a student.

"If ever you need any help, just ask me. I don't cast spells myself of course, being only male, but I know the theory of magic better than anyone. I can sense a lot, more than most, but I was almost an adult before I developed to me full potential. In that, we're very alike, sweetling. We have much in common - I think you would profit a lot from my knowledge and help."

With that, Mr. Baelish caressed her cheek with his knuckles and Sansa flinched slightly, a shiver going down her spine. This is not appropriate, she thought, her pulse resounding in her ears. She often wished she could share that bad feeling she had about him with someone who could counsel her about it and tell her if she was right or wrong in her concern, yet as Mr. Baelish was a family friend and her school's principal, she wasn't sure to whom she could turn to. Besides, what if she was wrong? She couldn't risk ruining his reputation for what was probably nothing - that would be really horrible of her!

"Thank you so much. Yes, I'll be sure to ask if ever I need advices or anything," Sansa said out of politeness, averting her gaze. "I… maybe I should rejoin the others in the detention room now?"

"Oh, sweetling, you don't have to go. It's the first time you're late in four years and I can see that that new power of yours is wearing you out. Go rest."

While the offer was tempting, Sansa knew it would be wiser to refuse. "Oh, no, I'd rather stay. What would the other students think? I don't want them to believe I get special treatment."

"Hmm, smart girl. You're right of course," Mr. Baelish agreed. Then he contemplated her pensively for a moment and added: "If you need to talk, about Joffrey, your new Skill or anything else, my door is always open. You know that?"

"Of course. Thank you, Mr. Baelish," Sansa replied with a stiff smile.

"Petyr," he corrected, frowning.

"Petyr," Sansa repeated reluctantly. She couldn't wait to be out of here and figured it was best that she humoured him.

The smile he gave her was wider, but once again didn't seem sincere at all, still he opened the door for Sansa and she scurried out of his office at once.

As she entered the detention room, Sansa was very careful not to look at Joffrey or his pals for fear that they noticed her swollen, red eyes and made fun of her later on. She sat in the first row as far, as she could from them, and was relieved when they didn't follow her once detention was over.

When Sansa arrived back home a little after 4pm, she headed straight to her room with the intent of taking a nap. First though, she had to, once again, tap some strength into her shield. Sansa groaned; she had had enough of constantly weakening herself like that – it didn't feel natural to do so when she was already so worn out. Holding up a shield at all time was demanding work and did not allow time for her power to regenerate fully. She couldn't keep this up for very long, that was a given…

After having sacrificed what little drops of strength she had to spare, Sansa was so exhausted, she fell into deep, dreamless slumber from the moment her head touched her pillow. She probably would have slept through the evening and night, or so she believed as she bitterly sat up in her bed, if not for her mother waking her a couple of hours later.

"Darling, dinner is ready. You should eat something. It will give you strength just as much as sleep. I won't have you waste away as so many girls do as they start blossoming. Wielding all that new power takes calories, just as exercise does. Your body needs food."

Too fatigued to argue, Sansa nodded and groggily followed her downstairs. She ate her pork chop with rice and vegetables with a total lack of appetite, her eyes still only half open. Around her, her little brothers were restlessly chatting with Arya and her parents, but as for Sansa, she remained silent and barely listened to what they said. On a few occasions, her sister sent her a worried glance, one that said she was well aware of the struggle she was going through and not looking forward to the inevitable conclusion of it.

As for mum and dad, they kept gazing at her with a benevolent air upon their face, happy and proud, and Sansa felt like the most contemptible person ever for leading them on like that. She was the worst daughter ever.

When she was done eating, Sansa took a long and very warm shower and then, headed to her room. She tried to study, but it was a total waste of time. In the end, she stored her books back in her backpack, turned off the light and took place in bed. She still badly needed to rest, yet for all of that, sleep evaded her. She was too troubled, kept thinking of her day, of how horrible it had been. Joffrey mocking her, Mr. Baelish being… being weird. I hope that he won't insist that I spend more time with him, so that he teaches me things… Sansa shuddered at the thought of it. It was hard to refuse such an offer without coming off as rude. She wasn't sure if she could do it… She was nice to a fault, Arya often told her.

Sansa also agonised over her parents. They were so happy for her and bound for the hugest disappointment of their lives when they learned of the despicable origins of her power. For how long could she keep the truth from them? Not much, she mused, gazing out of her window. It was fully dark outside now, dark enough for him. Though it was very faint, she realised in sudden dread that she could sense him and smell the slightest hint of his psychic scent. Once more, Sansa fancied she could feel his anger. She knew the Hound would be mad at her for keeping him away and, being totally inexperienced with demons, she had no clue of what to expect his reaction would be when she finally allowed him to take form.

My shield is getting too flimsy, Sansa mused, shutting her eyes in despair. She knew she ought to reinforce it, yet she wasn't even sure she could do it safely anymore. She didn't have enough strength left, would risk using some of her vial energy if she so much as tapped a few drops of power into it.

It would be so easy to just let it go and perhaps it would be for the best indeed. It wasn't as if having to face the Hound eventually was avoidable in any way and Sansa's parents would need to learn the truth sooner or later. She could wait an additional day or two, but the end result would be the same, only with the Hound being madder and her growing exhausted to the point of risking her health.

Besides the truth was, a part of Sansa also craved the power she could gain from giving herself to the Hound. Feeling pure strength flow through her veins had been ecstatic. She wanted more of it, especially now that she was so weak. It would bring her back to life, would give her the courage she needed to face another horrific school day tomorrow.

As if the Hound could read her mind from wherever he was, warmth suddenly began spreading down Sansa's lower belly. It was very subtle, but she recognised the same spell he had repeatedly cast on her on the night she called him forth from the Seven Hells. Was he trying to tempt her? Shutting her eyes, Sansa moaned softly as she remembered the pleasure his touch had woken in her. Gods, but it had been so good…

If the Hound was able to reach her with a spell, that had to mean her shield had thinned dangerously, so much so that it might very well break at any moment if she's didn't do something about it quickly. She ought to infuse what little strength she still had left in it, she knew it, yet she had had enough of emptying her well for the benefit of something that would been vain in the end anyway. This had lasted long enough.

Screw it, Sansa thought, breathing out a deep, shaking sigh. I don't want to fight anymore.

With that she released the hold she still had on her shield and waited anxiously to see what would happen. She expected an explosion of fire, flames as high as the ceiling to lick her walls and turn her furniture to dust, yet her room remained as dark as tar.

"Little bird," a harsh whisper came from nowhere. "Little bird, you shouldn't have done that."

Then, in a split second, the Hound's alien psychic scent grew overwhelming, as thick as steam and taking up the whole space of her room. Sansa let out a cry as he appeared just in front of her, standing before her bed. In the darkness, all she could distinguish was the shape of him: his tall horns, his bat-like wings closed behind his back, his tremendously muscled frame…

"You've been very cruel with me, have kept me away. Left me to rot in the Void…" he rasped menacingly. His strange animalistic eyes were blazing and narrowed at her in resentment. They were all she could clearly see of him and she stared at them with wide, terrified eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Sansa murmured. Her whole body shivering in fear, she sat up in her bed and pulled her comforter higher over her. "It's just that… that…"

In that same instant, screams were heard coming from downstairs, followed by the sound of people running.

"What's that?" the Hound asked gruffly, glancing behind himself in annoyance.

The loud banging steps of people running up the stairs were resounding in the house. "Sansa! Sansa!" both of her parents were yelling, the fear in their voices breaking her heart.

"My parents," Sansa squeaked. "They don't know I have summoned you."

The door handle began turning and Sansa's body grew as tense as a guitar string. This was well and truly a catastrophe, a catastrophe that was entirely her fault! Yet before her parents could push the door open, the Hound lifted an arm in the air and opened his hand. A burst of energy flew from his palm and hit the door before swirling around them at the speed of light until it had surrounded them entirely. He has shielded the entire room, Sansa realised. Suddenly, absolute silence reigned and not a sound was heard apart from the hammering of her pulse in her ears.

"I won't have us interrupted," the Hound said, returning his blazing beast-like eyes on her. "We have some catching up to do."