"Oi!", Clio jumped, startled. She turned around to see Pansy and her friends waiting for her. Curfew was fast approaching, and she did not want to get in trouble her first night in the castle. Pansy pointed to the painting at the end of the hall and headed towards it, her raven hair flowing as she walked. Clio glanced once more down the hall at Draco. He was getting ready for his patrols, as he was a school prefect. He was laughing with his friends, but stopped when he saw her. Clio waved and slowly headed towards Pansy, pulling her large trunk behind her.

Pansy was alone when Clio reached her, and Clio glanced around the dungeon hallway, trying to find the others.

"They've already head into the common room, through here," she nodded to the portrait behind her. The portrait was of a woman with cerulean robes, holding a vibrant pink bottle, which appeared to be emulating a white vapor of some sort. The background she was painted against was an evening sky, with the different phases of the moon amongst the stars.

"Password?"

Not accustomed to talking portraits, Clio staggered backwards. The lady smiled a smug and almost sly smile. Pansy giggled, and grabbed Clio's hand. She turned towards the lady in the painting.

"Luna quod Astrum."

The moon lady nodded, and the portrait swung forward. Pansy lead Clio inside the dark corridor, and Clio felt herself jump when the portrait swung shut, leaving her and Pansy alone in the darkness, the only light being at the other end of the tunnel.

"You have to remember that password," Pansy's words echoed off of the cold stone walls, "Otherwise she won't let you in. Her name is Hesper Starkey by the way, she's on one of the collector's cards," they exited the tunnel and Clio gazed at the huge, emerald green room before her.

Dark stones lined the floor and walls, smooth from years of students walking upon them. In a far corner there were some large arms chairs and defined leather sofas. Banners and pennants were placed on the walls, some with serpents and others with brooms. A large fireplace took up almost the entire far wall, and skulls and snakes adorned its ebony mantelpiece. Two intricate iron gates stood on either side, adding to the dark aura of the room.

"You must exhausted from your trip, why don't you go turn in?," Pansy's expression was gentle, as she smiled at Clio. She pointed to the large, iron gate on the right of the fireplace, "That leads to the Girl's Dormitory, your bed should be the only one without a trunk," she gave a small wave and walked away.

Clio silently pulled her trunk towards the gate. She reached out and pushed it forward, the cold iron stinging her fingers. She made her way up the spiral staircase, a task made difficult because of her luggage. When she finally reached the top, she found herself in a small room with beds lining the walls. Each had its own little space, and after scanning each of them, found an empty area by a small window.

Clio pulled her trunk onto the bed and began unpacking her clothes, neatly placing them in the armoire next to her bed. Then she placed a small picture frame on her nightstand, next to a lone candle, her fingers lingering on the edge of the frame. The picture was of her mother. She had long, blonde hair that seemed almost silver, with deep blue eyes. Clio and her sister both looked like their mother, in appearance. Their father had dark black hair and cold black eyes. He never really spoke to Clio that much, and when he did, it was to tell her of something she did wrong or to complain about Cliodne and Dariah.

Clio slid her trunk under her bed and laid down on the emerald green bedspread. Gazing at the black canopy of her bed, she thought of her father. What would he say when he heard about her sorting? He would not be pleased, that much was for sure. He always went on about how the family has been in Ravenclaw for generations upon generations, and it was just her luck that she would break the chain. She winced as she imagined the lecture he'd give her, and then how he'd blame it all on her mother.

How was it possible for a man like him to be the husband of a kind woman, like her mother? Clio hated him, even if he was her father. He always introduced himself as their father, but their mother always introduced him as her husband. He seemed to never be able to recall his children's birth, first steps, and first words. He also hated the beautiful locket her mother sometimes wore, always telling her to never wear it in his presence. Clio wondered if what was inside the locket fueled this anger and resentment.

With a sigh she closed her eyes and felt sleep start to wash over her. She jumped a little as something brushed her leg. She opened one eye and smiled as Kisa curled up next to her. Clio blew out the candle and closed her eyes once more. The two fell asleep together, pale moonlight washing over them and in this moment, all Cliodne felt was peace.