AN: Hello, all. Here's a new chapter for the story I almost forgot I had up! ;P Sorry if you were waiting.

Marie was in a broody mood as she left the courtroom. While she had curb-stomped all over the charges and finally put that wimpy weiner in his place, that didn't change the fact that someone in the ministry was so messed up, they had sent soul-sucking demons after a kid that technically shouldn't have been able to protect themselves. It left a foul taste on her tongue and she couldn't wait to get away from such a disgusting matter.

Of course, thoughts of government corruption could only summon the most revolting piece of inhumanity into her sights. There, standing there as if he had every right to spit on everything the ministry should have stood for, Lucius Malfoy was standing in the hallway with Fudge, his nonchalance proving how everyday his putrescent presence was in that setting.

Lucius Malfoy was someone Marie could cheerfully stab in the face. Multiple times. With a fork. The man was as oily as Eloise Midgen's forehead and as shady as the underside of a Dementor's skirt. Not ten paces away from door of the courtroom, he was pumping Fudge for all the information the pudgy berk was worth. As soon as he caught sight of Marie being escorted by Mr. Weasley, he broke off mid-conversation just to look down his pointy nose at them.

"The Minister was just telling me about your lucky escape, Potter," drawled Malfoy. "Quite astonishing, the way you continue to wriggle out of very tight holes. . . Snakelike, in fact. . ."

Ew. If that wasn't an innuendo of some sort, Marie was a side of beef. He looked at her with those frigid gray eyes and it was all she could do to stop from shuddering in disgust. He was slimier than a newborn toad covered in after-birth.

She had last seen those eyes through slits in a Death Eater's hood, and last heard that man's voice jeering in that wretched graveyard while Lord Voldemort tortured her. She couldn't believe that Lucius Malfoy dared look her in the face when she had saw him grovel like a stray begging for scraps at the feet of that repulsive abhorrence he called a master.

"What are you doing here," asked Marie, brushing aside his remark. She granted him the same look she had given his son after Hermione had broken his nose third year.

"I don't think private matters between myself and the Minister are any concern of yours, Potter," said Malfoy, smoothing the front of his robes; Marie distinctly heard the gentle clinking of what sounded like a full pocket of gold. Tacky bastard. "Really, just because you are Dumbledore's golden girl, you must not expect the same indulgence from the rest of us. . . Shall we go up to your office, then, Minister?"

"'Private,' yes," Marie said before the pair had the chance to walk away. "I'm not sure if the 'private matters' you two get up to should be dealt with anywhere in this building, let alone in the Minister's office. It's a place of running the matters of the public after all; 'private' affairs should be handled in one's own home. Unless you're into that sort of thing, of course."

That had gone over as well as one could have expected, and Mr. Weasley ushered her away before Malfoy could pull himself out of his appalled stupor after being struck insensible at her implications. She didn't care; she hoped someone had heard her say what she did and look more closely at what was obviously a disgusting — even if it wasn't physical — affair.

The rest of Marie's summer was spent mixed between the continuing war against dirt, and getting used to living in a place with so many people. While not clearing out dusty cabinets, Marie took to nosing her way through the unoccupied rooms, and she couldn't walk into any area of the house without bumping into someone. Such a thing wouldn't have been a problem if it hadn't been for the fact that Marie was still on chilly terms with Hermione.

Oh, they weren't cat-fighting in the hallways or anything, nor were they avoiding each other either, but their was a polite distance between them that neither had tried to reach out past. Marie wasn't certain but she thought the reason the other girl was upset with her was because Marie was still upset with her. Circular reasoning was a pain.

Truth be told, Marie had already forgiven both Hermione and Ron for blowing her off at the beginning of summer, her friendship with Sally-Anne and her ascent into Youtube stardom more than making up for the neglect. What was bothering her was that Hermione refused to acknowledge that she had been in the wrong. She didn't have to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness or do something extravagant to atone, all Marie wanted was for Hermione to acknowledge she had let Marie down and for a bogus reason. Surely that wasn't asking a lot? She herself had already apologized for shouting at them that first night.

In between drifting through Grimmauld Place and not avoiding Hermione, Marie hung out with Sirius and chatted with Sally-Anne on the mirror-phone. She had introduced the two when the strawberry-blonde called while Marie was telling him about the TV show Merlin and what fanfiction was.

"Who's the slam piece?" asked Sally-Anne when she caught sight of Sirius in the background.

"The what?"

"The eye-candy next to you, Marie! Where have you been hiding that bangin' bae?"

"I'm going to assume you're talking about Sirius and pretend I understood even half of what you were just saying," Marie sighed. She turned to Sirius and waved the communication device. "This is my friend, Sally-Anne Perks. She lives near Privet Drive and used to go to Hogwarts too."

"Hello?" said Sirius, smiling uncertainly though he did look amused.

"Helloooo," cooed Sally-Anne, batting her eyelashes. She then shot Marie an irritated look. "It's so unfair that the neanderthals at school are the best I can get right now while you're chilling with guys that blow my list out of the water."

"What are you on about?"

"My would-do list, of course! Blue-eyes over there gets a solid ten out of ten, totally would do." Marie was speechless at such a statement. Sally-Anne flipped her hair and pouted out at them. "Hey, baby, I'll be legal in two years; stay single until then, 'kay?"

"ANNIE!" Marie yelped, finally catching up. She flushed red, a complexion that was mirrored by Sirius. "Don't hit on him, he's my godfather!" She made an apologetic face at Sirius and explained rapidly. "I'm so sorry, Sirius, she says stuff like this 'cause she thinks it's funny, she's not as skanky as she pretends to be, really!"

"Skanky!" Sally-Anne squawked. "I'm not skanky, you harpy, I'm just comfortable with my sexuality!"

"Oh, gods, just stop talking!"

Sirius covered his eyes with a hand and trembled. Marie was afraid he was shaking from outrage when he suddenly burst out laughing, almost falling from his seat with his merriment. He looked up at Marie's relieved face and grinned. "I'll admit that this isn't the first time I've been propositioned but it certainly is the most direct one I've ever had. Not one for subtleties, are we?"

Thankfully, Sally-Anne reigned herself in after that, falling into Sirius and Marie's previous conversation about Merthur. Suffice to say Sirius was baffled by the concept of shipping, especially shipping Merlin with anyone, and Sally-Anne delighted in explaining the appeal of putting two guys you find attractive together. Turned out Sirius could get down with slash pairings but was caught up on anyone wanting to date Merlin. Marie left that conversation knowing far more about Sirius' kinks than she ever wanted to.

Most of the conversations Marie had with Sally-Anne were more of the same, the girl would make innuendos about Sirius, they'd talk about whatever came to mind, and they'd lament to each other their problems. Sally-Anne was always whiny when she talked about how she had to become the intermediate between Marie and the rest of Knuckle Bones now that she was away where the others couldn't get a hold of her themselves.

Marie was in her room for the night when the topic came up again.

"They still want you to do a vlog and I can't explain to them that you can't upload anything because magic and tech don't mix well. I ordered a Seeing-Eye strip-to-video converter but—"

"A what?"

"Honestly, Marie! Have you not touched anything I've given you? The Seeing-Eye is the camera thing!"

"Calm your tits, woman. How was I supposed to know what it's called? It didn't exactly come in a box, did it?"

"It's written on the bottom in bold text! You would think you'd notice someone written on the bottom of a giant, flying eyeball."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You were saying?"

Sally-Anne huffed at her but explained that she had sent out for another incomprehensible gadget that made whatever recorded on Marie's flying eyeball able to be uploaded onto the computer. "Turns it into a mp4 file," she had said, whatever the hell that was.

So Marie was obligated to film herself practicing songs, doing dance covers, talking about her day, or whatever else she could think up. She hadn't understood the point of doing so and would have refused if it hadn't been for Sally-Anne pulling up a list of people that requested her to do so.

"The vid Jon-Jon made with you you in it has been blowing up—"

"What video? I don't remember making a video with Jon-Jon."

"He filmed your part while you weren't looking—"

"WHAT? That complete arse!" Jon-Jon was the lead singer and a total asshat. Not to say he wasn't a fun guy to hang out with, but he thrived off of popularity and was a total clown. He was dating Sally-Anne's friend, Alice, and had been the one to rope Marie into giving being in a band a whirl.

"Yes, yes, Jon's a douche-canoe. The point is: the video's super popular; the fan's love their precious Malice VI when she's not punching you in the face with badassity."

"Oh, screw you." Marie had agreed to take a stage-name when they told her it was tradition, but being the sixth female vocalist to use the name Malice was ridiculous. Their following was all for it though; they ate up the taciturn skatergirl persona the guys had crafted for her after Alex caught footage of her kicking some grabby guy's arse and posted it as a sneak peek to their newest member.

Sally-Anne shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "They like feeling like they really know who you guys are as people; Alex's vlogs gets thousands of hits just in the first half of the day and he doesn't even do anything with with music, he talks about books he's read and asks for recommendations. They're screaming for more from you."

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it, I just don't get the appeal." Marie rolled on her bed so she was laying on her front, clutching a pillow to her chest. She kicked her legs idly. "I thought you said they were all for the 'punch-you-in-the-face punk' thing; I doubt whatever Jon-Jon got on camera added on to that."

"They're taking it as you just put up a tough front in front of people but are a lot sweeter in private. Marriage requests have been written in the comments and they've been going on how how cool you are backstage. Do it for the views. The views, Marie!"

"Alright, alright! I'll do it! Jeez, you'd think you'd be less enthusiastic about this considering you're the one that'll have to do the editing and uploading."

"Please, that's half the fun, and you know I'm getting paid. If you amass a big enough fanbase, me and the boys backstage can cash in on merch."

"Pffft." Marie rolled her at the thought. "If you can manage such a thing, more power to you. I really doubt a new member that'll likely be replaced without much effort — just like the rest before me — will draw in a crowd. Malice V was tossed out like yesterday's rubbish."

"Yeah, but she was a total bitch that no one liked anyway. Alice was telling me that she didn't get on with the audience at all when they were doing gigs. The others left on their own more than anything else, Liliana was plain kicked out."

The conversation tapered off from there, both girls too sleepy to do much else. Since then, Marie had been filming herself every once in a while to get used to video-blogging. Her trouble with it at first was she didn't know how to act, but she eventually started treating it like a journal and just started filming whenever it felt right, she often let it drift after her as she floated around the house, drawing confused looks from the other inhabitants. There was a lot of her breaking out into dance the second someone looked away from her, but she sometimes told stories about Hogwarts and her friends as well — with the magic and danger removed of course.

The day they were to board the train was every bit of a fiasco as it was every year. All the kids seemed to have woken up late and everyone was rushing about, trying to make the most of the little time they had left.

Ginny had come pounding at Marie's door, calling out for Marie to wake up just as she was almost mowed down by a flying trunk, only to be saved from falling down the stairs by Marie opening the door suddenly and Ginny falling in. To accentuate how close to injury she had been, her hair was whipped to the side as the trunk whizzed past her head.

Mrs. Weasley was on the culprits immediately, tearing into Fred and George like they were wet paper.

"— COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS —"

Her rancor was drowned out by the portrait of the late Lady Black coming to life at the noise. Marie didn't stick around in the hallway while the two matriarch shrieked it out, dragging her the trunk she had packed the night before to the bottom of the stairs as soon as she could throw on a set of clothes.

She made it to the kitchen in time to hear Mrs. Weasley bellow, "WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!"

Not a full minute after, Hermione bustled in, hair mussed and Hedwig on her shoulder. Marie had let the other girl borrow Hedwig when the school letters came and Hermione had been made prefect. She was so excited, she forgot she was unhappy with Marie and had asked to use Hedwig to send her parents the good news.

Marie accepted Hedwig back with a faint smile and urged the bird back into her cage.

"I do wish this lot would hurry up," Hermione said, idly crossing her arms. She leaned against the door-frame, watching as the Weasleys scurried about. "Mad-Eye's complaining that we can't leave unless Sturgis Podmore's here, otherwise the guard will be one short."

"Guard?" said Marie, stroking Hedwig through the cage. "Are you serious? We have to go to King's Cross with a guard?"

"You have to go to King's Cross with a guard," Hermione corrected.

"Why?" asked Marie irritably. "I thought Voldemort was supposed to be lying low, or are you telling me he's going to jump out from behind a dustbin and do me in?"

"I don't know, it's just what Mad-Eye says," said Hermione distractedly, looking at her watch. "But if we don't leave soon we're definitely going to miss the train. . ."

"Alright, let's get going!" Mrs. Weasley called. The two girls made their way out into the hall where the others now stood. "Marie, you're to come with me and Tonks. Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor's going to deal with the luggage. . . Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!"

A large bear-like dog cuddled up to Marie's side as she climbed over the various trunks strewn about the hallway to get to Mrs. Weasley. It ignored the red-headed woman as it preened under Marie's petting.

"Oh, honestly. . ." said Mrs. Weasley despairingly, "well, on your own head be it!"

They met Tonks as they left Grimmauld place, the older girl in the form of a withered old woman. Mrs. Weasley despaired the walk to the train station as they were very tight on time but the great black dog gave a joyful bark and gamboled around them, snapping at pigeons, and chasing its own tail. Marie couldn't help laughing. Sirius had been trapped inside for a very long time and it was nice to see him get to enjoy himself.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips in an almost Aunt Petunia-ish way.

It took them twenty minutes to reach King's Cross by foot and nothing more eventful happened during that time other than Sirius scaring a couple of cats for Marie's entertainment. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through onto platform nine and three quarters. They made it just in time to get on before the whistled blew it's last call.

There was a bit of figuring once on the train when Ron and Hermione had to attend to their prefect duties, but Marie just shrugged it off and followed along with Ginny to find a compartment. Marie noticed while peering through the windows for a place to sit that many people looked hesitant at seeing her. She absently wondered if that instead of dismissing the nonsense the Prophet was spewing, they were buying into it.

Friggin' sheeple. Didn't they learn before to not to buy into rumors about her?

In the very last carriage they met Neville Longbottom, Marie's fellow fifth-year Gryffindor, his face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor. Summer break had done him some good, he had shot up at least half a foot and was looking very presentable; all that work with plants finally showed through.

"Hello, Neville," said Marie with a smile. She reached out at gently took Trevor from his awkward hold. The boy looked embarrassed but grateful especially since Trevor calmed down as she stroked his back and cooed.

"Hi, Marie," he panted. "Hi, Ginny. . . Everywhere's full. . . I can't find a seat. . ."

"What are you talking about?" said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. "There's room in this one, there's only Luna Lovegood in here —"

Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.

"Don't be silly," said Ginny, laughing, "She's all right."

She slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside it. Marie and Neville followed, Marie more willingly than Neville.

"Hi, Luna," said Ginny. "Is it okay if we take these seats?"

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Marie knew at once why Neville, the easily flustered boy, had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Marie. She nodded.

"Thanks," said Ginny, smiling at her.

They made awkward introductions in which Luna clearly didn't give two shits about how she was freaking out Neville with her unwavering gaze. She didn't seem to need to blink as much as other humans. Marie would have called Luna a fangirl if it wasn't for the fact that despite greeting Marie's presence like it was an unprecedented occasion, she didn't go starry-eyed or hero-worshipy. It was a relief to say the least.

"Did you have a good summer then, Neville?" asked Marie, putting her back against the compartment wall so she could draw her legs up. She placed the complacent Trevor on a knee as she looked to Neville.

"Ah!" Neville jolted, apparently startled at being addressed. He flushed. "Yeah, I did. It was pretty relaxed. Not much to do after homework. My Great-Uncle Algie got me some interesting plants for my birthday though." He fidgeted a bit. "How was yours?"

"I guess I could call it pretty relaxed as well," Marie replied blithely.

Ginny snorted. "Right, I'm sure being chased down by Dementors and being called in for a hearing is everyone's definition of relaxing."

"Gin-ny!" Marie said, making a face at the red-head.

"D-d-dementors? A hearing?" Neville stuttered, shocked. "What happened?"

Marie rolled her eyes a bit in exasperation. "Rouge Dementors ended up in the neighborhood and almost Kissed my cousin before I could get them with a Patronus. Then there was this utter nonsense at the Ministry where they tried to figure out if they could pin me down with an expulsion even though I was completely within my rights to defend myself and I actually haven't violated the Underage Magic Law before. It was all complete bullshit. I'm sure many in the jury were confused as hell as to why they were sitting for a case of underage magic."

"That was you?" Neville exclaimed, leaning forward in his seat. "Gran got called in to be jury at a hearing this summer and she came home saying it was the most pointless thing she ever attended. I figured it was for a person that was so obviously guilty, having a trial was unnecessary. Why would they call in the entire Wizengamot for underage magic?"

"Trying to discredit her," said Ginny, crossing her arms. "The Minister's upset Marie's sticking with what she said, so now they're trying everything they can to make her out to be a crazy liar."

"Y-yeah, I read some of those articles. Not very nice."

"It's part of the conspiracy," a dreamy voice chimed in. Marie looked up to see Luna peering at the from over her upside-down magazine. "Minister Fudge hopes to overthrow Gringotts and turn the goblin into pies. He sinks his claws into the system by disposing of vault-owners through arduous legal maneuvering, eventually taking control of their gold so he can take away the goblin's means of business."

Marie wasn't sure how to respond to such a statement. Certainly she had heard Fudge called many a derogatory thing, but a goblin-pastry chef was a new one.

"I-I guess is good that Marie didn't fall into his trap then," Neville replied, apparently trying to respond as if the words coming out of the girl's mouth wasn't the most outrageous thing he'd ever heard.

"Oh, I doubt he ever had a chance of getting to her now that she's back in the atmosphere with drops of Jupiter in her hair."

Marie straightened and gaped at the blonde girl. Did she just. . . ? While Ginny and Neville looked further baffled, Marie took in Luna with a more considering expression. A smirk touched her lips.

"She acts like summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there's a time to change, yeah?"

Luna fully lowered her magazine and cocked her head to the side as Ginny threw Marie a perplexed look. "Marie, wha—?"

Luna's tone became a touch sing-songy. "Since her return from her stay on the moon, she listens like spring and she talks like June."

Marie was full out grinning now. "But tell me, did you sail across the sun? Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded—?"

"And that Heaven is overrated?"

They were just plain singing now.

"Tell me, did you fall from a shooting star—?"

"One without a permanent scar—?"

"And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?" They finished in unison and studied each other in wonder.

Marie broke the silence with a bright giggle. She jumped from her seat and flung herself next to Luna, throwing an arm around the other girl. "That settles it! We are so going to be best friends!"

"How wonderful," Luna replied, picking up her magazine again though she was still smiling at Marie. "I've never had a friend before, let alone a best one."

"What the hell?" Ginny broke in, looking baffled, and irritated that she was baffled. Neville just sat, looking back and forth between them. "Is this some secret code of something? I thought you two didn't know each other!"

"There are a few moments in life when you know you're one hundred percent certain you've found a person you can be best friends with," Marie said, looking solemnly at the other two. "The most certain way is when you meet a person and then burst into song together. It's a special moment, Ginny, right up there with your wedding day and the birth of your first child. This shit's the real deal."

Ginny and Neville resigned themselves to being confused whenever Marie and Luna were put together in an equation. It was obvious to them that Luna's eyes saw a different world than what they were looking at and Marie found it the most fun in the world to go along with her. Three minutes into the conversation, Luna had explained her opinions on political matters in such a way that Marie was ready to buy into the Rotfang Conspiracy theory just for the hell of it.

Marie couldn't hold back her guffaws when she got a hold of Luna's magazine. It turned out that the blonde girl was reading it upside-down because of the rune puzzle that required a bit of turning to figure out. After she explained it to Marie, Marie noticed the an article heading that questioned Sirius' guilt. Eager to read something that painted her godfather in a good light, she flipped to the page and busted out laughing when she read the headline:

SIRIUS — Black As He's Painted?

Notorious Mass Murderer OR Innocent Singing Sensation?

Marie had to read this sentence several times before she was convinced that she had not misunderstood it. Since when had Sirius been a singing sensation? The thought was laughable considering she had heard Sirius horribly mangle a song she had been blasting on repeat. The sound was like that of an angry boar being eaten by an angrier bear that was being sodomized by a dying duck.

"Oh, gods, Ginny! You gotta read this!"

The magazine was handed over and the red-head joined Marie in her fit of helpless giggles. The actual article did not lend them any sobriety either. Marie wanted to find this Doris Purkiss that Sirius supposedly romanced on a candle-lit dinner and shake her hand. She was going to shove that article in Sirius' face and never let him live it down. It was a piece of literary gold.

It got even better when Ron and Hermione found them after the prefect meeting two hours later. The four in the compartment had spread themselves out across the seating, making themselves comfortable as they chatted it out. Ginny was laying on her back on one side, chortling over a spell that turned a person's ears to kumquats while Marie and Luna were on the floor — Marie with Trevor now sleeping on her head — playing Down by the Banks of the Hanky Panky and coercing Neville to join them. The two stopped in the doorway and looked bewildered at what they were seeing.

"What's this then?" said Ron, swinging in Pigwideon's cage as Crookshanks flounced in.

Marie tossed him a Chocolate Frog from when the trolly lady had come by and grinned at him. "Don't tell me you've never played a clapping game! This is Luna, by the way, my sister from another mister. How was the meeting thing?"

It was Hermione who answered, nudging Ginny on the shoulder so she would make space. "A little disappointing admittedly." She smoothed down her skirt, as she nodded to Luna. "Pleased to meet you, Luna."

Luna nodded magnanimously as Ron grunted his greeting as well.

"What happened, then?" asked Marie as Ron bite off the head of his Frog with unnecessary force, and leaned back with his eyes closed as though he had had a very exhausting morning. "Something absolutely shoddy?"

"Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House," said Hermione, looking thoroughly disgruntled. "Boy and girl from each."

"And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" said Ron, still with his eyes closed, his lips twisting in distaste.

"Malfoy," replied Marie at once, not even having to think about it.

"'Course," said Ron bitterly, stuffing the rest of the Frog into his mouth and taking another.

"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione viciously. "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll. . ."

"What about the rest?" Marie asked.

"Hufflepuff's Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," said Ron thickly, voice muffled by the chocolate.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," finished Hermione.

"Oh, great," Marie groaned, slumping where she sat, her head landing Neville's shoulder. "The two instigators of Hufflepuff's hate-parade against me during both second and fourth year are in a position of power. Maybe I should just volunteer myself for detention as soon as I step into the school instead of waiting for someone to pin one on me."

Neville was flustered at Marie's proximity and her statement. "M-Macmillan and Abbott wouldn't really abuse their powers, would they? Professor Sprout wouldn't ch-chose them if they would."

"Yeah," Ginny chimed in. "Sprouts not going to allow one of the prefects to bully those they don't like; she'd sooner uproot the greenhouses."

Marie was still doubtful. "I suppose. . ."

"Anthony and Padma will make up for any injustice you might suffer," Luna said, tracing the cartoons on her mismatched socks. She hummed absently. "Padma respects you for not letting her sister lose her head completely while with Lavender Brown, and Anthony fancies you. He was walking on air after you agreed to go to the Ball with him."

Marie blushed and straightened. "No joke? I thought he wanted to go as friends!"

"Oh, no. Afterward, all he talked about for days was how pretty you were are. He even bought a picture of you from Colin Creevy."

Marie paled a bit. "I'm not sure if I'm flattered or creeped out."

"How do you know that anyway?" Ron asked, an incredulous look on his face.

"He talks loudly in the Common Room when the subject of Marie comes up. It's like he's been possessed by a flutterglimble."

"A what?" Hermione asked. She frowned. "I've never heard that word before."

Marie snatched up Luna's magazine from Ginny's slacked grip and flicked through it. "Is it in the bestiary?"

Ron picked up the magazine when Marie tossed it on the seat in disappointment. "Anything good in here?"

"Of course not," said Hermione scathingly, when she saw what they were tossing about. "The Quibbler prints nonsense. It's complete rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," said Luna, her voice suddenly not at all dreamy and even a bit harsh. "My father's the editor."

"I — oh," said Hermione, looking embarrassed. "Well. . . it's got some interesting. . . I mean, it's quite. . ."

"Way to put it in," Ginny snickered.

As Hermione flailed for something to say, Marie shuffled on her bum over to Luna and tossed her arms around the blonde. "She didn't mean anything by it, really. Hermione's just one that prefers cold, hard facts over speculation; The Quibbler's brand of journalism is a bit too. . . conjectured to suit her tastes."

Tension eased from Luna's shoulders and she nodded her head in acceptance. "I can respect that."

Just as Marie was about to say something in response, the compartment door opened for the third time. She rolled her eyes and didn't even have to look up to know who was there; the door was slid open in that noisy manner by only one bothersome person. She grabbed the magazine again and idly flicked through it, eventually landing on a crossword puzzle. She dug into her satchel for a quill and started filling out the boxes.

Ron glared at the trio standing imperiously at the door. "What?" he said aggressively before Malfoy could open his mouth.

Malfoy tilted his head back and stared haughtily down his nose at Ron. "Manners, Weasley," he drawled, same cadence of speaking as his father. The prat was such a tool. "It's amazing how an uncultured bottom-feeder like you made prefect but I guess the other options were little better. Longbottom here couldn't get a first year to look in his direction let alone listen to him."

Neville flushed in embarrassment and anger, and Ron puffed up as he always did when confronted with Malfoy in any situation. "Get out, you ferret-faced git!"

Malfoy made to answer back but Marie was too fast for him. Glancing over the page, she gave Ron a bemused look. "Who are you shouting at?"

Ron looked confused and waved his arm widely at the direction of the Slytherins as if pointing out something obvious. "What are you, blind?"

Marie's eyes glazed over and she looked through the three boys posturing there. "You're shouting at an open door?" She scoffed and looked away. "Brilliant. If you're done, could you help me think of a six letter word that means a nancy knob-head? It starts with M and ends in O-Y."

Ginny hid her guffaws in her brother's back. Hermione choked a bit and covered her face with her hands. "Ma-rieeeee!" she groaned.

"M. . . A. . . R — No, no, Hermione, there's no O in that! And from how long it took you to say it, it must have had at least four Es in it. Six letters, damn it all! The other hint is that it's French for 'unfaithful.'"

"Potter!" Malfoy snarled, attempting to rend the flesh from her bones with just his eyes. His goons cracked their knuckled menacingly but it had little affect on the crowd now convulsing in hilarity.

Marie looked up again and feigned curiosity. "Did someone say my name?"

"Don't try to be cute, Potter! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

And there was the heart of the matter: the blond ponce desperately wanted attention. Daddy-issues for sure. Hell if Marie would give him what he wanted though.

She hummed and flicked her eyes over her friends. "How odd; I must be hearing things. There's this strange buzzing in the background. Does anyone else hear buzzing?"

Surprisingly, it was Neville that caught on first. He grinned and nodded. "I hear it too. It kind of sounds like a horsefly from how loud it is. Maybe we should open a window?"

"It must have come in from the open door," said Hermione, a reluctant smirk on her lips. "If we leave it open long enough, it'll probably leave on it's own."

They continued in this vein for a few moments longer, talking over Malfoy when he tried to insult them into reacting. They 'filled out' more of the crossword puzzle; using the names of Malfoy's family as synonyms for things like manky mingebag and poxy pillock. It was when Marie pulled out her music-marble player and a deck of playing cards that he finally exploded, face tomato-red, teeth bared, pulling his wand from his sleeve.

"Excu—!"

"What's going here?" A stern voice rang out.

Malfoy froze where he stood as Crabbe and Goyle shuffled clumsily to the side to reveal the unimpressed Cedric Diggory. The older boy stood with his arms crossed and his expression dark.

"Diggory," Malfoy sneered, lowering his wand only the slightest bit, looking still intent on doing harm.

"Didn't I warn you lot not to abuse your positions not half an hour ago, Malfoy? Put away your wand this instant!"

"You think I'll take orders from you just because you're Head Boy?" Malfoy scoffed. "I don't think so. I'm a prefect, I'll do as I like."

Cedric's look hardened into an outright glare. "You'll do as I say this instant and maybe I won't have you stripped of your badge as soon as we get to school."

"You can't do that! Professor Snape chose me."

"You'd be surprised by what I can do. Put your wand away, get out, and return to your compartment immediately. You're being removed from the train patrols as of right now, and if I see you wandering the halls again, I'll have you in detention for the rest of the year!"

Malfoy glowered hatefully at Cedric but flounced from the compartment all the same, trolls in tow. Those within sat in silence as the door slammed behind the three and the sound of stomping tramped away from them.

Cedric shook his head and sighed. "I knew I'd have my work cut out for me this year, but having to deal with Malfoy on a regular basis is just a cruel and unusual punishment."

Marie snorted. "Welcome to the club of those he regularly bothers. We meet every Tuesday and have cool jackets. There's a three Sickle entrance free, of course."

The others chuckled and shifted to make room for Cedric to sit. The boy gratefully plopped down next to Hermione and ran a hand through his hair.

"I see now why you three always seem on the verge of killing him all the time," said Cedric, nodding in Marie and Ron general direction.

Marie hummed. "And how was your summer?" The honey-haired boy deflated a bit. Marie winced. "That bad, huh?

"At least it wasn't as bad as I'm sure yours was," Cedric shrugged.

Since waking from his head injury, he'd been skewered by the press with claims of brain damage and injury induced hallucinations to brush off Marie's claim of Voldemort's return. Admittedly, he didn't witness the ritual or any of the other terrible things that happened afterward, but he was one hundred percent certain he was almost hit with a Killing Curse, and considering Marie's experience with psychopaths trying to kill her, he was willing to take her word for it about the rest. His father had remained ultimately less harassed than Arthur Weasley was since he didn't publicly promote or disavow Cedric and Marie, but he was certainly more protective and paranoid than before, updating the house wards twice that summer.

"I doubt that," Marie said, starting to braid Luna's hair. "I actually didn't know we were being slammed until a few weeks ago. I spend the summer with my Muggle relatives and I didn't read the Prophet beyond the first page."

Cedric's eyes widened. "Lucky! We're really being spat on; my dad actually ripped the paper in half a few times when he read what they were printing. I wouldn't be surprised if my mum had to talk him out of going out and personally throttling some of those columnists."

"It's annoying but after that rubbish Skeeter was churning out about me last year, I'm so over it. They'll be singing a different tune soon enough."

Hermione made a sound of agreement. "They'll all come around. You Know Who isn't going to hide forever and when he reveals himself, they'll all come crawling back, singing your praises."

Cedric shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't understand how you're being so calm about this. You Know Who coming back shouldn't be assurance of any kind!"

"It's not assurance," Marie said. "It's the facts. He's out there, getting ready, but he's been out there since his body was destroyed fourteen years ago. He's even tried to come back a few times already, once in my first year and once that time with the petrifications—"

"What?!" Cedric and Neville gasped. Luna only looked vaguely surprised.

"Marie, no one else but us knew that!" Ron exclaimed.

"What? Didn't we tell anyone?"

"Of course not!" Hermione said. "Who would have believed us at the time?"

"In any case," Marie continued, shrugging. "This point is: Sure, he's managed to get a body this time around, but the fact that he's laying low right not means he's not anywhere near as strong as he was before. Think of it as a band that lost it's popularity and broke up only to try and make a come back years later when most of their fans have already moved on. It's possible to get another following but they'll never be in their prime again."

Cedric shuddered. "Your comparison is only a little comforting when it's tacked on after telling me You Know Who has been in Hogwarts, trying to regain a body before."

"Is that why you three sneaked out that time?" Neville demanded, a frantic look in his eyes. "We were told you guys stopped Quirrell from stealing a priceless artifact but it was actually You Know Who, wasn't it?"

"Quirrell was actually a part of it," Marie said. "He was hosting the Dark Wanker on the back of his head — that's what the stupid turban was for."

Neville gave a full body shudder. His voice came out raspy. "To think You Know Who was right there all that time. . ."

"I think that just proves how useless he is compared to how he was before. Fred and George enchanted snowballs to fly after Quirrell and nail him right where that evil git's face was and he couldn't do a bloody thing about it! He couldn't even take over Quirrells's body on his own, Quirrell had to voluntarily give up control."

"How do you even know that?" Ginny asked, her face ashened. No doubt she was remembering her own time as a host for Voldemort.

"Stupid plonker tried to use me to get at the thing he wanted and tried to intimidate me when I wouldn't cooperate. Ended up burning himself to ashes when he tried to grab me."

"How did that happen?" asked Cedric, leaning in.

Marie shrugged. "Hell if I know. Probably the same thing that did him in the first time. He turned to ash the first time right? The body was completely destroyed I think. Whatever it was, it definitely had something to do with my blood since after the grotty bellend managed to squeeze some out of me, he grabbed me without anything happening. Beyond me needing to disinfect, of course."

Ron jumped to his feet and covered his ears. "Can we please talk about something else? Something that won't give me nightmares?"

"If you want, we could talk about your eating habits, but that might give me nightmares."

Ron waved his wand warningly at her. "Don't make me hex you silent!"

"Pfft, I'd be more frightened if you were aiming at the person next to me."

"Ma-rie!"

AN: The comment about the boar, bear, and duck was borrowed from Gryffindors Never Die by Corruptmonk.