A/N: Welcome to Chapter 2. Please enjoy your stay. You may also want to buy a t-shirt. But of course, that is optional (and totally unnecessary). Sorry, it's not as long as I wanted, but hopefully it'll do.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyright the beautiful innards of Joanne Rowling's head. Unfortunately, I do not have much access to those beautiful innards, but Steve Vander Ark is helping me with everything a little. Finally, credit to LostProphets, Muse, the Goo Goo Dolls and Atreyu - the creativity in my brain owes you all one.

Reviews are Severus Snape washing his hair.

-Tuskface

Chapter 2: Prophets
'Rooftops'
Sunday March 14th 1993.

Chloe Oldridge wasn't plain. She was tall, with long blonde hair and clear, pale blue eyes. She also had famous ancestry - what with her great-to-a-certain-number-of-degrees grandfather, Chauncey Oldridge (the first victim of the Dragon Pox).

However, these blatantly interesting facts about the Slytherin earned her nothing. And, of course, there was someone to blame for that.

You see, no one could be even remotely intriguing to anyone when they shared a dorm with Alexis Kiely. Unfortunately, Chloe hadn't realised this until now. And right now, she didn't look as appealing as her credentials might tell otherwise.

A knock came at the door.

'Bugger o - o - off,' choked out the witch, sniffing violently and dragging her sodden handkerchief across her puffy red eyes for about the millionth time.

'I'm going to blast this door down if you don't open it, Chloe. You're not sitting in there, drowning yourself forever, y'know. I won't let you.'

'I can do whatever I want!'

There was a sigh from the other side of the door, and a number of retreating footsteps. Chloe sat up straight, hand dropping to her sides on the emerald bedspread. Suddenly, she jumped up and cried, 'Fine, fine!'

Virginia entered with a sad smile on her face. 'Sorry, Chloe, but you can't lock yourself up like this. People will have to sleep in here soon.' The blonde fell back onto the bed, curling up into a semi-foetal position; her friend perched on the four-poster opposite. Then she leaned in, and whispered, 'Besides, I don't want you to have to sleep outside in the Common Room. It's better you just clear things up with her now than leave it till tomorrow morning and an uncomfortable night on the sofa later.'

When her friend didn't respond, the second witch approached her and patted her shoulder, patiently.

'It's just - just - I thought - I thought she was - she wasn't like that,' mouthed Chloe. She blinked up at her friend.

'I know, I know. But...it's better to be her friend than her enemy, right? Especially if she's in your dorm.'

'I think it's just better if we don't get involved at all,' came the dejected response.

Virginia rolled her eyes, and tucked a strand of mousy hair behind her ear. 'Just go with the flow, Chloe.'

The pair smiled at each other, one encouragingly and one in a slightly watery manner.

Friday March 19th 1993.

'But she hasn't talked to me all week!' she wailed, throwing her arms up desperately. 'I just want to die!'

'She'll come round! Did you apologise?'

'Apologise for what?'

'I'll take that as a no, then.' Virginia plonked herself down on a deserted chair, rubbing her temples with tense fingertips.

'I didn't do anything wrong - it was her, I have no reason to - '

'Chloe! She doesn't think about that. This is Alexis Kiely we're talking about here. She always wins the argument. You have to apologise. You're missing lessons, now. The finals are in a matter of months - you can't afford to do that!'

The other third year dropped down onto the chair next to her friend's. 'You're right. I just can't believe - of all people - I thought that she had some kind of knowledge of - y'know - good and bad - and how to speak nicely to people.'

'It was just an accident. She told me herself. She says she thinks you're overreacting and she wants an apology for that. That's all that she wants - then right back to normal.' Valmary smiled brightly and patted her friend on the back.

'Muscle Museum'
Saturday October 16th1993.

Leaves blew about in a whirlwind of autumnal colours. They washed against the iron-grey sky as they were tossed up by the passing draft of the black carriage. Laughter and loud talking ghosted across the bleak October landscape after it, floating on the wind long after the self-drawn vehicle had turned the next corner on the winding path which led (haphazardly) down to the small wizarding village of Hogsmeade. It came to a stop, seemingly of its own accord just in view of the first houses, the doors creaking open. A group of students crowded out, all in green-lined robes, silver-and-emerald scarves and hats, and long black cloaks. They were chattering at an almost antisocial level, and seemed to be roughly in a circular formation.

It wasn't hard, then, to guess that there in the centre stood one certain black-haired witch, at a stature of around 5'5", which seemed far more imposing when coupled with her renowned attitude. As it so happened, at this very moment, Kiely raised one gloved hand and silence fell pretty sharply.

'The Three Broomsticks?' she asked, and you could almost hear the boastful, self-assured smile in her voice.

There was a unified cheer, and the group moved off in the direction of the popular pub. The door swung shut behind the last pair of eager feet, and they found a few booths in the far right where outdoor clothes were being removed. The windows were steamed up against the frigid air, and the butterbeer was already flowing fast.

Alexis sat, crushed between her friend, Simon Keitch and new acquaintance, Emil Vaisey, sipping from a brown bottle and thoroughly enjoying being centre of attention. Luciana sat off to one side with a few fellows, in what appeared to be the middle of an intense drinking game (slash competition), while another couple of tables were filled with other Slytherins, gossiping and eating.

That was how it always was. The Slytherins sat separately; they had their own little corner, at odds with the blue, red and yellow alumni which occupied the rest of the place. Somehow, though, they were making enough noise in their isolation to even up the imbalance. So it explained why Vaisey had to shout as he leaned in towards Alexis.

'Let's get out of here for a while, yeah?'

Alexis glanced up at Vaisey, a Slytherin in her year.

'Where?' she yelled back.

He shrugged. 'It's just a bit too...stuffy in here.'

After a brief hesitation, she rolled her eyes and took a chance with the new friend. 'C'mon, then,' she muttered as he helped her out of her seat. As they got out of the pub's warmth, they ran across the road to a not-so-popular clothing store. As soon as the bell tinkled above their heads, and the dusty air entered their nostrils, they were approached by a store employee. Brushing him off quickly, Emil whispered, 'This way,' into his housemate's ear. Eventually, they got to the more empty side of the shop, quite a distance from the till and employee. One "No entry," door and a 'Colloportus,' later, and they found themselves alone at last.

Thursday November 2nd 1995.

Get rid of Vaisey. He's only a hindrance. Methodology is up to you, sweetheart. -H.

'Shit,' muttered Alexis. 'Thanks there, Harvey. So helpful; as always.'

Tuesday September 4th 1990.

At first, it went completely unnoticed.

Who should care if a student got up from their table at breakfast time? No doubt they were just going to talk to a friend. And such an assumption would be correct, in this case. And given that it was a first year, it was probably someone they'd met on the train in - just sorted into a different house. Entirely plausible - completely ordinary. Right?

Wrong.

Katie had decided to forgive her. Her feelings had gone completely haywire that first day - hope and euphoria to betrayal and hurt. But she knew that she just couldn't stay angry at her forever. Besides, they couldn't all be as bad as the older Gryffindors said, could they? She knew her - they'd made friends on the train in, for goodness' sake! - Alexis Kiely wasn't one of them.

So, it was with almost all optimism returning to her from that first day that Katie stood from her place on her house table and walked across the hall.

At first, it went completely unnoticed.

'Miss Kiely, are you paying attention?'

Alexis blinked once or twice, and refocused on her small Charms professor. He stood, raised up to a normal height, on his pile of books, with his wand in the air in the middle of a demonstration. He raised his wispy eyebrows in her direction.

'Sorry, Professor Flitwick.'

'Well, it's quite alright, just - do try to keep your eyes this way, please.'

But it soon became apparent (both to Alexis and to her teacher) that she wasn't concentrating despite the abrupt reminders constantly being dished out in her direction. Her eyes drifted off to the window, where they glazed over. She wasn't entirely sure what her emotions were doing. She was ecstatic - finally being at Hogwarts, the place she'd always dreamt of as a kid - but guilty, and sad, and angry. If only Katie had just let it drop! Maybe then everything would be good, maybe then her only feelings would be happy ones at being in the great castle.

Suddenly, there was a loud ringing in her ears, and she seemed to wake up from her dazed state to find her classmates packing away. She sat up, confused by the movement.

'Si, what's going on?' she asked bemusedly, grabbing her friend's sleeve.

'It's the bell, Lex. End of lessons for today! Come and join us for a game of gobstones in the Common Room...'

Putting the last of her lesson implements into her satchel, Alexis followed the still talking Simon out of the classroom into the corridors and down to the dungeons.

'You forgive me?' Alexis asked, incredulous. 'Katie, I never did anything wrong!'

'Yes, you did! You chose Slytherin, didn't you?' The plucky young Gryffindor pushed away a Ravenclaw third year who was attempting to get her to leave the malevolent-looking green clad students. 'You could've chosen Gryffindor, but you chose Slytherin!'

'I never chose anything! I - I asked for - ' But Alexis realised the implications of what she was about to say just then. It would be a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake to say that where she was seated now. 'I never did anything wrong. This is where I belonged, it's where the Sorting Hat put me, okay? If you can't deal with that, then leave well enough alone. I'm obviously not worth being your friend according to the colour of my tie.'

Katie's mouth opened and closed. She'd been so certain it was Alexis' fault from day one that she hadn't stopped to consider alternatives.

'Lex, listen - I - it wasn't you, it never was! It's just - just your - h - house - ' Katie seemed about to say something more, but it suddenly occurred to her what she'd just said. 'Look, we'll - er - talk about it later.'

'Will we? When, exactly?'

Katie had no answer, but she was definitely beginning to get very angry. Alexis had no right to act like this. She'd come over to do a good thing, and now - and now, this. So, instead of replying, she just huffed, and returned to the safety of Gryffindor table and the concerned voices of her new friends.

'Iris'
Saturday October 31st 1992.

It was early evening, and the Halloween feast had just finished. Malfoy and his cronies were in a good mood - leaving the scene of the (rather over-dramatised, he thought) petrification of that old arse Filch's cat - because it seemed that Potter's "crew" were in lots of trouble.

'The day he gets expelled, I think I'll send Dumbledore a box of chocolates and Honeyduke's Finest,' he joked, earning some snorts of laughter from Vincent and Gregory, as they descended to the dungeon level of the castle.

'Salazar,' he said to a wall, confidently, as they stopped before it. The bricks shifted to reveal an archway, and they entered.

But then - there was a massive explosion. Draco jumped about a foot in the air, and Crabbe and Goyle ran for the dormitories, cowering. Glittering purple and green swear words soared around the Common Room, and orange pumpkins adorned almost every surface.

It only took a couple more seconds of observation before the blond second year realised that someone was throwing a Halloween party. The Weird Sisters was blasting from an old stereo ("Do the Hippogriff"), and there was a mass of bodies moving in time to the heavy beat. Draco began to push through the crowd, trying to find and congratulate the organiser, but it soon became apparent his efforts were futile - and either way, the originally anonymous person was about to be presented to him.

As Myron Wagtail led the band with,

Wheel around and around and around and around...!

the massive throng of students in their white shirts (some with ties around their foreheads), jumpers flung aside, lifted one girl above their heads as a group. At first she seemed a little taken aback by her sudden airborne state, but she quickly adjusted and posed for the group, who cheered and began to chant her name in time with the music.

'Ki - el - y, Ki - el - y, Ki - el - y!'

He looked up at the girl now being thrown and caught; knowing he'd heard her name before, but never having actually spoken to her. And then, as she did a spin in the air, the large sunglasses she'd been wearing fell off, and he saw her face.

And that was when the rest of the room disappeared.

Sunday February 22nd 1998.

Draco Malfoy could remember clearly the time he first saw Alexis Kiely. Or at least, the first time he truly saw her. She'd been smiling, with her enigmatic navy eyes, laughing with her charming voice. She had been dynamic and impulsive, and perfect.

She wasn't anything like that now. In fact, he could barely recognise her. Her black hair was cropped short, and the circles under her eyes were more like bruises than sleepless nights. There was a long cut along one cheekbone which had swollen and seemed to be in the first stages of infection. He clothes were torn and dirty. Three of the fingers on her left hand were severely broken - they probably wouldn't set right when they healed. Her skin and flesh were so thin, the scars on her left wrist stood up like a line of thick white rope.

She slept fitfully.

So did Draco.

'Storm to Pass'
Friday September 1st 1995.

Alexis stood from the Slytherin table, instantly having her arm linked to Callum's as he, too, left for the dorms. They passed Malfoy, who stood just as Alexis went by, as if he was going to say something, but the moment had gone as quickly as it had presented itself.

So, rather than standing looking stupid, Draco grabbed the robes of Goyle and hauled him up, smacking Crabbe's thickset shoulder to indicate for him to do the same.

'What's the plan for tonight then, Your Highness?' asked Luciana petulantly, as she caught up with the rest of her friends. 'Surely not a party on the first night back?'

'No, no... Not that it'd be too much for me, of course. But I think it's just unnecessary - there's always something interesting happening on the first day of the year. And since Potter didn't arrive by thestral or something this year, it could well be Slytherin's year.' She smiled mischievously.

'So you have something planned, eh?' asked Simon, playfully punching Alexis on the shoulder.

'Oh, no - of course not! We'll just...play it by ear,' winked the witch.

Laughing, the rest of the sixth year Slytherins (as well as a few other years, tagging along) struggled through the Entrance Hall, pushing against the Gryffindors as they crossed each others' paths to get to the dungeons. After a couple of minutes, they decided there was just too much traffic and held back, waiting for everyone to leave.

The Entrance Hall emptied surprisingly quickly. It took a couple more minutes before the last of the house prefects' barking voices died out, and the castle fell silent from where they were.

'Wait,' whispered Alexis as they began to descend the dungeon stairs. 'In here.'

She grabbed their uniforms and dragged Simon and Callum into a dark recess around the wall (Luciana followed, haughtily). They all pressed up against the wall as the witch breathed, 'The teachers'll be coming - what d'you think they'll be talking about, eh?' Comprehension dawned on the wizards' faces, but the other witch just rolled her eyes as if she was quite bored by the idea. It took a short while before their plan produced anything.

'Oh, no, I just - dropped my bag - I'll make my - hic - way! No, no, Minerva - I'll be quite - hic - alright!'

'Sybill, you are not "hic" alright! Here, let me help you.'

Three of the four secret listeners stuffed fists in their mouths to stop their laughter from being heard (it was becoming gradually obvious to them that Luciana didn't want to be there, and was not going to be participating in their fun).

'No - you - you go ahead - hic,' insisted the Divination Professor.

'Fine - fine. On your head be it, Sybill. But don't let Dolores catch you.' Her voice sounded very thin, and the sixth year could imagine that her lips probably were the same, as they always went when she was angry or irritated.

There were a couple of other small conversations about their fellows, or even students, as the different teachers made their ways to their offices. After ten minutes or so, the four Slytherins thought it must be safe to come out of their hiding place and laugh in the open space just outside the entrance to the dungeon staircase. As they stumbled to said spot, though, it became evident that they had been wrong very suddenly.

'You four!' cried a trembling, affected voice. They all turned and found Sybill Trelawney a mere ten metres away, with one finger pointing at them, her eyes magnified by her ridiculous glasses, and her shawls nearly falling off. She tottered to one side, but managed to regain her balance (just). Even from where they were positioned, they could smell a strong stench of sherry.

'You four,' she said much more quietly, taking a few more teetering steps forward, until the smell was almost making them gag. 'What are you - I - which one - ?' Alexis was readying herself to talk to the teacher, and get her to return to her office in the top of the North Tower, and to make any necessary excuses.

'Professor, we were just making our way to bed - surely you should be doing the same?

'...Professor?'

The snake waved a hand in front of Trelawney's face, as she had just frozen, fixing her spooky glare dead on Alexis.

'Profes - '

'Fates are intertwined...of two born in the latter half dark things will become...there will be a betrayal...beware the crooked wand - it always snaps! The servant is twisted...no faith - afraid of the darkness...the missions are dire and will not succeed...those with power shall fall and the Dark lord shall rise again!'

The Professor was breathing hard, her voice broken from the harsh, monotonous way she'd just spoken. Then, she seemed to shake herself, and focus back on the young sixth years before her.

'Yes - yes, I am rather tired. I should be - getting along to - to bed now. Goodnight...goodnight...' and she tripped up the marble steps towards her office and sleeping quarters. However the four students were stock still where she'd left them.

Slowly, slowly, they turned to look at each other.

'Okay, what the fuck was that?' asked Luciana, sharply.

Draco was sitting in the Common Room, with Blaise by his side. They were playing a game of wizard's chess alone, in a dark corner of the large, open room. By the fire sat some seventh years, poring over a copy of the Prophet. Most of the youngest students had already gone to bed.

Sighing heavily through his teeth: 'Rook to E4.'

Blaise smiled as he sent his Queen to take Draco's small castle-shaped piece. When his piece had finished with it, she threw the rook onto a gradually growing pile of black casualties.

'Ugh, I give up,' Draco relented, angrily flicking his King over, and earning himself a nasty glare from his chess set, one beaten one even saying in a tiny, furious little voice: 'So all this was for nothing?'

As he leaned back and stretched in his green armchair, Draco noticed the door to the room open, and four sixth years traipse in. Luciana Duncan, with her dark brown hair and grey-black eyes looked like her normal bitchy self, Alexis Kiely looked defiant, Simon Keitch looked shaken, and Callum Wilke appeared to have wet his pants (or at least looked frightened enough to be about to).

'Kiely!' greeted Draco, spreading his arms wide in welcome as he stood.

'Get lost, Malfoy.'

'But, Alexis, I just finished my game of chess with Blaise! Perhaps you'd like to - ?'

'I don't play chess, Malfoy, now bugger off.'

'Actually, I wasn't going to ask if you wanted to play,' he responded instantly.

'Oh?' Alexis faked interest as she went to a tapestry in the far corner. She muttered something under her breath to it and the sour-faced man in the embroidered fabric nodded, and walked out of the edge of the image.

'No, I was going to ask if you'd like to go on a date with me.'

'I think we both know the answer is - as always - go fuck yourself, Malfoy.' The witch smiled sweetly, just as the tapestry's main character returned and pointed to the right. Alexis thanked him, and went to the cabinet which had previously been empty. Muttering 'Alohomora,' she opened it and withdrew four glasses and a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey.

But Malfoy wasn't giving up. He swaggered over to her. 'But baby,' he said, smoothly, 'that'd just be no fun! Not without you there, anyway.'

'Listen, you're sick and much too young for me, Malfoy. Go run back to your little cronies.'

'What d'you mean, young? You dated Blaise two years ago, and Zacharias Smith, also in my year.'

'Yeah, but I was talking about mental age. Now c'mon you lot, let's leave him to cry on his friend's shoulder. And I think we all need some of this.' (Waving the sloshing bottle of alcohol.)

And without further ado, she led her three friends up to the dorms.

Five minutes later: 'I'm going to bed,' muttered Malfoy, throwing his already battered brand new chess set into the fire and storming away from his friend, who sighed, finished packing up his own pieces, and followed.

The Common Room was bustling as usual. The red hangings and jolly fire gave it a strange kind of warmth, and the happy chatter did help with the friendly atmosphere. It was one of the few places where Harry Potter could just walk through without instilling silence in his wake.

Katie smiled as her teammate passed by on his way to the dorms. Fred and George came back from where they had just pinned an advertisement for something concerning the Joke Shop they wanted to open.

'Alright, Katie?' Fred asked, as his dropped onto a sofa beside Angelina Johnson.

'Yeah, how was your holiday?' George added, folding up his long legs as he sat down on the floor between the Quidditch Captain and the addressed witch's seats.

'Good thanks, guys. And you?'

They shrugged in unison.

'So what's that notice all about?' she asked the two seventh years, quizzically.

'Ah - may we introduce to you - '

' - The beginnings of some of our greater inventions.'

'Shall we read it to you?'

Most people would get confused by the twins' habit of finishing one another's sentences, or acting as if they were one and the same person. But Katie had known the pair since her first day (when they'd run into her compartment on the train with Lee Jordan close behind and sang "God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs" in perfect harmony) and this helped a great deal. She was accustomed to their quirks.

'Since you put it like that.' She nodded, smiling almost as broadly as the pair.

George cleared his throat.

'Gallons of Galleons!' announced Fred, in a sing-song voice.

George jumped up and pretended to slick back his ginger hair, before pointing at Katie and raising an eyebrow. 'Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?'

'Like to earn a little extra gold?' Fred rubbed his thumb and forefinger together to Angelina.

Then, together: 'Contact Fred - ' Fred pointed to George, 'and George - ' George pointed to Fred, 'Weasley - ' they both switched the way they were pointing, linking arms in the process.

'Gryffindor Common Room...'

'...For simple...'

'...Part-time...'

'...Virtually painless jobs!'

Then Fred leaned in and put one hand to the side of his mouth, and whispered with wide eyes, 'We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk.' They then burst into song while dancing together (it sounded somewhat like a livened-up version of an old Celestina Warbeck song).

When finished, the twins lined up together and bowed. Angelina and Katie clapped, with a few who had been watching from the back of the room joining in.

'So, what d'you think?' George asked, as they resumed their previous seating arrangement.

'It sounds great, but I'm afraid I'm a little busy for that kind of work,' winked Katie.

Angelina opened her mouth to answer the question, too, but another noise distracted her.

'He's having a go at my mother!'

The four sixth and seventh years looked at each other, concern in each of their faces. There was a brief pause, and then:

'That's before she started believing every word the stinking Daily Prophet writes about me!'

'Harry,' muttered Fred. He looked at the staircase up to the boys' dormitories.

'That means Ron'll be involved, too,' nodded George. The twins exchanged a long glance, before they both seemed to come to a silent agreement. 'You're right,' sighed George.

'Better not to get involved,' concurred Fred.

'What's going on?' asked Katie.

Angelina sighed. 'Harry's arguing. With Seamus, I suppose?'

'From that accent, I'd say so,' Fred said.

'Well, they're arguing because Seamus' mum reads - and believes, evidently - the Daily Prophet. And you know the kind of dung it's been writing about Harry over the summer. And Seamus is obviously just...explaining this situation to Harry.'

'Not very tactfully,' added George.

Katie nodded, understanding now.

'D'you think they'll - y'know - sort it out?'

The three seventh years sitting around her shrugged.

'Maybe, maybe not. '

'D'you think it was a joke?' breathed Callum.

'Don't be thick - Trelawney isn't exactly a skilled actress.'

The Slytherin nodded grimly, and swigged from his glass.

'She looked like she'd been...hexed,' Simon contributed.

Alexis looked at him. It was a significant glance.

'No,' she said, so quietly her companions only just caught it. 'No, she wasn't...hexed. Maybe she was just - just possessed?'

Simon shook his head slowly. 'Not if she wasn't - hexed.'

There was a silence. Alexis finished her glass and leaned her head back against the wall, eyes closed.