September 12th, 1991

"He's brilliant," I was still giddy after this afternoon's potion class where we had just finished our first real potion: the boil cure potion. It wasn't necessarily a hard one, it was a fast brew and all the ingredients were in our kits, but it was a potion that worked. Poor Neville Longbottom in Gryffindor had managed to get boils all over him when he got it wrong and that boy Seamus Finnegan set his cauldron on fire – but I had managed it all on my own, even when Daphne had told me the wrong instructions. I was proud...especially when Harry had barely scraped through the class.

"Brilliant?" Daphne gasped, making a face to show how she disagreed. "Audrey, Professor Snape has tried to humiliate you three times now!"

"So?" Alright, it may have hurt a little more than I wanted to admit that he was so mean to me – but he was more rude to Harry and I liked that he expected more of us. Or at least he expected more of me...he was the only person who expected me to live up to the Potter name and didn't make fun of me when I didn't...then again, maybe that's because I hadn't done anything wrong yet. "He's been easier on me since he learned how I managed to make my potion. I can't wait to do our freestyle exam potion! I'm going to do something really hard to impress him – I'm going to love Potions, I can tell."

"Well then you can help me study for it," Daphne sighed, swinging her book bag around to her other shoulder. "Old Snape may refuse to take points from Slytherin but he still wouldn't feel bad about failing me. He's a git like that."

"Why do you hate him so much?" I asked, making my own face. "You made fun of him at the feast, too. He's a good teacher – we made a concoction on our first day and every day since. That's nothing to sneeze at."

"Snape is weird, Audrey – even for the Wizarding World," I didn't like the way she said that and I hugged my textbook more tightly to chest. "And he's not even well thought of, either...my Mummy said-"

"You're always going on about what your Mummy says," I frowned, wrinkling my nose and walking a bit faster. "Your Mummy seems like a rude, prissy Gossiper to me."

"Don't say that about my Mummy!" Daphne stopped, looking as if I'd hit her.

"Then don't judge people," I said right back to her. "Especially not teachers; it's a hard job, you know."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you fancy him."

I stopped walking, looking at her with wide eyes, my Potion's book falling to my side. "I do not!"

She just shrugged innocently, as if she hadn't said anything wrong and as if I hadn't been insulted by the words she 'had not' said. "Just sounds it, I guess."

I glared. "Just because you can't make a potion-"

"I can too!"

"-doesn't mean that you can just say things like that," I told her, looking at her as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We're supposed to be friends."

Daphne huffed, adjusting her rucksack again and sticking her nose in the air – I knew from experience that this meant she was about to insult me in some way. "Well my friends are excited to go to flying lessons this afternoon – are you?"

She got me and she knew it. No, I wasn't excited to try flying at all. Water wasn't my friend and heights? Well, that seemed nearly as bad. Then you add that we were learning to fly right beside the Black Lake? It sounded like a catastrophe waiting to happen. A great headache pulsed behind my temples – a headache was always pulsing behind my temples – just at the thought of everything that could go wrong.

"I'm going," I told her bitterly.

"Because you were saying you'd find a way out of it-" she was coaxing me, I could tell.

"I said I'm going," I snapped back.

"Good," she smiled, but it didn't look sincere. "Let's catch some lunch before, shall we?"

"Do we have to sit with Pansy?" I asked, my face squishing up. Daphne gave me a look as if to tell me I was stupid for even questioning it.

"Pansy is my friend, Audrey – we've been friends for as long as I can remember! If you don't want to sit with us..."

I sighed. I hated it when she goaded me like this, trying to show me who was the boss – someday I'd have to make her realize that she wasn't the boss of me. I'd lived all my life having the Dursleys be the boss of me...so to have my friend holding it over my head as if she were my newest keeper...no, I didn't like that at all.

We walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall and I pushed my nose up, like she always did, when she sat down beside Pansy. I moved all the way around the table and sat on the opposite side a few seats down, just so I didn't need to be near that stupid little dog-girl. Daphne looked a bit put out, but I was just happy that I could avoid any words with Pansy today. I hated the girl – everything about her. Her face was just begging to be slapped...maybe that was even the reason that she looked the way she did; maybe someone else thought her face was as tempting to hit as I did, only they'd had the guts to do it.

I ended up sitting next to that quiet boy, the smart one from my year. He seemed nice enough; he wasn't arrogant like Malfoy or rude like Parkinson and he kept to himself even more than I did. He'd only actually spoken to me twice – never anything important, but most importantly never anything about Harry.

He glanced up at me as I sat and I tried hard to smile reassuringly at him.

"You're Theodore Nott, right?"

"Right," he turned back to his food for a moment before he seemed to think it was a better idea to try and make some sort of small talk with me. "You're Audrey Potter?"

"Right," I nodded. He nodded to himself in the same way, his eyes glancing to me a few times and focusing back on his food – I smiled at his curiosity. "If you have something to ask, just ask."

His eyes flickered to my neck before his face went slightly pink and he looked away from me again, back to his food. He shook his head.

"I don't remember it," I told him, guessing his question. "And it doesn't bother me, even if it's ugly. Harry and I aren't special either, we don't have any cool magic or anything, even if everyone thinks we do."

"That's not what I was going to ask," he mumbled quietly, scooping up some Yorkshire pudding on his fork and putting it straight into his mouth to try to quiet himself. I was glad that I was at least creating a flowing conversation.

"Then what did you want to ask?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. I gave him a look, which made his eyes widen as he tried to defend himself. "Nothing, really! I hate nosing into people's lives and it's not my business anyway-"

"What is it?" I laughed, watching him stumble over his words.

"It's..." he looked around, particularly to Draco Malfoy who had just sat down beside Pansy and Daphne. When Malfoy didn't glare at him he leaned forward, keeping his voice quiet. "It's just...were you really raised by muggles?"

"Oh, is that all?" I asked, shrugging to myself. "Yeah, I didn't know about the Wizarding World until my birthday – that's the last day of July – but I think I'm starting to understand the basics of it. Being around Purebloods all day helps too; they like to rub it in my face...but what they don't really know is that they're just teaching me faster."

"That's a good way to look at it," he thought aloud. "They aren't very nice to you, are they?"

I shrugged. "So, Theo, what's it-"

"My name's Theodore," he said instantly. "My father doesn't like it when I'm called Theo."

"What is it with you Purebloods and always depending on your parents?" I asked, shaking my head and frowning. "It's all 'Mummy says this' and 'Daddy thinks that' and-"

"My mother's dead," he said lowly, looking at me in a way I knew that he didn't want to elaborate on it. I took a moment, not because I didn't have anything to say, but to let him know that I didn't mean to insult him with anything else I was about to say.

"So's mine," I told him simply. He looked at me for a moment, as if I were silly to even mention it – because who didn't know that the Potter twins had no parents? He moved back to his food, accepting what I said. I liked that I was having a conversation with someone who wasn't as mean to me as Daphne could be, so I kept talking to try to keep the line of communication open. "So besides what your dad thinks, why don't you like being called Theo, Theodore?"

"It's casual, I guess," he shrugged, looking up at me with a frown. "I guess I don't actually mind it; it's just that my father always told people to call me Theodore."

"Well, your father doesn't have to know, does he?" I smiled. "Theo sounds friendlier, like a nickname that a friend would use."

Theodore looked past me for a second, as if looking to the friends he was talking about. My eyes followed him and landed on Draco Malfoy; again bragging all about how great he was going to be this afternoon when we finally got to practice on brooms. Apparently he had his own at home that he rode all the time, apparently he was already good enough for the Quidditch team and it was an atrocity that First Years weren't allowed to join...at least, that's what he'd been saying for the past three days.

I looked back at Theodore and he frowned at me. "You want to be friends with me?"

"Why not?" I smiled. "You seem nicer than Malfoy or Parkinson – and they don't seem to like it when other people are friends with me. So if you want to..."

"People don't normally ask to be friends, it usually just happens," he informed me.

"Well I ask. It's more polite," I told him. "But if we're friends, I get to call you Theo."

He snorted lightly into his goblet of pumpkin juice. "Why would you want to?"

"Theodore is too long," I told him honestly. "And like I said: it sounds friendlier."

"Well, what would I call you?" He asked. I smiled brightly, realizing that he wasn't saying he didn't want to be my friend – in fact, he sounded like he might actually want to be.

"My brother calls me Drea," I told him. "But I don't really like it."

He smiled and I could tell he was going to repeat my own line of questioning. "Why don't you like being called Drea? It sounds friendlier."

"Because it's the end of Andrea, not Audrey. It's not even related to my name," I explained to him. He thought about it for a moment.

"Fine, I'll still call you Audrey...and you can call me Theo."

I smiled, shoving my hand towards him. "It's nice to meet you, Theo."

He looked down at my hand as if he were confused and I pulled it back nervously.

"Er – oh, do wizards not shake hands?"

"Wizards do," he looked at me for a moment, as if he was trying to stop himself from laughing. Still, he reached out and shook my hand anyway. "I'm just not used to eleven year olds doing it. My Dad does this."

"I tend to surprise people," I told him.

"Theodore," Pansy Parkinson called from her few seats down the table, standing up as if he wouldn't have been able to see her anyway. "You don't need to sit with her, you can come sit with us!"

My face must have dropped noticeably when Theo pulled his hand away from mine. He looked straight at the group of our classmates, watching them as if he was trying to calculate an equation in his head.

"I think I'll stay with Drea, thanks," he said simply. He turned to me with a small grin. "I know you don't like it, but I had a point to prove. Besides, it was the perfect time to be friendly."

"That's okay, Theo," I told him with a smile, the relief washing over me like a nice, warm shower. "Like you said, it was all to be friendly. And if it was to prove a point against Pansy you could have called me a Muggle or 'The Other Potter' for all I care."

He smiled at me before looking up to catch that our classmates were beginning to move out towards the grounds so we could begin our flying lessons. He jerked his head to the side, inviting me to go with him and even though I hadn't eaten I was too excited that I now had a friend who wasn't about to ditch me for Pansy Parkinson to give it a second thought.

The Slytherins were the first one out on the grounds and I had made sure to place myself near the corner, farther from the water and farthest from where people were more likely to try and watch me. Theo, my new friend, laughed at me.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"I've never flown before, not even on a plane," he looked at me confusedly and I sighed. "A plane is how Muggles fly. Give me a break, I just found out about the Wizarding World, remember?"

"Your dad was one of Gryffindor's best Chasers," he told me. "My Dad was a Beater."

"That doesn't mean anything to me," I told him with wide eyes, looking down at my broom nervously.

"It means he was a really good flier," he laughed. "The apple won't fall far from the tree."

"I'm a totally different kind of apple," I mumbled, not really caring if he heard me. The other students ended up joining us on the field – the Gryffindors were a little behind the rest of the Slytherins and it was noticeable that more of them were nervous than the others in my own House around me. Maybe the Slytherins really did have a better grasp on Wizarding life...or maybe we just hid our nerves better than others because my dorm mate, Lillian Moon, looked almost ready to pee herself.

"Hey," Daphne said carefully, taking a broom across from me, her eyes skipping from myself to Theo and back again. "Nice to see you, Theodore."

"Hello, Daphne," he greeted formally. "Excited to fly?"

"Not really," she admitted, looking down at her broom. "Mummy doesn't think it's ladylike."

"Can that be my excuse?" I asked nervously. Daphne gave me a look as if I were stupid – almost as if I didn't remember that I didn't have a mother – but she didn't answer me. Before I could really have the time to be insulted, our flying teacher ended up walking between the two rows of brooms we were all sat around...she was purely Witchy: short, gray hair and odd yellow eyes...yellow eyes that no normal human could have.

"Well," she asked, her voice was sharp. "What are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

She didn't waste any time, it seemed. Most of us were already by a broom, but apparently she wanted us to be standing directly beside it so that we could mount it if we wanted to. I didn't want to. I looked down at my broom nervously – it didn't seem special, it didn't really seem dangerous either...but after seeing all the toxic potion ingredients that looked like water, I wasn't willing to trust it.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," the teacher, Madam Hooch, shouted to us all, "and say 'up'."

"UP!" everyone shouted. Not a lot of the brooms moved, I could tell that much out of my peripheral, but I was upset to see that my broom didn't even budge like Theodore's had.

"For someone not very excited, you seem pretty disappointed," Theo said quietly, I sent him a glare before saying 'up' again. When it didn't fly up into my hand this time I put my foot on the sticks at the end and pressed my toe against it, pushing the handle up off the ground slightly and grabbing it. I didn't need another incident like what had happened in Charms – it was taking me longer to get used to magic than I thought...I didn't want to admit that I couldn't get flying either.

"You cheated," Daphne accused while Madam Hooch began to show us all how to mount our brooms without sliding off the end of it.

"Prove it," I whispered back, tempted to stick my tongue out at her and focusing on figure out how to mount a broom properly in my school uniform skirt. Daphne's Mummy may have been right...it wasn't really that ladylike or simple after all.

"No, no, no," Madam Hooch went up to Draco Malfoy and adjusted his grip. "You're doing it all wrong."

Across from him, my brother nearly choked in satisfaction. I copied Theo, who seemed to know what he was doing, and was nearly overjoyed when Madam Hooch passed me and made a sound of disapproval, but didn't bother to adjust me.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch explained to us. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two-"

Was it just me, or did that did not seem like enough instruction to do this safely at all?I could feel my hands shaking and a migraine threatening to push against my panicked thoughts, but there was no stopping the surprise when someone rose off the ground before the whistle had even touched our instructor's lips...and he kept rising, and rising...

"Come back, boy!" she shouted. Neville Longbottom was too far away to actually manage it though – he was rising like a kite lost on the wind and his face was the colour of a thunderhead. He was rising as if he wanted to be one, too – fifteen, twenty, thirty feet in the air...

And just as suddenly, Neville Longbottom was on the ground. He was face down, bent in ways that couldn't have been comfortable...or by choice. His broom had disappeared somewhere into the Forbidden Forest – apparently certain doom was better than having the boy fly it.

"Broken wrist," Madam Hooch muttered as soon as she bent over him. "Oh dear – come on, boy – it's all right, up you get-"

She turned towards the rest of the class, Neville curled into her as embarrassed as he was hurt. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

It was nearly sad, watching the boy stumble after the teacher – he was clearly very embarrassed; I could tell by his red ears. They were hardly out of earshot when Malfoy and a few of the other Slytherins burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" More Slytherins joined in. Daphne looked torn between following with the laughter or not but I was glad to see Theo, my new friend, was one of the ones who didn't care to.

"Shut up, Malfoy," I muttered. The blonde's eyes tried to slap my face with his glare.

"Oh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson, my self-proclaimed arch-nemesis, tittered. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Potter...I thought you had a fancy for professors."

"I do not!"

"Oh, don't bother," Pansy laughed. "Everyone sees the way you look at Snape! You do fancy him, don't you?"

"He's a teacher!" I looked around, horrified to see some people whispering; even Ron and Harry seemed uncomfortable with the idea of it and were sending each other looks of worry. That didn't make sense – Harry was my brother, my twin, he had to know me better than that!

"He's old!" Daphne tried to help, but it wasn't really enthusiastic.

"Look!" Malfoy moved forward, cutting off my protests by distracting everyone enough while he pulled something out of the grass. It was something round and clear; he held it up to the sun and then to his eye to look through it. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said, taking a step forward with his hand clenched against his broom. Of course, he was quick to stand up for Neville Longbottom, but where was he twenty seconds ago when people were whispering and trying to spread rumours about me?

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about...up a tree?" Malfoy smirked, raising his eyebrows tauntingly.

"Don't muck about, Malfoy," I rolled my eyes. "Just give it to him."

"Such a rule follower, Potter," Malfoy said, looking from Harry to me. "I thought you were better than that – but maybe you just don't want to upset old Snape, then?"

"This has nothing to do with Professor Snape-"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry growled. "And give me the Remembrall!"

But Harry wasn't fast enough, Malfoy had already mounted his broom and taken off; he wasn't lying because he'd clearly flown before. He didn't swerve out of control or keep going higher like Neville had; instead he hovered near the top branches of the nearest tree and stayed in the air, mocking my brother from afar.

"Come and get it, Potter!" And of course, my brother was quick to oblige.

"No!" Another Gryffindor, a girl, said. Her name was Hermione – she always had her hand up in every class I shared with her. I'd seen my brother talking to her a few times, but I didn't know they were friends. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all in trouble."

Maybe they weren't friends because my brother ignored her, kicking off of the ground and taking a moment to steady his hovering.

"Harry!" I yelled. "Stop making everything your fight!"

"He's going to get us all in trouble," Hermione Granger muttered again.

"I'm more afraid he'll break his neck," I snapped. "But your worry is nice."

Harry had already soared all the way up to where Malfoy hovered waiting for him – I was surprised that it looked like he was doing it effortlessly. Why was he famous and good at magic too? I hadn't been able to do any spells yet, not safely at least. I was not at all interested in flying and even though I was good with potions, Harry had completed his too. It was embarrassing that while I was terrified to even try to get on my broom, there was my brother: good at it all.

"Give it here, or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" Malfoy yelled back. I could hardly see them from here; I didn't have good eyesight ever since June when Dudley had hit me in the face and broke my glasses. They weren't as strong as Harry's, but it made it so I couldn't sit at the back of our classrooms – or, apparently, see to the tops of trees where my brother was having a medieval-style flight battle with one of the first people who'd tried to befriend me.

Suddenly, the boys were both moving. They were dodging and flying around each other and I could hear them talking, but I couldn't actually hear what they were saying. Then, Malfoy reared back and threw the glass ball with all the force he had.

Harry flew forward, I couldn't believe how fast he was moving – my brother was going to die right in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could have done to stop him...there was also nothing I could have done to close my eyes, they were peeled open watching the train wreck – er, broom wreck – happen. I couldn't believe I was about to watch my brother die for some stupid...whatever it was. A ball. A ball from some kid that was so bad at magic he could have been crippled!

Suddenly, a foot from when my brother's head would have been smashed into the grass, my brother reached out his hand and caught the little ball before it shattered against the dry dirt. I ran toward him, ready to smash his stupid head against the ground myself but I was stopped when someone a lot taller ran past me.

"HARRY POTTER!" It was Professor McGonagall, our Transfiguration teacher. Harry immediately got off his broom and waited for the end of his Hogwarts existence. "How dare you – might have broken your neck-"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor-"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil," McGonagall snapped. It's true, he shouldn't have been defended because it was his fault. He was the one who had let Malfoy rile him up and get him in trouble, he was the one who broke the rules and decided to be a show-off.

"But Malfoy-"

"That's enough, Mr Weasley-"

"Audrey," Theo whispered to me while we backed away to try and hide in the crowd. "Aren't you going to say something?"

"He was stupid," I rationalized. "I'd rather he get detention than get killed by trying that again."

But I never really get my way, as I found out after dinner.

"So you're telling me that because you flew when we were told not to fly and you nearly died doing it you're now on the Quidditch team?"

"Youngest player in a century," Harry explained as we walked away from the Great Hall after dinner. He didn't want me to tell anyone, which I had agreed to, but I was still amazed that he had gotten out of it at all. This was one of our first conversations since we had really started school and I was upset that all we were talking about were the rewards of his stupidity.

"You could have died you know," I berated him. "Just because you're famous now doesn't mean you get to be stupid – how am I going to tell you you're stupid if you're dead?"

"He didn't die – he was really good," Ron smiled. "That's why he's Seeker now!"

"But what if he hadn't have been good?" I said back, throwing my hands up in frustration. "It was the chance you took that worries me! If you keep doing things like this Harry, you're going to die."

"What, you wouldn't have flown to try and save me?" He joked. I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm not saying that," I muttered, even though it was quite clear I never would have been able to get on my broom and have made a difference. "I'm saying I shouldn't have to."

"Are you saying goodbye to your brother, Potter?" Malfoy's voice broke up our conversation and we turned around to see that he, Crabbe and Goyle were all smirking and walking up to us. "Did you enjoy your last meal? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"He's not going anywhere," I told him. "But you are: leave before I make you."

"What are you going to do, cure my boils?" Malfoy frowned. "This is between your brother and me – if he's brave enough, at least."

I opened my mouth in insult – he had just dismissed me! Sure, I had done that to him earlier on in the year, but we had gotten past that hadn't we? It's not like Malfoy and I got along but I thought there was a little bit of leeway when it came to my brother. I let him make fun of my brother every now and then and he cut me some slack and pretended I didn't exist; it was a quiet agreement that had never been spoken but assumed.

"Yeah, you're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," Harry muttered back.

"I'd take you anytime on my own," Malfoy said back just as rudely. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only – no contact..."

"Harry, no," I said immediately. "Don't fall for this again."

"I'm not falling for anything-"

"What's the matter?" Malfoy asked with that annoying smirk of his. "Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," Ron spoke up. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked over to Crabbe and Goyle for a second; sizing them up. After a moment of that he looked back to me and smiled darkly at my brother.

"Your sister."

"No way," I said immediately. "I'm not fighting my brother!"

"Exactly and she has to agree," Ron agreed.

"Don't tell me you don't want a fight," Malfoy smirked, "because you'd be lying."

"I'd sabotage you and you know it," I said back to him. "Pick somebody else."

"Fine," he muttered, looking frustrated. "Crabbe then. Midnight all right? We'll meet in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

"Fine," Ron said toughly, giving Harry a look as if to make sure that he actually agreed with these terms...it seemed strange to ask him now considering Ron had just set everything up for him without asking beforehand.

Malfoy gave me a smirk before he turned to leave. "Next time, then?"

"Who are you kidding? I'm never fighting with you, Malfoy," I scoffed. "We're friends with each other's enemies."

"But still friends with each other," he laughed, looking once again at my brother before walking off with Crabbe and Goyle.

"I'm not friends with him," I said immediately, looking to Harry with a frown.

"I know."

"And you, what's a wizard's duel?" I demanded, glaring at Ron. "And why did you say my brother would do it?"

"And what do you mean, you're my second? Why would Drea have been Malfoy's second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," Ron said simply. The look on Harry and my faces seemed to tell him how he needed to explain more. "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry asked, sounding nervous.

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.

I rolled my eyes. "That defeats the purpose of the 'no contact'."

"It does," another voice explained. Hermione Granger had somehow appeared behind us and Ron groaned, already annoyed that she was near us. It was quite clear that I hadn't known she and Harry were friends earlier that day because she and Harry weren't friends.

"What do you want?"

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying-"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"Maybe you shouldn't have been saying it in the first place," I muttered to him in the same way. "Or yelling it like an ape pounding its chest."

"You mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you." Hermione berated us. I had never really had a mother figure, but I bet that she would have sounded just like that if I would have. Then again, she might not have said such ridiculous words – who cares about selfishness? There were bigger problems than losing points.

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"But it is mine," I told him. "Malfoy's going to be able to best you, Harry – he's been in this world his whole life and he's actually pretty good. He's done spells before you have."

"Have you seen him do them?" Ron asked.

"Well, no-"

"Then he's lying," Ron said simply. "Come on, Harry – we'll go look up some spells."

They walked away, Harry sending me a look of worry over his shoulder that made me cross my arms over my chest and shake my head. Hermione sighed beside me.

"They're going to get themselves into so much trouble," she said to me.

"Good," I said back, she looked at me shocked.

"Well, you're a Slytherin; I suppose you don't mind if we lose points, then!"

"Better than my brother getting another lightning bolt scar," I rolled my eyes. "As big as his head has gotten, I don't think that his ego could fit it."

I was glad that I didn't need to look for an excuse to go back to the dormitory after that. My dorm mates weren't necessarily nice about the fact I was a Halfblood, or that I was raised by Muggles – especially Alya Rivers, even if Tracey Davis wasa Halfblood like me – but Daphne did tell them that I was better than those insults they were used to saying and they insulted me less and less...I was just glad I was getting somewhere.

Still, as I lay in bed with everyone asleep around me, all I could think of was how my brother was going into some kind of wizarding duel where he might need a second in case he died and he didn't even know how to shoot sparks like Ron said normally happened. Sure, it had happened when he had picked out his wand but I'm pretty sure that it hadn't been a conscious decision and that had been right before his psychotic wand had attacked me...what if his wand decided to turn against him, too?

Malfoy always talked about how he knew magic. He talked about how his parents let him play with their wands and how he had grown up his whole life listening to the pronunciation of spells and watching all the wand movements; if he tried a spell he was much more likely to get it right than Harry was – how could Harry know any of that? Harry didn't even know how to say the three spells we'd already learned properly.

God, as much as I wanted my brother to learn a lesson, I didn't want him to get killed. Or expelled – I couldn't imagine being here without him...even if he had become a bit of an arse since he found out he was God's gift to Man – or, as Daphne had explained – Magic's gift to Wizards.

I snuck out of the dormitory on my tip-toes, the green bath robe we were given tied tightly around my waist. I had planned to sit and wait Malfoy out, maybe convince him that this duel was a bad idea. In the meantime I brought my Potions textbook with me for while I waited, just to read up on some of the potions we would be learning later in the year – it was interesting to read. I really wanted to get to use some of the rarer materials like dragon parts or poisons...I'd never get near things like that if I wasn't good in the class and able to continue on.

I don't know how long I was sitting there before I the couch dipped at my feet. It was Malfoy; in his own green robe, sitting down and watching me while looking quite pleased with himself.

"I knew you'd be here," he told me. But he didn't, because I hadn't even known I'd be here.

"Aren't you going to go beat my brother up, or something?"

"Aren't you going to talk me out of it?" He questioned right back. "Or have you already warned Snape?"

"I wouldn't do that," I frowned. "I don't tattle."

"I didn't think you would," he smirked to himself, apparently he was proud he had guessed right. "Why do you want to talk me out of it anyway? Don't you want your brother to learn a lesson?"

"Not from you," I said back. "You're going to hurt him. I just want him to get in trouble."

He smiled, nearly cheekily, but the glint in his eye made it seem a lot less nice than it could have been. "Then I guess you're pretty lucky, Potter, because that's exactly what's going to happen."

"What do you mean?"

"It's nearly midnight, isn't it? I'm not there, am I?"

"So, you're just going to make him wait?"

"He won't wait long," Malfoy told me. "I won't show up...but someone will."

"Who?" I asked, sitting a little straighter when I noticed how happy and devious he looked – that was not a good sign. "What did you do?"

"I warned Filch about students breaking the rules, of course," he explained as if it were simple. "Don't tell me you didn't consider it."

"I didn't consider you to be so low!" I stood up, slamming my potion's book closed. "You tricked him!"

"That's what we do, Potter," he explained, standing up and rolling his eyes at me. "When I told you that you were the smart one, the better one, I meant it – we Slytherins are smart. The Gryffindors? Those losers are just slow and blind...if he expected me to just show up, he's dumber than I thought."

"He expected you to show up because he's honourable – you're just scared!" I huffed, throwing down my Potion's book while I moved over to the wall that separated the Slytherin dorms from the corridor in the dungeons. Malfoy ran after me and grabbed my arm.

"Don't be as stupid as he is – Filch is on the lookout, you'll be caught!"

"No I won't: I'm a Slytherin, Malfoy," I hissed back, glaring at him. "And we Slytherins are smart."

He scoffed at me but let me go – he didn't even follow me while I ran. I was glad I was wearing my slippers because it kept my footsteps really quiet but I didn't have a lot of traction to run around and a part of me worried the whole time that I was going to slip into a suit of armour and get myself caught like Malfoy told me I would. I was nearly to the Trophy Room, where Harry was supposed to be when I heard a suit of armour just in front of me get knocked over.

For a second I stopped, worried that I somehow had run into it with the toe of my slipper and not felt it – but it was too far in front of me and too loud – God, as the metal just kept falling I couldn't imagine how it wasn't loud enough to wake the dead! I quickly heard someone yell to run...and was nearly bowled over by my own brother.

"Harry!"

"Audrey!"

"It's a trap!"

"I know, run!"

I didn't need to be told twice. Harry lead the group of us – why there was a group of us, I had no idea – through the corridors; I don't know if he was weaving through all the different corridors because he was lost or because he was trying to lose track of Filch...but I was having a lot of trouble keeping up. Luckily I wasn't the slowest, that was Neville Longbottom, and I worked hard to make sure he stayed last in line.

We all nearly toppled over each other when we ran out into the Charms corridor; a good ways away from the Trophy room and I was glad when we all took a break to catch our breath.

"Anyone want to..." I took a moment to pant again. "Explain why there are so many of you?"

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, copying me to lean his forehead against the cool wall – my head was pounding and I don't know if it was because I could hardly breathe, or if I was just getting another one of my headaches.

"I – told – you," Hermione Granger gasped through the airless area around us.

"We need to get back to Gryffindor tower," Ron explained. "Quickly as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you, you realize that, don't you?" Hermione asked again, her know-it-all tone biting. "He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"She's right," I breathed. "I came to warn you as soon as I found out."

"Thanks," Harry breathed.

"Not that it did much good," Ron muttered.

"Better than you, encouraging him like you did!" I hissed. "And you call me the bad influence-"

"Shut it!" Harry whispered harshly. "Do you want to get us caught when we've only just outrun Filch? Come on, let's go."

"What about me?" I asked with a high voice as I looked around and tried to figure out where in the castle I was. "I can't just go back to Gryffindor tower, you know."

"Not our fault, is it?" Ron repeated. "You're a Slytherin, don't you get a free pass?"

"I don't and you know it," I hissed back. "You want me to lose points!"

"So?" he said back. "You shouldn't be out of bed either."

"I was trying to warn you!"

"That's her excuse too," Ron pointed over to Hermione. "Bet a teacher would believe her first."

"What," I asked, my mouth falling open. "Just because I'm a Slytherin?"

"Exactly!"

"What's wrong with you?" I stomped over to him, pushing my finger into his face and pointing at him angrily. "You know, for a Gryffindor you aren't very noble, you stupid little slug!"

"Shh," Harry warned.

"No," I said immediately, turning back to him. "Harry, I'm your sister – why are you letting this stupid boy be so mean to me all the time? Do you think I'm everything he says, just 'cause I was put in Slytherin?"

"Drea-"

"Well, do you?" I said back. He winced away from my tone, looking around at everyone else and around the halls to make sure no one else was listening.

"Well, you are rather crafty..." he said slowly, as if he were admitting his deepest, darkest secrets. "And you've always been more resourceful and cleverer than I am...you like trouble and don't mind getting other people in it-"

"I just risked myself getting in trouble for you!"

"I'm not saying all the time," he defended quickly, putting his hands up defensively before he used them to rub his neck. "It's just...you are a Slytherin. I couldn't see the hat putting you anywhere else now that I know what it is...and I-" he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm not. I'm a Gryffindor."

Ron looked really pleased with himself and I felt embarrassed, I could feel the tears prickling at my eyes as I registered everything he had said. We couldn't be that different, we were twins. We grew up together every day, we had gone through all the same things at all the same times – we couldn't be as different as he was saying, that just didn't made sense. And it didn't make sense that if we were so different, that it had to be such a bad thing.

He wouldn't have said this two months ago. He would never have said anything like this if he hadn't found out about what that stupid scar meant for him when he would go out in public. Since when did he put other people before me? Since when did he have friends who didn't like me? All my friends accepted that I was his sister, so why couldn't his friends accept it too?

"Do you know what I see, Harry Potter?" I growled, taking a step forward with my finger pointed right between his eyes. "I see a spoiled, rotten rich kid – one as bad as Malfoy himself. You challenge him as much as he challenges you and you rise to it every time he does. You think that you're better than me because you're a Gryffindor, just like Malfoy thinks he's better because he was raised this way. You know, I think that your head as grown so big that you have no choice but to flaunt that stupid scar of yours and I think you like it!You forgot everything that it means – everything it's supposed to represent-"

"Audrey-"

"Shh!"

"Don't make so much noise, you two!" Hermione hissed. I stopped speaking for a second, listening to doorknobs around us shift – we all silenced to listen. And then, from around the corner, a white shape drifted towards us and squealed happily.

Peeves.

The Poltergeist.

Exactly what we needed.

"Shut up, Peeves – please – you'll get us thrown out," Harry began, moving towards him to beg. Peeves only cackled harder, floating on his back and holding his belly as if he were rolling around on the floor with glee.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty." He sang, wagging his finger at us and cackling some more.

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please." Hermione tried.

"Should tell Filch, I should," Peeves said to himself. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Yes, it is," I sneered, backing up slowly towards the staircase. "You should do it – tell on them."

"He'll tell on you, too!"

"I'm a Slytherin and I'm smart," I repeated my brother and Malfoy's words with a sneer. "Besides, I already know I can run faster than Neville. You Gryffindors can be brave all on your own and Slytherins like getting other people in trouble, don't they?"

"Oh, get out of the way," Ron snapped, moving towards Peeves and waving his arms as if to try to disperse the ghost like smoke in the air. It was the wrong move.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, moving to make a face at Ron. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

I watched as Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione all ran towards the large Grand staircases, the one that would get them to the Gryffindor commons the fastest – I was already toeing the steps of the staircase that would get me downstairs fastest and I was quick to start running down it as fast as I could. It wasn't as easy as running away from Filch the first time – now I was tired and I didn't have other people to gauge how quickly I was going, which made me want to run faster but I also had to consider that I didn't want to fall down the steps.

I had made it down the stairs in enough time to feel relatively safe, but as I was running down the corridor towards the Slytherin commons I ran smack into a person – I froze, immediately fearing for Filch's wrath or McGonagall's fury...but it was much, much worse than that.

"Miss Potter, what are you doing out of bed at this time?"

I looked up at Professor Snape guiltily, my mouth open with excuses I couldn't word for some reason. He was the professor I liked most but his black eyes were always so angry and I found myself stuttering out nonsense while he waited.

"I – I didn't – I mean, I was trying to...Malfoy, he – there was supposed to be a duel and-"

"A duel?" he repeated. "Were you involved in a duel tonight, Miss Potter?"

"No!" I said immediately, shaking my head for far too long. "Malfoy and Harry, they...er – I really wasn't involved – I was trying to – er, they – they're still going back to Gryffindor and...and Peeves he...Professor, I really didn't mean to-"

"Enough," he said simply, sounding as if he were bored. "As much as it pains me to do, I'm deducting 10 points from Slytherin for being out of bed and a week's worth of detention...with Professor Flitwick – I've heard you need particular practice in his lessons."

I felt my face go red – I hadn't known that professors talked about your work in their classes to one another, but it seemed like Professor Snape knew well about the feather I had accidentally stabbed into my desk while I was trying to levitate it just two days ago.

"Yes, sir," I whispered, looking down at my slippers.

"And Potter, do not wander the halls alone," he said unexpectedly. "You never know who will be stalking you, while you're stalking others."

"I wasn't-"

"To bed." I dragged my feet all the way to the wall separating the dungeons from the Slytherin dormitories, getting a scathing look from the portrait on the wall.

"Potters, never following rules – your father and his friends never did it either," the portrait said snobbishly. I frowned, pouting a little as I moved farther away from the portrait.

"Augustus, I'm not in the mood," I muttered. "And I'm not telling you the password either – Malfoy warned me about you trying to pretend to be the Slytherin entrance."

"Well, that's just rude – his father will hear about that then!"

"Knock yourself off the wall," I muttered, whispering the password 'tradition' to the wall with special care that Augustus wouldn't hear. I trudged my way through the common room, still feeling absolutely terrible over how Professor Snape had treated me. I only stopped when I heard a sigh from one of the couches I had passed.

"You got caught, didn't you?" I looked over my shoulder to see Malfoy lounging on the couch that I had left him; he didn't even look like he'd fallen asleep during the past hour. "Did you lose us points?"

"Ten and I got a week's detention with Flitwick – my first month and I'm already in trouble!" I flopped down next to him on the couch, throwing my arms in the air hopelessly. He didn't seem bothered that I had just decided to sit beside him. "I ran into Snape and he...ugh, why does he hate me so much? Is it because I don't follow the instructions? Because I could; if that's what he wants, I'll follow the instructions for the potions-"

"That's not what it is," Malfoy said simply. "Snape doesn't really like anyone."

"He likes you," I pointed out with a scowl. "I just don't understand; Harry and I get here and it's like we've already offended him somehow ."

"It could be because you're so famous," he offered. "He doesn't like people who get special treatment."

"Harry's famous," I corrected him, pushing my head against the back of the couch and sighing. "I'm not as interesting, remember? The most interesting thing about me is...is..."

"You fancying Snape?"

"What?" I gasped, my head snapping up to look at him with wide eyes. "No! No, I don't fancy him! Pansy Parkinson is such a prat-"

"She's convinced half the year that you do," he told me honestly.

"Great," I crossed my arms and glared at the fireplace in front of us, making sure not to look around me and pay attention to the fact we were underwater – it would only scare me again. "Between Pansy and Harry I can't tell who I'm supposed to hit."

"What did your brother say?"

I looked at him, about to tell him everything before I furrowed my brow – this was Draco Malfoy I was talking to. I narrowed my eyes. "You were the one that got me in trouble! I wouldn't have had to go warn my brother if you would just leave him alone."

"You shouldn't go saving your brother anyway," he informed me as if I were dumb. "He doesn't come help you, does he? He doesn't care what you're up to, you know. You're different now and now he knows it – he won't understand you, he never will. I've seen how he looks at us Slytherins: thinking he's better than us because of what's he's heard. What he doesn't know is that Slytherins stick together – and we'll choose you – not like he did."

His words sounded like he were trying to play some kind of game, but they also sounded so supportive of me that I couldn't help but want to understand more of what he meant. He was one of the only people who had been nice to me these first few weeks and even though Harry hated him, Malfoy had been a lot nicer to me than I'd like to admit. "What do you mean?"

"He left you, right?" He shrugged. "I figured if you ran into Snape that meant you were alone – he left you alone. He had his little friends with him, I'd bet – but you went alone. And then he left you so that he could save himself..."

He wasn't exactly right, I suppose. I had really left him for dead, but it was nice to hear that someone was trying to understand my point of view.

"Slytherins stick together...but Gryffindors don't. They pretend to be all brave and loyal, but the only person they're loyal to is themselves. We're loyal to each other. You should remember that." He had made his point and he moved to go back to his own dormitory, but my curiosity got the better of me and I turned around in the couch to watch after him.

"If that's true...then why is Pansy such a prat to me?" I asked him.

"You were a prat to her," he informed me. But he smirked, looking as if he had a secret to share with me. "But do you know one of the best things about being a Slytherin? We get even."

And then he was gone.

Draco Malfoy sure was a strange one.

But he certainly was right about some things, that was true enough. He was right about Harry being such a jerk and about how we were supposed to stick together...maybe I would find that now that I was friends with Theo, but I wasn't sure if I could stick to Daphne. Not while she was friends with Pansy. And to think that Pansy had already started convincing everyone that I fancied a professor?

We get even, Malfoy had said.

You do like trouble and getting others into it, Harry had said.

Maybe they were right, I certainly did like getting even and getting people in trouble...

I couldn't have told people what I was doing before I was nearly finished it – it was like the sequence of events was all put in front of me to tease me until I just accepted that maybe I should be doing what Slytherins apparently do – if Pansy Parkinson wanted to start some kind of battle, I should show her my own guns, shouldn't I?

My potion's book acted like a guide I didn't need, the only thing I needed was the memory of how she had tried to embarrass me in front of my whole year and how my brother hadn't stood up for me – that was all I needed to fuel my late night of planning. Sure, there was also the need of my cauldron and potions kit and even sneaking into Pansy Parkinson's dormitory too – but those were all things that seemed so easy and so worth the risk. After all, if I had left my potions kit and cauldron just staring right at me from the foot of my bed, so close to the door...where would Pansy Parkinson have left hers?

By the time we were in Potions the next morning, I couldn't even contain my excitement. My entire body was twitching – I couldn't stop tapping my quill or bouncing my leg – Theo immediately knew that something was either wonderful or very, very wrong. I couldn't pretend to be surprised or contain the excitement when Pansy started screaming over Snape's morning lecture, her hands covered in painful looking red boils that were crawling up her arms the longer she went without the antidote. I felt like some kind of artist seeing their work appreciated by the masses – was this how Shakespeare felt when he had people watch his plays?

Harry and some of the other Gryffindors sitting behind Daphne, Theo and I were laughing as well – after all, no one really liked Pansy Parkinson. Harry and Ron tried to get my attention to ask what had happened, since they knew I could tell them whatever she had done wrong if it had to do with this class. I didn't answer them because I was too busy watching Snape criticize her for spilling her 'poor attempt at a potion' on her book from our last lesson – it was too perfect.

"Audrey," Theo whispered as he watched me smile. "Did you do that?"

"Yeah, I did," I said proudly, looking over my shoulder to Harry, who slowly stopped laughing when he saw the look in my eye. "And people should look out before it happens to them, too."

After making sure that my point had come across properly, I went back to watching Pansy Parkinson scream while the boils reached her neck. I laughed, somehow knowing that this was the start of something wonderful.

Based off of my story Green Eyed Monster.

I do not own the Harry Potter universe or its characters. I do own Audrey Potter, her ridiculously vivid potion-making skills, and her wicked nicknames.

Enjoy the flashbacks and please review :)