Chapter Three: First Impressions

Music blared through the west wing of the house, Arianwen was getting ready for her farewell party. She'd invited Brianne over so they could get ready together, then the boys would pick them up at 9pm. She still didn't know where they were going, she just knew the dress code: party formal. From what she knew about Gwyn's tastes, this basically translated to mean 'dress like you're going to a film star award ceremony after party', or as Gwyn had so delicately put it "we're gonna get fucked up but we wanna look good while we're doing it".

Both girls were dressed and ready to go, they were sitting on some armchairs in Arianwen's room, chatting loudly and sipping champagne. Arianwen was wearing her new dress from Madam Louisa's and now that she'd done her hair and make up, she loved the dress even more. She'd opted for a side parting and had swept all of her hair over one shoulder, she'd arranged it into large voluminous curls and wore scarlet red lipstick, accompanied by black winged eyeliner. The effect was very 'old Hollywood glam'.

Brianne had also gone for a floor length gown, only hers was a high halter neck dress with almost all of her back exposed. The dress was made from a black non-shimmering silk material, her golden blonde hair was pulled back into a sleek low bun and she'd opted for dark copper-effect eye makeup and nude lips. Both girls looked absolutely stunning, and they knew it. It added to their feeling of elation and excitement for the upcoming festivities.

Brianne topped up her glass of champagne; she was currently questioning Arianwen on Blaise Zabini, her current love interest.

"So what type of girls does he like?" she asked intently

Arianwen groaned, she hated gushing over guys, "well… I'm pretty sure he's wild for cute blonde girls in black dresses". Brianne pouted at her, she wasn't playing along.

"Come oooon" she moaned, "be serious!"

"Okay fine. I know he likes intelligent girls, there's nothing worse than feeling like you're talking to a brick, but he doesn't like it when they know more than him about Quidditch" she rolled her eyes, as if to say 'men!', "and I know he's a butt kinda guy… so you're all set there" she winked as Brianne laughed loudly, "but apart from that I'm not sure, you'll just have to get to know him" she gave her another exaggerated wink and waggled her foot against Brianne's leg.

"Now top me up, bitch!" The girls always struggled to keep any level of decorum when they were together, especially when alcohol was involved.

"So Hogwarts tomorrow then." Brianne said, changing the subject.

Arianwen gave a long sigh, "yeah, I can hardly wait" she said sarcastically, "and their train leaves at 11am, how the hell am I meant to be awake and ready in time for that?!"

Brianne laughed, she knew from experience what Arianwen was like on a hangover…and it wasn't pretty.

"So how did you manage to convince your uncle to let you come tonight?"

"I didn't" Arianwen admitted, "I got Rufus to invite him to the Ministry's summer ball" she grinned mischievously. When she referred to 'Rufus', she was talking about the Minister for Magic; he'd attended school with her mother and had a bit of a soft spot for Arianwen.

Brianne laughed, "very good, well done!"

They heard shouts from outside and ran to the window, the boys had arrived.

"Come on!" Owain shouted, "Lets gooooo!" When the girls got outside, they could tell that the boys were a bit tipsy, Gwyn had undone his bow tie, Owain's shirt was half untucked and Carwyn's normally perfectly slicked back hair had become unruly. Arianwen preferred it that way anyway, it gave him more of an approachable youthful handsomeness.

The three of them looked positively giddy with excitement. "So? Where are we going?" Arianwen questioned, as she and Brianne hugged each guy in turn.

"It's a surprise!" Gwyn shouted, clearly amped up by the bottle of fire whiskey he was clutching.

"Aren't your sisters coming?" Brianne asked Gwyn.

Arianwen looked delighted, "Bron and Katie are coming? Where are they?" Whenever Gwyn's older sisters went out with them, they had the craziest night. The three siblings all looked quite similar, they all had light brown hair, deep tans and light honey-brown eyes. Gwyn was the youngest, then it was his sister Bronwen who was 18 and Katie who was 19.

"They're just waiting outside the gates" Gwyn beamed, he was very close with his sisters, the three of them went partying quite regularly.

When they reached the gates, they could hear the excited chatter of Bronwen and Katie, so Arianwen and Brianne ran out to greet them. All four girls screamed at each other and jumped about wildly.

The group gathered in a circle and exchanged compliments and well wishes. Then suddenly flashing cameras repetitively lighted up the scene, the paparazzi had arrived. The press were always so interested in the antics of young aristocrats. One reporter shouted out to them "where are you off tonight guys?"

Gwyn span round and brandished his bottle of fire whiskey happily, "PARIS!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. The rest of the group whooped and cheered enthusiastically. Arianwen felt a hand on her arm, Owain was grinning down at her, "lets go!" and before she knew it he had pulled her close and apparated.

They arrived outside an exclusive Parisian club in a heartbeat. Arianwen beamed at Owain and leaped into his arms happily, "ahh! I love this place! Thank you so much everyone!"

They entered the club, which was already heaving with people despite the early hour. The club manager led them into the V.I.P area, where the England National Quidditch team were celebrating a victory from earlier that evening. Owain led them over to a large booth, which held more bottles of spirits, wines and champagne's than they could possibly drink between them. Carwyn started pouring drinks, and before she knew it, Brianne was pressing a glass into her hands.

Carwyn stood up, raising his glass in a toast, "To Arianwen!" he shouted, "Our very dear friend and hangover savior, we'll all miss you very much. Don't go making too many friends and forget about us" he joked, "now lets get fuckin' steamin'" his accent thickened the more he drank.

Everyone cheered and downed their drinks…and that was the last thing Arianwen remembered…

"Lady Arianwen!"

"Shhhh"

"Lady Arianwen! You must wake up!"

"Nooo. Go away!"

"Lady Arianwen!" The high-pitched shouting was getting louder and more urgent.

Suddenly, light flooded the room and Arianwen groaned loudly. She was lying face down in bed, limbs spread out in a starfish motion, it was incredibly un-ladylike.

"Betsy!" she attempted to shout angrily, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. Next thing she knew, her duvet had been ripped away from her.

"Noooooo" she groaned again, assuming the fetal position.

"Lady Arianwen must wake up." The voice said matter-of-factly, only this time it came from above her head. Arianwen opened an eye in confusion; Betsy was hovering above her, a large vat of water looming ominously over her head. Betsy clicked her fingers and the freezing water plummeted down, covering Arianwen from head to toe.

"AAAARGH!" she screamed and leapt up.

"I'm sorry my lady but Betsy must make sure you get to Kings Cross on time, Master Dafydd insisted!"

Arianwen could've punched something, dripping wet and shivering, she ran to her bathroom and turned the water on in the shower. She started peeling the wet clothes off her, only to realise that she'd been sleeping in a blue silk blouse and a bright coral summer skirt that she hadn't worn for about five years. Whoever had put her to bed clearly had no idea what girls' pyjamas look like. She jumped in the shower and let out a deep breath as the warm water engulfed her.

"Betsy?" she called.

"Yes, my lady?" the elf's voice became clearer as she entered the bathroom.

"What time is it?"

"Its twenty past ten, my lady"

Arianwen yelped, "WHAT?" she had to be on the train by eleven.

She'd never got ready faster. She shoved on her new uniform and stuffed the cloak into her luggage so the muggles wouldn't stare at her as if she were mental. Muttering a drying spell while waiving her wand at her hair, she roughly forced it into a loose bun on top of her head and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked pretty washed out, with dark circles under her eyes. Her lips always puffed up when she was hungover but luckily it quite suited her, she was naturally quite tan so unless you knew her well you would probably just think she looked a bit tired. By twenty to eleven, she was ready to go.

Grabbing the aviators from her dresser and shoving her watch on, Arianwen flew out of the door and down the stairs to the entrance hall where her trunk was waiting for her.

Betsy placed a tiny hand on the luggage and another in Arianwen's palm and they apparated to the wizard waiting room at Kings Cross Station in London. Arianwen said her goodbyes to Betsy and made her way quickly through the barrier on platform 9¾. An impressive black steam train was waiting in the station, steam billowing from its chimney. The platform was surprisingly quiet, Arianwen noted, there were just a few families dotted around, talking to what she assumed were first years through the windows of the train. Maybe everyone was already on board.

She lugged her trunk onto the train and started walking down the long carriages, looking for somewhere to sit. She didn't have to search for long though, most of the carriages were empty. Her nose wrinkled in confusion, she looked down and her watch and cursed loudly at what she saw. It was only ten to ten. Betsy had lied to her; it must've been just twenty past nine when she was awoken. Arianwen heard a squeal beside her, a timid looking ginger girl had jumped at her swearing and was now walking quickly in the other direction. She rolled her eyes in exasperation, not that anyone could tell because she still had her sunglasses on, and they're staying on, she thought moodily.

She wandered about half way down the train and opened a carriage door, at least I get first pick. With one great swing, she lifted her trunk onto the bench opposite and opened it. She found a small travel pillow, a bottle of water and a silk scarf. Betsy knew her hangover preferences well.

She kicked off her flats and flumped down onto the bench beneath her, it was a nice soft material and the cushions were plump and squishy, perfect for a nap. Putting her travel pillow at the window end of the bench, she lay down dramatically. Sunglasses still shielding her eyes, she pulled the silk scarf over her face and clutched her water bottle. Now for some much needed sleep.

Arianwen awoke to a loud horn, signaling the departure of the train, a faint chugging sound came from underneath her compartment, and the train slowly started to move from the platform. She kept the scarf on her face, hoping that she looked unapproachable so no one would bother her. She could hear a low buzz of chatter and the occasional shriek or excited shout, closing her eyes again, she attempted to drift off.

Blaise had settled himself in their usual Slytherin compartment, it was near the back of the train and they had sat there ever since their first journey to Hogwarts in first year. His classmates slowly started to trickle in and take their seats; he shook hands with Theodore Nott and nodded at Crabbe and Goyle, most of the Slytherin girls in his year preferred to sit in their own compartment and gossip about their respective summer holidays. Blaise was absolutely fine with that, it meant that they'd all calmed down a bit by the time they were seated at the house table for the feast.

His thoughts moved to Arianwen, she should be somewhere on the train. Blaise pictured her trapped in a compartment with a group of excitable first years, she would absolutely despise it. I bet she's feeling fresh today, he smirked, remembering this morning's paper. Arianwen had gone one a big blowout before the new term, and unfortunately due to her status and that of her friends, the paparazzi had followed her everywhere. There were some less than favourable pictures of her in the Daily Prophet's society section. He'd brought the paper with him of course, he knew her reaction would be amusing. He made a mental note to go and look for her after he'd been to see this Professor Slughorn fellow, as requested.

By the time he got back to the compartment, Draco and Pansy had also returned from their prefect duties.

"Draco", he said, shaking his hand, "nice to see you again Pansy" he lied.

He stood up and pulled his trunk down from the racks and rummaged around blindly until his fingers curled around the familiar texture of the Daily Prophet. He went to leave the compartment but was stopped by Draco's voice.

"Where are you going now?" Draco drawled despairingly, he'd barely seen any of Blaise for the whole journey.

"I want to see if I can find Arianwen, she had a big night last night," he said smirking, "I wouldn't be surprised if she missed the train."

"Well I suppose you'll be wanting a prefect to accompany you then, keep you out of trouble and all that." Blaise did not want company.

"If you must," he drawled in a bored tone.

"I'd better come with you!" Pansy piped up, Blaise couldn't help but roll his eyes; she really couldn't bear to be without Draco for more than a few minutes.

Blaise repeated his previous statement, "If you must."

They made their way down the train, looking in the various compartments for any sign of Arianwen. Well, Blaise was looking; Pansy was just clinging to Draco, whispering things in his ear and giggling. He stopped outside a compartment in the middle of the train and laughed at the sight before him. There she was, lying dramatically across a whole bench, her trunk perched on the opposite bench presumably in an effort to stop people sitting there. It had clearly worked and Blaise could understand why, she looked extremely unapproachable. She had a silk scarf draped over her face, with one arm extended, resting on her forehead. She'd taken her shoes off too and her socks were crinkled around her ankles; her skirt had ridden quite far up her thighs revealing her long, toned legs. Possibly the most amusing part of this display was the way she was clutching her bottle of water. She looked like a corpse that was about to be pushed out to sea in a little boat that would be set on fire with a flaming arrow. The whole effect was really very amusing.

"Here she is," Blaise said, nodding to the compartment. Draco and Pansy both stared at the girl, matching expressions of bewilderment on their faces. He gestured to them to be quiet and slid the compartment door open.

Draco and Pansy sat on the available bit of bench next to Arianwen's trunk and watched as Blaise perched on a small section of bench next to Arianwen's motionless body. A wand was instantly pressed against his throat, she's awake then.

"Relax, its just me." The wand lowered slowly, and a husky voice whispered.

"Go away, I'm sleeping."

Blaise laughed and whipped the scarf off her face. He was even more amused to see that she was wearing dark aviator sunglasses; she really must be feeling rough.

"No you're not. Are you going to take the sunglasses off and look at me?" She huffed at him like a spoiled child that was being forced to have a bath. She moved the sunglasses onto her head but her eyes remained closed.

"Arianwen." Blaise said sternly. She sighed again but opened one eye begrudgingly.

"What do you want?"

"Just to see how you're getting on after last night. Do you remember much?" He tried to make the question sound as casual as possible but her other eye instantly snapped open and she sat up quickly.

"What do you know?" She asked suspiciously, she still hadn't noticed the other people in the compartment.

"Wow, you look ghastly!" He said, avoiding the question. Draco laughed to himself at this, Blaise could be so blunt. He thought she looked fine, a little tired perhaps but otherwise still very naturally pretty.

"Oh cheers," she said sarcastically, "I don't have any of my hangover potion left so I've been forced to rough it out like a muggle" she said, spitting out the last word venomously.

"Ahem" Pansy cleared her throat, making the blonde girl jump.

"Arianwen, this is Pansy" Blaise explained, gesturing to the dark haired girl opposite.

Arianwen sat up fully, placing her legs back on the floor. "Hello," she smiled prettily at the girl and extended her hand, "I'm Arianwen Gwydion".

"Pansy Parkinson" said the other girl, shaking Arianwen's outstretched hand.

Arianwen suddenly noticed the other person in the compartment, it was the blonde haired man from Madam Louisa's, she looked at him in utter bemusement. She had been so sure that he was much older than she. Draco smirked at the confusion on her face.

"Hello," he flashed her that charming smile, "nice to see you again".

Arianwen just nodded and frowned, her brain not fully comprehending everything that was going on, all she could think was that she'd like it to stop pounding so loudly in her ears.

Then suddenly it dawned on her, the guy from the store, the guy whose ring she'd taken and awkwardly returned via owl. It was him, he was in her compartment, he could see her loose bun, her horrible dark circles, her wrinkly socks- wait…WHY ARE THEY SO WRINKLY?!

The other people in the compartment jumped, looking at Arianwen in horror. Realising that she'd just screamed her last thought aloud, Arianwen saw no other way out.

She put her sunglasses back on and shrunk back to the corner of the bench, they can't see me, I'm invisible, they can't see me, she told herself.

"Uhh…I think you need that hangover potion," Blaise said looking startled, "I have some spare from the bottle you gave me." Arianwen perked up, like a dog that'd just got a whiff of their dinner.

Blaise picked the bottle out of his inner robe pocket and passed it to her. Without hesitation, she downed the entire contents and paused for a few moments.

It was as though she'd been brought back to life, the pounding in her head had completely disappeared and she no longer felt there was any danger of sudden vomiting. She put the sunglasses back on to reveal her now radiant face, any trace of dark circles had disappeared. She looked around at them all, smiling happily, her foul mood lifted instantly.

Blaise laughed, cutting the tension in the room. "Feeling better now?" he teased.

"Yes, thank you. You're an angel!" her eyes widened as she looked at Blaise, an innocently earnest appreciative expression on her face.

She turned to Draco and couldn't help but laugh, "shall we start again? Hello Draco Malfoy, how are you?" she extended her hand to him, and once again he took it and kissed it.

"Just Draco is fine. And I'm well thank you. I've been meaning to thank you for returning my ring to me."

"You know each other?" said Blaise and Pansy in unison. Pansy's tone was a lot more aggressive than Blaise, who just sounded confused.

"We met the other week in Madam Louisa's boutique" Arianwen explained, her voice no longer hoarse.

Pansy gave Draco an accusing stare, "and why did she have your ring Dracie?" she had a horrible voice, Arianwen noted, she seemed to be forcing an overly girly high-pitched simper.

"I left it there by accident and Lady Arianwen was kind enough to return it to me." He drawled sounding slightly irritated; he loathed being called 'Dracie'.

"Just Arianwen is fine." Arianwen mirrored, ignoring the other girl's whining.

"The train should be arriving soon," Blaise informed standing up and sliding the compartment door open, "we should head back and get our stuff."

The other two nodded and stood up, following Blaise to the compartment door.

"Good luck at the sorting ceremony," Blaise said to Arianwen, winking encouragingly.

"Thanks, see you guys later."

When the train arrived in Hogsmeade, Arianwen hopped off carefully, dragging her trunk behind her. After her visitors had left her compartment, she'd decided to neaten herself up a bit. She'd removed her hair from its casual bun and brushed it out so it lay in waves, an iridescent glow shining through it from the sunset on the platform. She pinned the one of the front side sections of hair back and let the rest flow naturally. She'd also applied some highlighter to her upper cheekbones and temples, mascara to accentuate her thick long lashes, and lip-coloured lipstick to make her lips appear plumper. All the other students were making their way towards some carriages and Arianwen started to follow them before a great bear like giant called her name out and informed her that she was to approach Hogwarts on a boat, with all the first years.

It was a humiliation that she endured as casually as possible, not wanting everyone else to pick up on her awkwardness. The castle was quite lovely, she mused as her boat moved silently across the lake. Its many windows lit up with candlelight, it seemed to twinkle proudly as they approached.

On arriving in the large entrance hall of the castle, they were greeted by an old, stern looking witch who spoke in a thick Scottish accent.

"Hello students, I am Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Head Teacher," she surveyed them all carefully, looking over her thin silver-rimmed glasses at each new face, "Right then, you must all wait here until the sorting ceremony commences. You will each come to be sorted individually when I call your name."

A few minutes later, the grand doors to the Great Hall opened and they all filed in, following the professor down the centre of the long hall to a little stool that was placed in front of the teacher's table. Arianwen looked round, trying to spot Blaise. She saw him at the far left table, he seemed to be listening intently to a story from an animated Draco Malfoy. The group all laughed nastily and looked over to a dark, messy-haired boy who was rushing down the side of the second table on the right, seating himself next to a ginger haired boy. His face seemed to be covered in dried blood and he was attracting quite a few horrified stares from his fellow students. She assumed his current bloody appearance had been caused by Draco, as he was smirking and laughing proudly as his friends patted him on the back.

She was drawn away from her thoughts when a loud song started echoing through the hall. Looking towards the source of the noise, she saw a ragged hat moving about on the stool next to Professor McGonagall, it was singing an odd song about Hogwarts, the different houses and how they should all stand united or face mortal peril. She had no idea which house she'd be put in, Blaise had roughly run through the characteristics of each house with her when they'd been together in the summer, but she didn't really have a preference from what he'd told her. He had said something about all the blood traitors ending up in Gryffindor House, though.

McGonagall started reading names from a long parchment, she was reading in alphabetical order so when she had reached, "Gorman, James", she expected to be one of the next people to be sorted.

She watched as little James sat down on the stool and the hat was placed on his head, he was so small that the hat covered his eyes. A few seconds later it shouted, "Hufflepuff!" and the far right table started clapping and whooping merrily.

"Henderson, Morag" Professor McGonagall called. Arianwen wrinkled her nose in confusion, why had her name not been called? She groaned inwardly, knowing that she'd end up being the very last name to be called. Standing amongst the first years was already embarrassing enough without it being dragged out unnecessarily. She looked like a giant in comparison to them, and she was only 5"6 so they must be especially small.

After what felt like an eternity, she was the only student remaining to be sorted. However, rather than calling her name, McGonagall addressed the room before her, "This year we have a transfer student joining us from St. Alban's School in Wales, you will all join me in welcoming her to the school," McGonagall started clapping and the rest of the students followed suit politely. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. Luckily she was quite used to being the centre of such a large crowd, as she'd often co-hosted large parties and events with her father.

"Marchioness Arianwen Gwydion" McGonagall announced. Arianwen cringed internally; the English and Scots had done away with most of their titled landed gentry in the late 1800's so announcing her full title made Arianwen look rather self-important.

Despite her inner turmoil, Arianwen lifted her chin and moved gracefully towards the stool. Perching upon it, she waited for the sorting hat to assign her a house.

"Oh how interesting," a smooth voice spoke in her ears, "we don't get many Welsh students. Now where to put you, where to put you. You possess a lot of the Hufflepuff qualities I see: hard working, kind-heartedness, patience. Though the same can be said of Slytherin, you're very resourceful and expertly cunning. Hmm where to put you."

The hat seemed to ponder the decision for a while, muttering about her Hufflepuff qualities versus the Slytherin ones, and then finally it announced to the room,

"Slytherin!" She heard a mass groan coming from the Gryffindor table but ignored them and made her way over to the table on the far left, smiling as Blaise beckoned her over.

"Excellent!" Blaise praised as she took the empty seat next to him, "I did wonder which house you'd end up in." he mused, her fellow sixth year students were all watching her, trying to figure her out.

"Yes," Arianwen agreed, "it did seem to be quite conflicted, kept talking about my Hufflepuff qualities-"

"Yucgh!" Pansy interrupted, looking like she'd just smelled something rotten and disgusting. "How on earth did you get sorted into our house if the hat said you have Hufflepuff qualities, they don't mix in the slightest." The five girls that were sitting with Pansy all broke out into loud, nasty laughter, looking at Arianwen in contempt.

Arianwen surveyed Pansy coolly, her green eyes flashing wickedly at the challenge. She felt Blaise tense beside her, clearly noticing the shift in atmosphere. "Apparently," Arianwen drawled, her voice sounding almost lazily evil (A/N: think Scar from the Lion King) "I am most patient." She heard a low chuckle from beside her, Blaise could appreciate the irony of the situation as he knew how much restraint his friend was currently practicing.

"Well," came a quiet voice from across the table. Arianwen looked over to see a pale weedy boy, his hair was a very dark shade of brown and his face was somewhat rabbity. "Clearly she has enough of the Slytherin traits to have been placed amongst us. I'm Theodore Nott." He held out his hand and she shook it politely, flashing her usual captivating smile.

"I believe you may know my father, Theodore Nott Sr.? I met your father a few times, shame to hear about his passing." The boy didn't look like he thought it was a shame in the slightest, in fact he had a provoking smirk on his face. She was being challenged again. Arianwen paused, now that he mentioned it, she did remember Theodore Nott Sr. She hadn't liked him one bit, he'd always been so creepy and evil looking, a textbook villain, she mused. Her father hadn't liked him either, she recalled him telling her about a time when Nott had tried it on with her mother, when Arianwen was much younger. Their paths only crossed when absolutely unavoidable, at functions and suchlike.

Speaking in her usual calm soft-spoken tone, Arianwen replied, "yes I do believe I met him a few times, a very competent wizard" it was the type of veiled comment one would make when they couldn't find anything else positive to say. The boy's arrogant smirk remained in place, "yes," she drawled as if in deep thought, "pity about his current incapacity." That wiped the smirk off his face.

She was referring to his father's current incarceration in Azkaban prison, it had been widely reported in all the newspapers that summer. The boy leant back, seeming to ponder something.

He nodded once, indicating to Arianwen that she'd passed his little test. The boy proceeded to introduce the other sixth year Slytherins at the table. There were two thuggish boys, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle; Draco Malfoy, whom she'd already met; and six girls. Pansy of course, and then Millicent Bullstrode, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Kathleen Spencer, and Margaret Avery.

Arianwen greeted each person politely, before Theodore Nott spoke again.

"And how should we address you? Marchioness or Lady?" The others looked at her, she thought she picked up a hint of jealousy in the gazes of the girls.

"Simply Arianwen will suffice for now." She inclined her head at them importantly, like a Queen dismissing her subjects. She couldn't have them forgetting her superior bloodline, perhaps if they hadn't all been so rude…

There was a general consensus of understanding and then the table broke out into clusters of animated chatter.

Arianwen glanced at Draco, who hadn't spoken in a while. He looked somewhat perturbed and she instantly remembered that his father was also locked up in Azkaban, she'd read it in the news. Feeling guilty, she flashed him an apologetic smile but he looked away, his face blank, and struck up a conversation with Pansy, who looked sickeningly thrilled.

Noticing the exchange, Blaise spoke to Arianwen in an undertone, "he's still quite sensitive about it, he's very close with his father you see. He looks up to him." Arianwen nodded in understanding, maybe she would mention something if she got a moment alone with the blonde haired boy.

In an attempt to change the subject, Blaise pulled out his copy of the morning's Daily Prophet and dropped it into Arianwen's lap.

She groaned loudly, "do I have to look?" she shot him a pleading look but he had already picked up the paper and found the relevant page.

There she was, on the front cover of the society section, doing a body shot of vodka off a dwarf with her hands tied behind her back. There were other people in the picture too, seemingly cheering her on. She watched as her photographic self proceeded to do three more shots, before Bronwen untied her hands and she was hoisted into the air in celebration by a few members of the English Quidditch team.

Noticing the page that Arianwen and Blaise were looking at, Daphne Greengrass exclaimed, "that was you?!" The attention of all the other sixth years were now upon her, even some of the seventh years were looking over curiously.

"Ah…" Arianwen struggled to keep her voice flat, "yes that's a little…unfortunate." Blaise howled with laughter at the look of sheepish amusement on her face.

"That's not all," Daphne announced and reached over to snatch the paper from Arianwen grasp.

She turned the page and held the paper out for Draco and the girls on her side of the table to see.

Pansy laughed evilly, pointing at another picture, "Look she's making out with Edward Fenwick!" the girls all giggled hysterically.

"Was he amazing?" Margaret Avery cooed. Edward Fenwick was the captain of the English National Quidditch team, he was devilishly handsome and had an army of female fans.

"Hmm" in all honesty, Arianwen couldn't even remember seeing him. She took the paper back and looked at the picture. Draco exchanged amused looks with Blaise as her mouth formed a small 'o' of realization. She looked up from the paper and couldn't hide the mischievous look on her face as she replied, "he was a bit nibbly actually."

The girls screamed with hysterical laughter, Arianwen would fear for Ed's safety if he ever met this group of girls. They seemed like the type of people that would buy the most expensive and powerful love potions on the market.

"You really should learn to control yourself on nights out." Blaise drawled teasingly, still looking amused.

"Yeah," Crabbe piped up randomly, "pureblooded witches should have more grace."

"Yeah!" Goyle this time, "you'll never marry into a good family with pictures like that in the press!"

Arianwen fixed them with a cool, penetrating stare and they seemed to shrink in their seats a little. Their mothers had clearly sprouted this information at them repetitively and they knew no better than to parrot it back out. The girls had become hushed, wondering how Arianwen would respond to such insults.

"If you'd seen what I have seen, you too would turn to the bottle." It was a mysterious thing to say and Draco found himself becoming very curious about what had happened to this girl to make her say such a thing.

"Besides," Arianwen added, looking over her subjects with an air of extreme paramountcy, "I am to be the Duchess of Pembrokeshire & Carmarthenshire, I am the 'good family' you speak of. I don't need a man."

Crabbe and Goyle both looked bemused, they'd never heard a woman say she didn't require a husband; pureblooded witches were normally obsessed with plotting their engagement possibilities. Some of the girls were looking at her in adoration, they had become so used to the casual sexism that they didn't even think to challenge it. Draco and Blaise both exchanged a look and Blaise rolled his eyes, making Draco laugh to himself. He hadn't expected Arianwen to be so head strong, when he met her in Madam Louisa's, she'd seemed so sweet and innocent. He quite liked it though, maybe there was more to her than just a pretty face.

A/N: So that's chapter three, let me know what you think :) Thanks to lightbabe for your review! The chapter's seem to be getting steadily longer at the moment, I'll try and cut down a bit on the next one, there's just been so much I've wanted to squeeze in!