A/N: Good to see you again so soon. This chapter will probably make more sense than the last one (or at least I sincerely hope so). Took a lot of research before I got this about right, finally have some kind of plot tied down, too, which (of course) does help rather with these early chapters.

Disclaimer: Oh, Harry, how I wish you were my creation! Also I think I'd like to pay homage to Steve Vander-Ark and the entire HPL. You, my friend, are indebted one life from me. Also (for their inspirational purposes), thanks be to Avril Lavigne, Muse and Lily Allen.

Harry defeated Voldemort for reviews, you know (don't let him have done it for nothing).

-Tuskface

Chapter 1: Opening
'Complicated'
Sunday February 22nd 1998.

Alexis Kiely was going to die.

And she had no possible means of escape.

...Except maybe one.

Draco Malfoy could save her.

But was it really worth it? And was she desperate enough to let him?

And more importantly - how did she get herself into a situation like this?

Friday September 1st 1995.

'Half an hour.' The compartment door slammed shut behind Virginia Valmary, as she slumped back into the nearest free seat and immediately began playing with her mousy brown hair. The others present glanced up at the news briefly, only to return their attention to the black haired girl lounging back on Callum Wilke's lap, where she was seated. She had in her hands a copy of a newspaper entitled "The Daily Prophet", and was reading aloud in a clear, mocking voice.

'...attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in his own defence, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban.'

She scoffed and threw the paper to one side, exposing a black and white moving photo of a man in his late thirties, being led out of the frame.

'So it didn't work,' a boy with sandy hair said darkly.

'Are you saying you thought it would?' piped up the boy being sat on.

'No - just that...measures should be taken to prevent things like this happening again. We need every bit of support we can get. And this is just blatantly obvious, and very stupid.'

'Simon is right. They're making it bloody obvious what they're after, and where it is. If we're not careful...people we don't want to will work it out. Subtlety is the key, as they say. Now let me up, Wilke. We have to change. Nearly there.' The black haired girl, pulling Slytherin robes out from a trunk stored in the overhead compartment, nodded to Virginia, who didn't notice, deep in a whispered conversation with a blonde next to her, and still absently plaiting her own hair.

The rest of the compartment briefly became a mess of green-lined fabric and grey uniforms as everyone changed, filled with the rustling of clothes and small chatter. When finished, they all returned to their previous seats, and, silhouetted against the bright glow of the great castle now visible through the window, resumed their previous conversation.

Elsewhere on the red steam train, at the other end, almost directly behind the driver, sat a similar number of people, their compartment much more raucous than the previous.

'...and then they spent an entire four paragraphs on the shape and colour of his bowler hat!' A girl with a shock of brown ringlets said loudly, and the rest of the compartment broke down in giggles. 'And just look at that nose! Perfect with just the right amount of blusher - whoever his makeup artist is, they certainly know what they're doing. "I would've voted for Fudge ten times if I could have!" said one certain Dolores Umbridge, at the entrance to the Ministry of Magic...'

'You've got to be kidding, Dem,' a girl with straight dark brown hair choked out in between her own laughter.

'One hundred percent, Katie,' replied Demelza, passing the newspaper being read from over to her friend.

'I just can't believe it. Fudge Voted Stylish Wizard. What a headline!'

'To be honest, I'd believe the Prophet.'

There was a brief, tense silence.

'Are you kidding, Leanne?' asked Katie, suddenly, incredulously. 'You'd really believe this piece of junk?' She held up the rather ragged paper with a look of disbelief.

'Well, I think it's taking the right side against that load of tosh Potter and Dumbledore came up with about You-Know-Who returning, just to kill a seventeen year old Hufflepuff! "Yeah, I go around killing muggleborns and powerful witches and wizards, but I've just decided that after fourteen years' absence I'll return and kill a random pureblood!" Sure.'

Katie looked murderous. 'Listen here, Meadowes. I've known Potter for years, and I don't know about you, but if Dumbledore's siding with him, I couldn't care less what this thing says.' The newspaper was waved limply again. 'How the hell d'you explain Diggory's death in that case, anyway?'

'Oh, don't be ridiculous, Bell. He obviously was just killed by something really embarrassing like...like tripping and falling onto an acromantula pincer, or drank from some poisonous goblet in the maze or something, and his dad obviously couldn't take the shame, and - '

'So he made up that You-Know-Who killed him?' interrupted Vicky Frobisher venomously from her window-seat. 'Don't be a dunderhead, Leanne. I'm with Katie on this one.'

'Well, my dad says there's nothing more true than the Prophet, and - '

'And he obviously isn't as clever as your mum. I'd've thought you'd be a little more sensitive on this subject at least, Meadowes.'

There was another short silence.

'Say that again, McLaggen,' whispered Leanne dangerously, her hand inching towards the pocket of her ruby-red lined robes. Luckily this movement didn't go unnoticed.

'Oh, let's not fight, please?' sighed Katie, grabbing her friend's hand and pulling it aside, away from her wand. 'Cormac, apologise. Now.' (When he glared blankly past her.)

After a pause: 'Sorry, Leanne,' muttered Cormac McLaggen very begrudgingly.

The new break in conversation was on the verge of becoming awkward, just when the compartment door opened and a dark skinned seventh year fellow Gryffindor with her head haloed by black frizzy hair bounced in.

'Bell! Been looking for you all over. Long story short, I've been made Quidditch Captain, so I just thought I'd let you know team tryouts are next Saturday. Don't want you to miss them. Gotta run now, so I'll see you at the Sorting. Bye.'

Katie barely got in a "Congratulations, Angelina," before the recipient of the sentiments had left, closing the door behind her. 'Does she ever have a conversation at normal speed anymore?' the Chaser wondered aloud, earning a few chuckles from her counterparts.

'She may just rival Wood for pre-match team talks,' agreed Demelza, shaking her head with a look of pain on her face.

Thankfully, the new Quidditch Captain's intervention seemed to clear up the slightly malevolent atmosphere, and presently the banter from before returned.

However, more towards the back of the train, another compartment door was being opened to admit someone, too.

'What a waste of sodding time,' sneered Draco Malfoy, running a hand over the blond-white hair plastered to his head. He sat down opposite his two omnipresent friends, Crabbe and Goyle, and had his left hand immediately seized by Parkinson, her pug-like face looking admiringly at his pale, pinched one. 'They even made Weasley and Granger Prefects this year. Ruins the whole privilege. I find it quite offensive, actually, to be considered in the same vein as them. If my father only knew... At least we know there'll be changes this year...ones that hopefully will give dear Prince Potter something more to think about other than his fans and feeding the family of his blood-traitor pals.'

'You're right as usual, Draco,' enthused Parkinson in her scratchy, high voice. She was even more detestable than normal, the blond thought.

Blaise Zabini smirked over at his friend. 'At least think of it this way, Draco - you'll be able to take points off them for anything you want. And when the...ahem..."changes" happen, your list of privileges will only increase.'

Malfoy returned Zabini's grin (although really both of their expressions were veering far more towards sneers) and unconsciously reached up to touch the shiny silver badge on his chest with a finger.

'Oh, yes. It'll be quite an entertaining year, I think.'

And not two hours later, the year (one just as interesting as Draco had said) would begin, quite literally, with a bang.

'Uprising'

'Firs' years this way!'

Rubeus Hagrid's voice boomed across the crowded platform, his chest and shoulders standing out starkly against the night sky above the students milling about, clad in house scarves and hats. Away from the commotion, though, a small group made its own way against the half-giant's directions towards the self-led carriages facing up the path towards castle.

'Where's Lex?' asked Simon, anxiously.

'Are you really asking that, Keitch? She and Wilke will catch up,' responded Luciana, shaking her head stiffly, and giving one very unsubtle glance and the dropping blind of the train compartment the group had just exited. Simon flushed deep red and Virginia giggled with her ubiquitous blonde-haired friend, Chloe Oldridge as they trudged towards the winding path up to the castle.

'I don't know how she does it,' wondered the latter witch, dreamily.

'I keep telling you, it has to be her conditioner!' responded the former, eyes wide, a single finger pointing to her scalp. 'Boys dig good-smelling hair, I'm sure!'

'Why the hell are we friends with you two?' an exasperated Luciana asked icily, striding swiftly past on her stocky legs and quickly filling the last place on a carriage with four other sixth year Slytherins. Simon waited back, telling the two remaining - and still bickering over Alexis' relations with the other gender - witches that he'd catch the next trundling coach with them, and maybe Alexis and Callum, too (if they made it off the train before it departed for Kings' Cross once more).

It soon became apparent that waiting may take quite a lot longer than originally anticipated. So, pretty swiftly, the remaining Slytherins not on the train claimed a carriage and joined the long procession moving towards the school atop the cliffs far across the great, black, sparkling surface of the lake.

It was only shortly afterwards that the deserted platform's silence was broken. Just as cold autumn mist was beginning to drift along the still air, two teenagers emerged from the back end of the train, one male with dirty blond hair and one female with straight black hair just past her shoulders. The boy stumbled and laughed as if he were a little light-headed – this must have annoyed his haughty-looking companion, because she smacked the back of his head as she strode past towards the place where the carriages had been, smoothing down the left arm of her Slytherin robes.

'Hurry up, Wilke! The last one's just leaving!'

A mad dash later and the two jumped into the final carriage that was just slowly beginning to pull away. Leaning back in their seats, they caught their breath before glancing around to see who they were sharing with.

Oh Merlin, no.

Oh God, no.

Katie Bell had been one of the first off the Hogwarts Express.

However, she had also been one of the last to find a carriage up to the castle.

Hell, she had been the last. All because stupid McLaggen forgot his broomstick in the overhead compartment and had to go running back to get it. Politely, she and the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors from her compartment had waited for him (although she would reflect that she wouldn't have made much complaint had the Express left with Cormac still on it). And this was how they all ended up crushed into the very last self-drawn carriage.

So it was a surprise when the small door slammed open as they began to leave, and two others clambered in, breathing heavily from chasing the departing coach.

Katie hadn't been the only one to stare when the two new additions had been recognised. Demelza had stopped dead, mouth hanging open rather comically, in the middle of an intense gossiping session with Vicky. Cormac was frozen, his face slowly changing from an expression of interest to one of cold anger. Katie's eyes, too hardened, as did the looks on every other member of the compartment, set frigidly on the two most unwelcome Slytherins.

It took a good few seconds before they noticed, even so, under such volatile circumstances.

'Merlin,' Alexis remarked, as soon as she took in the scene around herself and Callum. 'It's been a while, hasn't it, Bell?'

'If that's all you have to say for yourself, then you can get out of this coach right now and walk up to the castle. Either you sit there and shut up, or you bugger off.'

'Well someone's polite today. Do you want to know how to spell swear words, Bell? I heard Peeves is rather accomplished,' mocked Alexis, earning an approving chuckle from her boyfriend (who didn't seem to notice that he had a blooming love bite on his neck or that his school jumper was inside-out).

Katie muttered several words even the school poltergeist would've been impressed by, and turned away from the Slytherins. Clearing her throat, she said loudly, 'So what was that about Eloise?'

Slowly, slowly, some kind of conversation began to return, excluding the two Slytherins, who sat opposite each other at the far end of the carriage. But Alexis was not one to like being left out of a good bit of gossip.

'I hear she's going to try to find a way to hex off her acne this year.'

The witch's interruption instantly reinstated the silent glaring match. But she carried on, unfazed, flicking a strand of loose hair behind her shoulder absently.

'Eloise Midgen, I mean.'

When no one responded instantly, Alexis switched her gaze to Callum's face.

'Er - yeah. I heard that, too,' he added, haltingly, having taken the not too subtle hint.

Katie opened her mouth as if to speak, but Leanne Meadowes was quicker.

'Fuck off, will you? Katie said to shut up, and that's what you're going to do, Kiely, or I'll hex you until you have acne. Got it?'

'Oh, please, don't hex me, Meadowes!' the addressed Slytherin immediately quipped. 'I might just die of the embarrassment! I really am absolutely shitting myself.'

All of a sudden, Alexis was forced to appreciate the similarities between the carriage's interior and a small copse. With the small sticks of wood drawn and pointed directly at her, it was quite difficult not to see the striking parallel. Chuckling, she half smiled at Callum, raised her palms by her head and conceded, 'We can take a hint, you know - the whole Spanish Inquisition wasn't quite necessary. Honestly, can't even contribute to a Gryffindor bitching session without having your eye poked out these days...'

Shaking her head in faux disappointment, she dragged her boyfriend out of the moving coach, landing lightly on the side of the track that led round the edge of the lake up to the castle gates.

As soon as the noisy Gryffindors disappeared around the next bend, however, the half-joking snarky look on her face disappeared only to be instantly replaced with one of fury. Her azure eyes burned like ice-fire, moon and twinkling stars reflected in each orb, granting them a scary, almost life-like movement.

'She's going to pay for that,' whispered Alexis, murderously, glowering in the direction of the departed carriage with a homicidal look that was soon to become much more fitted to her face. 'Better hope your friends are watching your back, Meadowes.'

'What's a "Spanish Incision"?'asked Callum, blinking stupidly (and earning himself another smack on the head).

'The Fear'

The Great Hall was packed full. People chatted loudly, as if they hadn't just spent the majority of the day with their friends already, many house colours mixing as they dashed to the table of their friends to welcome them back and catch up with them after the summer. It had been an unusually long one.

The Gryffindor table, in particular, was very well observed. People craned necks and some even stood up to get a good look at now-even-more-famous Harry Potter, sitting deep in conversation with his ever-present friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

'Just look at him,' spat Draco, clenching and unclenching a single pale fist which rested on the table before him. 'Really thinks he's something, doesn't he?'

'Bet he's looking for that buffoon friend of his, Hagrid. Too bad. I'm guessing your father is responsible, eh, Draco? Finally got rid of him?' Blaise raised his eyebrows, turning to the shorter boy beside him.

'Hm...actually, no. The moron probably set fire to his shack or something,' grumbled the fifth year in reply. 'Maybe he died.' (A hopeful tone.)

Blaise shrugged. 'I thought if anyone would know, it'd either be you or Kiely. She seems to know all that goes on round here.'

Draco tried to look indifferent. 'What's the big deal anyway? It's just some thick half-breed we're talking about, isn't it?' But despite himself, he still glanced down the table for the familiar black hair of his fellow housemate. 'Where is Kiely, anyway?'

'Are you really asking that, Draco?' Blaise's eyebrows moved even further (thought it was nigh on impossible for them to do so) up his forehead. 'Where d'you think she'd be?'

Alexis and Callum were the last into the Great Hall. They'd only noticed the rapidly approaching Sorting Ceremony by chance, when Callum's watch had come off his wrist and fallen as they made their slow way through the grounds towards the school. Having run the last two hundred metres or so of sloping pathway up to the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall, the pair located their friends in the mass of emerald robes on the far left, and slipped into the seats that had been saved for them.

'What kept you? That was a delay, even for you, Alexis,' sniped Luciana, leaning forward conspiratorially.

'I'll tell you later,' replied the witch in question, darkly.

'Oh, what happened? Contraception didn't work?'

'Shut up,' grumbled Alexis, much to the amusement of Luciana.

It was at this very moment that the final whispered conversations died out as a stern-looking witch passed down the central aisle of the hall, carrying a very old hat and a small three-legged stool. Behind her followed a long line of entirely black-robed students with young, nervous faces. The candlelight flitted across their faces in the near-silence, as McGonagall bent to put the stool down and placed the hat atop it.

There was a pause, where it seemed the entire school sat up a little straighter, waiting for that moment when the a rip at the brown fabric's brim opened wide, and burst into song with its croaky voice:

In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts was barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
'Together we will build and teach!'
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might some day be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so...

Alexis leaned back, and whispered around her boyfriend to Simon, 'It's another one of those 'house unity' ones, isn't it?'

'Yawn,' he agreed, but his eyes were still fixed on the frayed brown hat.

These differences caused little strife
When they first came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A house in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him...

'Looks like something went wrong along the way,' inserted the black-haired witch in an undertone once again to her friend, nodding at Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, their thickset forms on either side of the pointed nose of Malfoy.

Several people in the nearby vicinity sniggered, while others (especially those from the neighbouring Ravenclaw table) hissed shushing signals at the silently laughing sixth years angrily.

Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with duelling and fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed...

Muffled cheers came from some of the Slytherin groups at this.

'Good on him!' added Terence Higgs, nodding in approval of his house's founder's decision. 'They were just holding him back, anyway!'

And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfil my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether the Sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you...
Let the Sorting now begin.

Applause rang out across the Hall as the hat once more became still upon its diminutive podium, as people leaned together in groups to discuss the messages suddenly delivered rather unexpectedly by the bewitched Sorting Hat.

'House unity. I told you,' Alexis nodded, smugly.

'Now, when's food?' moaned Virginia and Chloe in unison.

Then, the tall Deputy Headmistress called forth 'Abercrombie, Euan,' and the Sorting commenced. The usual (and quite unofficial) battle for the loudest cheers, too, had started, none of the four houses willing to relent and admit defeat to their fellows.

Eventually, the line came to its end, and as the Hufflepuff table's cheers died away, Dumbledore stood and permitted them to eat (a double groan of relief from Virginia and Chloe).

When, eventually, the last of the puddings disappeared from the golden plates, and students leaned back, hands on distended stomachs, blinking sleepily and contentedly, Dumbledore stood once again, and silence fell.

There were the usual start-of-term notices, and while most of the older students paid little attention to the reminders they had already heard many times, only a very few students heard a stumpy little pink-robed witch's simpering cough, or saw her stand and look at the Headmaster expectantly.

Draco elbowed Blaise in the side, interrupting his hushed conversation with the Slytherin beside him.

'Here we go,' muttered the blond, smirking.

'Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome. Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!'

Going on in this way for a good few minutes, the end of her speech was received with a spattering of applause, which died out rather quickly.

'Potter looks like he's only just too eager to have his first lessons with Umbridge,' Alexis grinned at her friends, casually flicking her head in the direction of the marked boy. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, sitting by their friend dutifully, seemed to be deep in a harried discussion. Granger looked particularly cranky, and Potter downright furious. 'He'll get what's coming to him, soon enough.'

Dumbledore finished off the slightly disrupted evening, and sent them off to their dorms for much needed sleep before the first few days of term ahead - ones that were always guaranteed to be eventful.