A/N: Sorry about the terribly late update, we had troubles with the electricity, and when I got my laptop back, I kind of wanted to re-acquaint with it... After that, of course, it was Easter and my Mom's birthday, and I also had to rush a chapter for my mermaid/centaur love story Of Earth and Water, available in a fanfic near you. But anyway, sorry if this chapter seems a little rushed, my brain's running on fumes at the moment...

The funeral was depressing, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for Jordan's family. They blamed Hogwarts for his death, saying how if it wasn't for that damned letter, Jordan would never have gone to that school and none of this would have happened. It was an awkward experience for the other first years, I think because we all blame ourselves one way or another, especially the other Muggle-borns, who all obviously were wondering whether they should have been in Jordan's place or not, but then we'd remember that things wouldn't have been any different, there'd still be relatives in mourning, and there would still be one less student. That and also our Slytherin spirit wouldn't have allowed us to give our lives anyway, especially if no good would have come of it.

After the incident, it sank in that not even Slytherins will be spared. If you are Muggle-born, you're doomed no matter the house.

"Mr. Potter," a voice calls, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Yes, professor?" I ask, turning my gaze from the window to Professor McGonagall- ex-headmistress, and deputy headmistress for many years before hand, she decided to take things easy a few years ago and left her job as headmistress, deciding to focus on teaching the students instead, and handed Penelope Clearwater the job instead, confident in the woman's abilities and ambition. Now she just focuses on her Transfiguration lessons.

"Since you seem so deep in thought, Mr. Potter, perhaps you could tell me why first years are discouraged from transfiguring inanimate objects into live animals?" I stare blankly at her, knowing she most probably mentioned it earlier.

"I-I don't know, professor," I mutter, looking anywhere but at the many gazes of my classmates.

"First years do not transfigure objects to living animals because all manner of things could go wrong, such as permanent part transformations. I mentioned this moments ago, which you would have heard had you been listening, Mr. Potter," McGonagall says disapprovingly, and I feel my face turning red with my embarrassment.

"Sorry, professor, it's just that..." I trail off, hearing some sniggering in the background, most probably from the Gryffindors.

"You just what?" she snaps, I wince.

"I, er, was just thinking about the attacks..." I finish, keeping my eyes downcast. Finally, when I look up, I find strangely sympathetic eyes looking down at me.

"For all my years teaching here," McGonagall says to the class at whole, who have all fallen silent upon hearing my confession, "I had always thought Hogwarts safe from the dangers of our world. However, while Harry Potter attended this school, everything changed. Secret chambers of untold horrors were opened, with the threat of killing all Muggle-borns in the school, even though we pride ourselves with teaching against such discrimination. Then there were teachers who were harming our students, teachers who tried to help You-Know-Who, teachers who were Death Eaters in disguise. So now, we do not think of Hogwarts as impenetrable, however, I assure you all, it may be possible to get into Hogwarts undetected, but you will have to be an extremely powerful wizard to do so. Whoever is doing this will be caught. All the previous ones who tried to harm Hogwarts' students all suffered greatly, punished with Azkaban or even death, so I assure you, if a practically Muggle-born first year could discover which teacher was corrupted and fight him, or if a second year could fight against a fully grown basilisk and fight off You-Know-Who not once but twice, I assure you, if worse comes to worse, a team of Aurors will be more than sufficient. But enough of this talk, you are here to learn, and you do not need to waste thought on such things. I assure you, you are as safe here as anywhere else, safer, even! Now, Miss. Borne, reach the text on the top of page 332 for us, would you please?"

And so the lesson went on, it was actually rather dull. We tried to transfigure a peanut into a button, but mine just ended up looking like some button shaped peanut...

"Well, that was rather dull," Scorpius says as we sit down for a much needed lunch. I hum in agreement.

"How did your buttons go?" Rus asks hesitantly. Me and Scorpius look at each other before reaching into our robe pockets, pulling out a handful of our 'buttons.' Well, mine were all 'buttons,' either button shaped peanuts or plastic peanuts, to be precise, but Scorpius' were all perfect and black. I stare at them, my question obviously evident on my face, for Scorpius merely raises an eyebrow and smirks.

"Guess it's just a natural talent," he explains with a shrug. I narrow my eyes.

"Riiight, anyway, Rus? What about your buttons?" I ask, and immediately, Rus blushes before pulling a handful out of his pocket. In his hand, shining in the light of the candles which light up the Great Hall lie a dozen gold buttons in the shape of leaves. Some of them are just big golden button, or black leaves, which I guess are the earlier attempts, but the later attempts are true works of art. Both me and Scorpius stare in shock and envy.

"How?!" Scorpius finally blurts out, Rus just blushes deeper.

"I guess it's just a natural talent," Rus says quietly, making me laugh out loud at the quote from Scorpius' earlier reply.

"Very funny, Crabbe, very funny," Scorpius says sulkily as he takes a bite out of his cheese and cucumber sandwich. Silence passes over us as we eat. In the end, I'm the one who breaks the silence.

"So... Who do you think is killing the Muggle-borns?" I ask, causing Rus to dart a look throughout the Great Hall, as if fearing the killer might jump out that very second, while Scorpius just scoffs.

"To be honest, I do not entirely care who's killing the Mudbloods. I'm Pure-blood, therefore I have nothing to fear as far as I am aware." Scorpius' comment causes me to give him my deadliest glare.

"I'll have you know, Malfoy, my aunt is a 'Mudblood,' and she's the smartest witch I know," I grind out, causing Scorpius to frown. More silence follows, only to be broken, surprisingly enough, by Rus this time a few minutes in.

"Well, I don't know who it is, but I think he must be pretty powerful, McGonagall said so herself, after all," Rus reasons, I nod my head slowly.

"Let's cut the list down a little. So, I don't think it might be Voldemort"- Rus and Scorpius both flinch at the name, I roll my eyes- "He seemed to think it through more, I mean, look at the Chamber of Secrets, and what happened with Professor Quirrel in dad's first year, it's either that or killed them head on. That and also, he would never hide himself, he would take pride in his kills and would want everyone to know he's come back from the dead. So this can't be him... It might be some loyal Death Eater, though, so that we can't rule out, but the big question right now is not who or why, but why now? Why not last year, or next year, why not ten years ago? Why-" Before I can finish, Scorpius interrupts me.

"Yes, because if you ask me killing them earlier would have pushed the message into the headmistress' head sooner, so whoever it is is either a plotter, who took the time to perfect his plans, was too young back then, which might make sense, or he only had half the heart to get the job done and had only just started talking himself into getting the job started. With all that combined, it really could be anyone..." Scorpius finishes with a very un-Malfoy like huff. Just then, lunch ends, and we stand to get to our next class, putting our conversation to a halt.

That night, yet again, all the Slytherins met in the common room, as we all have done for every night each week.

"I don't think the school's going to do anything about it, personally," one fifth year says, challenging the room with her gaze. "After all, it doesn't seem like much is going to be done right now..."

"But think about how things were in Harry Potter's time! The bad guys were all caught and justice was served!"

"That was back then, this is now. Dumbledore was alive back then and served as headmaster, now though? I don't think Clearwater would be able to anything, especially if it's against the law or school rules, while Dumbledore would have done anything for his precious school." By the time the girl had finished, we were all thinking hard.

"I don't think Clearwater would leave this school defenseless either," I say slowly, drawing attention to myself for the first time. "I think she's just a little shocked with this turn of events, after all, she must have thought that there'd be no more need to fear deaths or murders, after all, who would have thought anyone else would want to kill children? I think, with that in mind, it's either a really sick person behind these killings, or someone as young as us..." Nervous eyes shift around the room, as if hoping to catch the killer. That idea came to my mind a couple of hours ago, that no sane adult with a heart would have killed an eleven year old, so that left either a crazy (but genius) person, a heartless person who sees kids as animals or something equally low, or even more so, or they are a child themselves, which means that whoever the killer is might be inside the castle itself, which might explain the potion incident.

"But... what about Nova's letter?" one boy asks, I turn to look in his general direction.

"We can send letters throughout the castle, can't we? Use our own owls, and we have free rein," there are murmurs of agreement throughout the common room, before Penance cuts in finally.

"It's getting late now, I think we should all leave to our dormitories, and remember, don't go out alone at night, even if you're not a Muggle-born, be careful, and goodnight."