Kara woke with a start. Her off-white curls plastered to her forehead as she tried to calm herself. It was just another dream, she said to herself as she looked over at the alarm clock. It was still early morning so she had time to get down to the Hall and have breakfast. She showered, rinsing herself of that sticky cold sweat which had dappled her skin after the dream.

Dressing herself in a pair of dark-wash jeans and a black turtle-neck shirt, she pulled her hair back into that messy curly lot on the back of her head. Slipping on her shoes, she grabbed her bag and walked quietly down the staircase to the common room.

The fire was still burning as bright and as hot as her cheeks had the night before. She laughed to herself, still feeling a bit cheery about having met so many nice people already. Too bad, she thought, that things will get worse before they get better.

Shrugging off such bad thoughts, she reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around. Most everyone was still sleep so she had to be quiet.

"He's already downstairs," cooed one of the paintings that hung upon the wall. Kara smiled and leaned her head to the side in confusion, "Pardon me, but what do you mean?"

The painting's occupant, a man dressed in a rich French-man's attire, simply smiled and replied with, "The boy you were with last night. Everyone is talking about it, at least those that had a good view."

Again, the heat of a blush rose up on her cheeks and Kara looked around in embarrassment. "Is it really that noticeable?"

"That you fancy him? Of course, my dear child. What's more obvious is that you're slightly demented."

"What ever gave you that idea?"

The man in the picture laughed and proceeded to explain. "Its obvious that you are the manic type due to the fact that it's very early morning on a Saturday and you're already up and ready for the day. Also, you are conversing with a picture that rarely says anything." He narrowed his eyes much like a grandfather would if he were telling a secret, "They would never believe that I spoke to you."

Kara laughed again and nodded her head, "Yes well." She was lost for words given her own romantic interest had just been laid out on the table. "Promise me something, sir."

The man cocked his eyebrow, seeming interested.

"Don't say anything just yet. It's embarrassing enough that I'm brand-new here and already fancied a crush of sorts on Neville."

She looked up at the painting and it had frozen once again into place.

"Who are you talking to, Kara?" A voice from behind Kara made her jump in surprise. Spinning around, she spied Ron standing at the bottom of the stairs that led to the boy's rooms.

His hair was a mess and his clothes hung loosely on his someone full figured frame. She smiled; surprised that she hadn't formed a crush on this boy. He was very handsome to say the least, right down to the freckles that dappled his cheeks.

She shrugged in response to his inquiry and sat down quietly on one of the chair that rested before the blazing fire. "I was just talking to myself, that's all. Ron is it?"

He simply nodded his head and ran his fingers through his hair, sitting down on the couch and propping one leg up, resting his arm on the knee. "So, Kara, I hear you transferred from Norway?" He smiled lightly, staring into the flickering of the fire and not at her. She could feel a sense of unease between them, but said nothing.

"Yes, after my mother's death. You see, she was a …uhm…a muggle. Yes that's right. My mother-"

Ron nodded in agreement as he listened. He already knew about her past. Sometimes it paid to have a father in the Ministry. She was feeding him lies, partial lies, but lies none the less; he said nothing.

"-and after word of my father's death, my cousin has decided to keep me."

Ron let out a soft snicker as she made it sound like she were a pet rabbit or a dog of sorts. "Kara, can I ask you something?"

Startled to say the very least, she nodded.

"Do you enjoy telling people what they want to hear? Or do you just tell them what would keep you out of trouble?"

Kara stood up, completely caught off by his questions. "That is a terribly rude thing to ask, Ron." Her cheeks flushed with rage as she stomped her foot. "I demand an apology."

Ron laughed, pulling out his wand from the shirt pocket of his night clothes. Flicking it, he stood up and took a step towards her, breathing soft words with every step.

"And now…I have another question." He pushed her into the corner against the hearth of the fireplace. "I hear you fancy someone in the House." He reached up and ran the tip of his wand against the soft part of her cheek, pressing it into the skin.

Kara couldn't move, she couldn't breathe as she closed her eyes. She perceived him moving and then a strange warm heat on her lips. Opening her eyes she realized what it was.

He was kissing her.

She pushed him back and screamed, but Ron merely laughed. "Oh, come now. I know it's got to be me that you fancy."

Kara shook her head and grabbed up her bag, running to the door that led out into the school.

Ron took quick strides and as he reached her, he grabbed her arm tightly. Swinging around, Kara took a blind swing and made contact with what she hoped was his face. As Ron released his grip, she darted out of the common room and down the stairs.

Quietly, Ron sat down. The pillows of the couch beneath him soothed him. His hand was placed over his left eye, concealing a bruise that was forming considerably fast.

"You do know that it isn't you, yes?"

Ron turned to face the painting from which a man had spoken. "What?" He asked quietly, moving his hand from his eye.

"It isn't you she fancies." The man smiled and nodded his head slowly, "You've gone and made yourself an enemy when in fact all you had to do was ask." Standing up, the man faded away from his picture and into another before leaving the room entirely. Off to visit old friends in the school halls perhaps.

Ron sat quietly now, his eyes on the floor as his head hung low. Finally, he picked up his wand that he had dropped and walked back up the stairs to the dorm to tend to his newly blackened eye.

Quietly, Kara made her way down the stairs to the Great Hall where sat the boy she had dreamed of. It was a horrible dream, she thought.

Fire consumed the school in a heated rush of pain and screams. There Neville stood as the inferno closed in around him. She had screamed for him to run away, but he stood fast. She watched in horror, reaching towards him as the flames licked at his handsome face and burned away the beautiful oak-wood lock from his head. Just as her hand grasped his shirt, he fell into a pile of dust on the ground.

She shook her head, dismissing the memory and concentrated more on calming herself after such an incident that had occurred in the common room with Ron.

Tugging at her robe sleeves, she wiped absently at a tear that rolled down her cheek. She was alright, she thought. Nothing had happened. It was just a kiss. He was confused. There were a million excuses that she thought of, but she finally settled on one. He liked her and she was afraid.

"So dies the rose, which lies dying not a rose. So dies the heart, which lies dying along side yours." She smiled at the saying as it popped into her head. She was groggy and felt ill by the time she reached the Great Hall.

There he is…