A nondescript barn owl, no doubt one the school kept for students without their own, was sitting next to Bernard. Evie took the expected letter from her father, gave Bernard a piece of toast and, after an affectionate scratch, sent him on his way. She then took the second letter, tended to that owl similarly and sent it away. After looking down at the vaguely familiar cursive, Evie glanced up to see her three best friends staring curiously at her.

"What?"

"Who's that from?" Hermione asked.

"I dunno," Evie mumbled, careful not to bite her lip.

"Sure it's for you?" Harry offered.

"Have you ever seen an owl deliver a letter to the wrong person?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, then who's writing you?"

"Why are you so nosey?"

"Just curious. You don't usually get letters from anyone other than your dad."

"Other people are allowed to write to me, you know," Evie snapped.

Harry was taken aback. "I didn't say they couldn't," he answered.

"Well, you certainly insinuated it," Evie accused. Panicking, she stood and rushed from the table before anyone could ask any other questions.

As she was leaving, she heard Harry turn to Hermione and Ron. "What did I do?"

"Women, mate. Ow."

Evie rushed out of the Great Hall and sighed. "Idiot," she chastised herself. She was going to have to get a lot better at keeping secrets if she was actually going to go through with this Zabini thing. With another sigh, she looked around. After a moment, she decided not to risk going to go to the library and being late to class. Unsure of what else to do, she started towards Herbology.

The air was frigid. She pulled her scarf tight around her and cursed her inability to think on her feet. She probably could have come up with something, had she actually expected to receive a letter from Zabini, but she hadn't. She'd been so sure her request would've been too much for him; she hadn't even considered what she'd say if anyone saw the letter and questioned her.

Shaking her head at the damage already done, she sat at the bottom of the stairs to read. She opened the one from her father first. It was the usual stuff. He asked how classes were, said how much he missed her over Christmas, wondered about the Ball and sent his love. With a small smile, Evie promised herself she would write to him soon and answer all his questions—and lie quite a bit about the Ball.

As she'd gained some distance from the night, she realized she had not helped the situation with Zacharias. She'd been in a bad mood since he hadn't been her first choice. But she couldn't bring herself to feel bad for how his night ended; he lacked self control and had a serious disregard for the word, 'no'.

Folding her father's letter, she tucked it away into her cloak. Then, after checking to make sure she was truly alone, Evie opened the second letter.

Diggory Evelyn,

You asked that I write letters about my life, so here is the first. I'm sorry I addressed you by your last name again. I tried not to, but I went through several pieces of parchment before I gave up starting anew each time. I don't know what you want me to tell you, so I guess I'll start at the beginning. In the future, you could try to be less vague when making requests.

Evie paused for a moment to breathe. She was vague. How could he write that and not see the hypocrisy in his words? She was already annoyed, and it was only the first paragraph. Taking another deep breath, Evie calmed herself. He had actually written the letter—she supposed the least she could do was finish it.

My notorious mother and her first husband, my father, brought me into this world in a huge mansion in Tuscany. I can only assume that my father was the only man Mother ever held any real affection for, since I'm her only child. We lived in that mansion, which overlooked sunflower fields, cliffs, and gaudy statues, for the first five years of my life.

Then we moved to England. Before my sixth birthday my father lost his life in some potions accident. His work involved dark and volatile magic so there wasn't really anything mysterious about his death. However, as you can imagine, Mother couldn't let the papers run with that story. A hefty donation to The Daily Prophet saw the end of any mention of the unsavory details. She entered a black widow phase soon after. I've only survived because I'm just her son. Despite her disinterest in romance, Mother did make friends. At the age of seven I was introduced to the Malfoys, and I've been close to Draco ever since.

Having friends in high places was wonderful. The Malfoys opened only the best doors for us. We ran in the most elite Pureblood circles, families like the Parkinsons, the Goyles, and the Crabbes. Our new friends were the best kind, rich and powerful. Moreover, with their friendships came a kinship of ideals. I'm sure I don't need to spell it out for you, but you asked me to be blunt. Many, if not all, of these families contained former Death Eaters.

Evie paused again. She wasn't sure what she felt at that moment. She had known…no, she hadn't. She had speculated, as most everyone had. She had never really considered that she could be wrong, but in that moment, she knew that she could've been, and that some very small part of her had hoped she was.

Our parents instilled in us a pride in our lineage and our pureblood status. We were told we were better, in every way, than all others because of it. I entered Hogwarts fully expecting to surpass all but other purebloods in every subject and task. Imagine my surprise when you and, in an even more embarrassing turn of events, Granger, proved me wrong.

It was, in fact, you who put the first seed of doubt into my mind. The day we met was the first time anyone—child or adult—had ever dared insult any of us. Draco talked of the slight endlessly for weeks. Pansy talked of it for over a month. She was determined to destroy you. Draco was baffled by your confidence and logic. Eventually, Pansy moved on to another girl she hated and began plotting new revenge. But for weeks after she forgot you, Draco and I talked of what you had said. Eventually, we both came to the conclusion that you didn't know anymore than we did, but our parents must surely know the truth, and we wouldn't let one annoying little girl tell us our parents were wrong.

How could she believe there was truth in his words? The statements about Parkinson did hold some validity. The girl treated her like she'd murdered a beloved pet. But here he was, saying she was the reason he, and Malfoy, started questioning their parents. The boy had to think she was an idiot. She thought it was possible—if for no other reason than that history provided examples—that not all Slytherins had to be vicious, but she wasn't naive. What proof was there that either of them weren't completely terrible?

Pausing to consider the possibility, she realized Zabini had shown there might be another side to him once: the day she'd asked him not to insult her; the day he'd listened. She couldn't think of a single instance that Malfoy hadn't been terrible, though. There had been moments, she would admit, when she thought he might not be as bad as he acted, but those moments were over as soon as the thought crossed her mind.

Suddenly, the doors to the Entrance Hall opened and students poured out. Evie stuffed the letter into her cloak and stood up. She rushed off to the greenhouses and stood in her usual spot. The table was full mistletoe. Evie couldn't say she was surprised; not much else grew in the winter, and it seemed rather fitting with Christmas having just passed.

When the rest of the class filed in, her friends cast her weary looks before Professor Sprout started the lesson. The work was tedious at best, but Evie couldn't help noticing how much Neville really did thrive in Herbology. He answered more questions than the Hufflepuffs, but Professor Sprout didn't seem to mind. In fact, the older woman swelled with pride at Neville's prowess.

On the way to Care of Magical Creatures, Evie noted with suspicion that Ron and Hermione rushed ahead of her while Harry held back. He fell in step beside her and adjusted his glasses, a nervous tick she'd picked up on midway through first year.

The raven-haired boy cleared his throat.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I'm sorry for…what I said this morning?"

Evie tried very hard not to chuckle at his obvious nerves and understandable confusion. He hadn't actually said anything rude to set her off, but he seemed to fear being subjected to her wrath and so apologized, even if he wasn't sure what he was saying sorry for.

"Are you? That seemed more a question than a statement."

"I am. I didn't mean to upset you."

Smiling, Evie turned to Harry. "I'm not angry with you, Harry." The brunette couldn't help the mirthful quiver of her voice.

"You aren't?"

"No, of course not," Evie sighed and waved his worry away. "I received a letter from an old friend who really hurt me, though it wasn't her fault. We haven't talked since before I got my letter for Hogwarts."

"You've never talked about any old friends."

"Well, as I said, we stopped talking before I even met you." Evie actively worked to keep her lip from curling between her teeth. "She was just writing to apologize and ask how I was."

"Are you going to forgive her?"

"Not quite so easily. But I think I'll write her back. She put in a lot of effort; I can at least return the favor, don't you think?" Evie took great pleasure in turning Zabini into a girl to her friends, but she also very much needed to hear them agree that writing him back was a good idea—even if they didn't really know who he was.

"Worth a shot, I think. It's always nice to end a feud with a friend," Harry replied.

His answer actually made the girl feel guiltier, because she knew he was thinking of Ron, and he would most certainly not agree if he realized what he'd just encouraged her to do.

"Yeah," Evie answered with a pit opening in her stomach.

That evening after dinner, Evie disappeared to the back of the library. Pulling out Zabini's letter, she finished reading what was left of it.

Most of everything else I could tell you, you already know, because it takes place during my school years. I really started questioning my Mother and all the other adults in my life when I met Granger, and she embarrassed me soundly in almost every class we had together. Your words found their way back into the forefront of my mind, and I even dared to speak to Draco about the situation. It did nothing but put him in a fouler mood than he had been.

That's all I have, Dig Evelyn. I don't know what else you want me to say. I'm not even sure if I'm supposed to expect an owl back, but I guess I'll find out soon enough.

B

Evie narrowed her eyes at the ending of the letter. She was going to write him back, of course. She just wasn't sure what to say. She could confirm the rumors surrounding Mrs. Zabini. The woman went through more husbands than anyone Evie had ever heard of. She also knew that Malfoy and Zabini had been friends for a while before she'd ever met them.

Sighing, Evie wrote a reply to her father first. After she finished it, she put it away and stared at the next piece of empty parchment. She moved her quill in circles over the paper. Minutes passed, and she sat with the quill hovering.

After several long minutes, Evie set the quill back in the ink pot and groaned. "What the bloody hell am I supposed to write?" She said, muffling her words in her hands.

"Evie?"

The brunette jumped, hiding her still empty parchment and turning.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Cho Chang held up her hands.

"N-no, it's alright. I just wasn't expecting anyone to find me back here," Evie answered, brushing stray strands of hair from her face. She paused, noting that the red her friends had mentioned over a week ago seemed to be spreading. Shaking her head, she decided to leave that problem for another day.

"Is that why you're back here?"

"Sort of, but I don't mind the distraction. What are you doing back here?"

Cho held up a book and smiled. "O.W.L.S this year," she said, offering no other explanation, but that was enough for Evie.

Evie nodded. "Not looking forward to that."

"Really? Cedric always says you're doing great in all your classes."

"He does?" Evie perked up.

Cho laughed lightly. "Yeah, you should hear him go on sometimes. He almost sounds like a father."

"Sounds like him. Dad's always joking that he took the job of looking after me too much to heart," Evie blushed and rubbed the back of her neck.

"I think it's really sweet," Cho assured the younger girl.

"Yeah, don't know what I'd do without him." Evie glanced down at the table with a small smile.

A comfortable silence drifted between the two girls for a moment before Cho jerked to attention.

"What was it you were working on?"

"Oh…just a letter I can't think of how to write."

"Writing home?"

"No, actually. I'm writing to someone I haven't spoken to in a very long time."

"What about?" There was that old Ravenclaw curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking." It was definitely an afterthought to be polite and not probe, but Evie didn't really mind.

"Well, that's sort of the problem. I don't know what to say."

"What did they say?"

"She told me everything that had happened since we last spoke."

"So, why not start there? Tell her you got the letter, maybe comment of some of the things she said and then tell her what you've been up to."

"That's a great idea. Thanks, Cho."

"No problem." Cho waved away Evie's gratitude before glancing at her watch. "I've got to get back to the common room to study, but good luck with your friend."

"Thanks. Good luck studying," Evie waved the ebony haired girl off before turning back to the empty and slightly crumpled parchment.

Z,

First thing first, stop calling me Evelyn. The only person who calls me that is my father, and only when I'm in really big trouble. At least in these letters, try to address me as Evie. That being said, I'm surprised you've actually written to me at all. I half-expected to never hear from you again. I guess you're more serious than I thought.

I had to lie to my friends when they asked about the letter I'd gotten. You're now a girl I used to be friends with. We ended on bad terms, and then you moved away. You decided to get back in touch, see how I was and if we could mend old wounds. I have decided to be gracious and allow said mending to take place. So, I forgive you for your past transgressions… You don't have a name yet so I suppose you can pick one out. What would you have been called if you were a girl? Do try to be clever, Zabini. Don't just go with the female version of your name—that wouldn't even make sense and it would take Hermione two seconds to figure it out.

You kept mentioning M in your letter. You can't honestly expect me to believe that he feels the same way you do. What has he ever done to hint that he's not identical to his parents? Look, I might be willing to give you a chance—though it's a very slim chance—but you can't expect me to do the same for him. Not without some sort of proof, at least.

Evie added the last line of that paragraph after a moment's hesitation. Malfoy was always an annoying elitist, but if it was all an act, if he wanted a way out, what kind of person would she be to deny him that? Certainly not the sort of person her brother would be proud of, though he was the one who told her not to try to change Malfoy's mind so many years ago. No, if Cedric saw proof that he was better than his parents, Evie was sure he wouldn't turn his back on the idea of helping Malfoy better himself.

Also, I noticed you mentioned your father when we spoke at the Ball, but you just told me in this letter that your father died when you were six. Do you call all your stepfathers 'father'? Or is this one special? Are you worried about disappointing him, or are you worried you'd be punished for not doing what he told you? I might be overstepping, but I want to understand your family dynamic better so I know what I'm dealing with.

Other than that, I suppose there's nothing left I need you to elaborate on. I hope to hear from you soon. Oh, and next time you want to complain to someone about being vague, make sure you haven't been as vague as a prophecy yourself first.

E

Satisfied with both letters, Evie sealed them and made her way quickly to the Owlery. She sent the first letter off, but to the second owl she said, "I don't know how this works, but don't give this to Blaise Zabini until tomorrow morning."

The tawny owl made a clicking sound that could have passed for annoyance or sarcasm.

"Oh, so it's my fault I don't know how you do things?" The owl clicked at her again. "No need to be rude. Maybe next time I won't ask you to mail my letters." The owl ruffled his feathers. Evie huffed, handed him the letter and walked out.

The next letter came two days later. Evie didn't say anything to her friends, but Harry gave her a small smile. Even though she felt herself return it, Evie felt guilty. He was being really encouraging about a possible friendship; he'd be furious with her if he knew the truth.

Evelyn,

I finally managed to do that without writing your last name first, so how about we take smaller steps. If you're really that afraid of your nosy friends, don't read this in public, or lie. You can't possibly be that terrible at lying; you keep getting into dangerous situations all the time—you have to lie a bit for those, don't you?

Evie closed her eyes but kept from pinching the bridge of her nose. Was he always going to be so insufferable when she was helping him? The freckled brunette began wondering just what she'd gotten herself into and if she had the patience for it. She'd already lied to her best friends, though, so quitting now when he was holding up his end of the bargain seemed stupid. Besides, she reasoned, important information could come from the correspondence.

Glad to see my commitment is no longer in question. Contrary to popular belief, not all Slytherins are lining up to join the cause, or interested in the dark arts. If nothing else, you should never doubt that I would rather not give my life for an already once failed cause. Self-preservation is one of my favorite things.

As far as my father is concerned, he has been with my mother the second longest. I'm sure you know her ring finger used to look like an advertisement for all the best jewelers, but she's been with Lionel Rosier longer than anyone except my father, so I stopped calling him stepfather at Mother's request. Also, calling him 'stepfather number seven' was apparently both insulting and embarrassing. Neither of them took too kindly to it, and after a convincing punishment, I conceded. I have no emotional connection to him, if that's your concern. To answer your questions, he isn't special to me, but surely is to Mother. I could not care less about disappointing him, but I would be punished if I disobeyed. However, I would like to point out that this entire conversation is something neither of them would approve of, so you shouldn't be worried that I will change my mind.

M, if that's how you wish to address him, is not someone I can tell you about. Not to be misunderstood, I could tell you almost everything about him. I'm his oldest and closest friend, but you know that, which is why you're asking. What I mean is, it's not my place to tell you how he feels about the whole situation. I've been entrusted with his thoughts, and though it may surprise you, Slytherin loyalty rivals that of the Hufflepuffs. If and when he decides to be clear about his views, he will be. However, if you wish me to relay the offer of an out, I will. I'm not saying he'll take it, or care, I'm just saying I'll relay the message.

I saved the issue of my secret identity for last because I would like to express how annoyed I am with the choice you made. I can't help feeling, Diggory, that you took some sort of joy in turning me into a female.

Evie smirked and glanced up in the direction of the Slytherin table. Zabini looked up and Evie wondered if he'd been doing that periodically the entire time she'd been reading. His eyes narrowed as he saw her smirk, but the moment lasted no more than a few seconds. She scanned the rest of the hall as though that had been her original plan and he quickly returned to his food. The only one who seemed to notice the hint of a moment was Malfoy, who narrowed his eyes as hers slid across his. Evie blinked and then returned to the letter.

Seeing as you've already done it and it can't be reversed, refer to me as Eris. That should be impossible for Granger to track back to me, or any male for that matter. In the future, however, I would appreciate if you would confer with me before making up any other stories about me to your friends. I'd hate for the next thing you tell them to be that I'm muggleborn or unattractive.

Eris

Evie rolled her eyes at the last bit and folded the letter up. If he wanted her to talk to him about any more lies she told, she would. She just didn't understand how being muggleborn or unattractive were bad things, or why they were the same level of bad.

Eris,

While your level of loyalty to M does indeed astound me, I can and will respect it. I don't know if I'm actually extending an offer to him. My statement was that, if he chose to show interest in being better than his parents, I would allow him the same chance I'm allowing you. I didn't extend the offer to you, you came to me, so I suppose I would expect the same level of commitment from him. Or, perhaps a better word is, the same level of risk. That's all I'm saying on the subject of him, unless there is good reason to bring him up again.

Rosier…I've heard that name before. I can't place it, but I know I've heard it. Honestly, yes, I had heard that your mother's heart—or bedroom—was a revolving door of men. Sorry, that was rude, but the rumor was quite unflattering. Are all your parents so cruel? I mean, from what I've seen, you guys get some pretty harsh punishments for not following the rules. I don't know if it's all true, or just stories made up to remind me why Pureblood Supremacists are terrible people. 'They aren't even nice to their children'; that sort of thing.

Those seem to be the most important things I needed to talk to you about, so I guess the rest is up to you. You can keep telling me bits about your childhood, and keep me informed about anything you hear, of course. As far as my ability to lie goes, with most people it's not a problem, but apparently I have a telltale sign that my friends and family have caught on to. Also, not insulting me was part of this agreement, so you should keep that in mind for your next letter. Anyway, nice talking to you as always, Eris…until next time, stay as dainty as ever, my dear.

Evelyn

"Cedric!" Evie rushed after her brother's retreating back.

"Hey, Little Diggory." Grant, Cedric's oldest friend, smiled as the two turned towards her.

"Chubby Grant, how are you?"

Grant rolled his eyes, but smirked all the same. "You'll give that up one day."

"Not until you do."

"Did you come to see me, or did you come to mess with Grant? I can just go." Cedric half turned and eyed his sister.

"I actually did come to see you."

"Alright, guess that's my cue to leave." Grant waved at both Diggorys before turning to continue in the direction he and Cedric had been heading.

The siblings both waved at his retreating back before turning back to each other.

"How's everything going?" Cedric asked.

"I could be worse. How are you? I haven't really had a chance to talk to you since classes started back up."

"Yeah, well on top of being a champion, it's also still my last year. I have to get ready for NEWTS. The workload is insane."

"That's so reassuring, big brother. Now, I definitely want to stay in school."

"Yeah, whatever. At least I'm preparing you. I could've let you figure it out on your own."

"No, you couldn't have. You're too nice."

The duo made their way to the courtyard again and sat on a bench.

"So, how are you doing with your weird gold egg?"

"I figured it out."

"You stopped the screeching?"

"Yeah, I also figured out the riddle. What about Harry?"

"I don't think he's even figured out how to stop that terrible noise, let alone that it's supposed to be a riddle."

"What?"

"What?" Evie tilted her head at Cedric.

"He didn't take it in the water?"

"Why would he do that?"

"I told him…well, I hinted, you know, because he told me about the dragon, that he should take a bath with it in the Prefects bathroom."

Annoyance rippled through Evie. "When did you tell him that?"

"During the Yule Ball. I'd only just figured it out myself."

"That stupid…" Evie huffed, trying to control her annoyance. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I've got to go knock some sense into Harry."

"It's alright, just don't forget to come see me sometime."

"You could come see me too, you know." Evie raised an eyebrow at her brother.

Cedric sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I've been pretty bad, haven't I?"

Evie shrugged.

"I'll make more time for you, I promise." Cedric pulled Evie into a hug, and then surprised her by kissing the top of her head.

"What was that for?" Evie pulled away and looked up at Cedric with furrowed eyebrows.

"Because you're my baby sister and I love you."

"Are you okay?"

Cedric laughed and let go. "Of course I am."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I can't tell you I love you without there being something wrong?"

"Not usually."

"Just go yell at Harry, but don't kill him. I'm not visiting you in Azkaban if you do."

"You always know how to ruin my fun." But Evie waved all the same and turned to head towards her common room.

Harry was in there with Ron and Hermione, the latter of whom was helping the other two go over their homework.

Evie walked up to her friends, quickly catching the attention of a very bored Ron.

"Where have you been?" The redhead cut through Hermione's notes on the Goblin Rebellions.

"I went to see Cedric." Evie didn't even glance at Ron. She turned her attention to glaring at Harry instead. "I need to speak with you."

"Can it wait? Hermione was just-"

"Now."

She didn't wait for him to answer. She marched right back out of the portrait hole and waited. Harry clambered out one minute later, looking uneasy.

"What is wrong with you?" Evie rounded on him quickly.

"What did I do?"

"Cedric told you how to figure out the egg during at the Yule Ball."

"All he said was to take it for a bath." Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Which was a hint and you know it. He was trying to pay you back for the dragon." Evie lowered her voice and glanced around to make sure they weren't overheard.

"I don't need his help." Harry's face scrunched together.

"Oh, so you've already figured it out then?" Evie raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. "You know it's not screeching, it's a riddle?" She watched Harry's eyes widen. "You know what the riddle says and how to handle the second task, which is coming up very soon?"

Harry's face paled. "It's a riddle?"

"So you don't know?" Evie's face dropped and her mouth set in a thin line. "I didn't think so. You're running out of time, and you can't afford to be petty anymore, Harry. Cedric is trying to help you, so you can either carry on acting like a whiny brat, or you can take his help and survive this tournament." She paused as a first year walked by them to get into the common room. "Take that stupid egg for a bath or I'll throw you both is the lake myself. Banana fritters." Evie, once again, gave Harry no time to argue. She said the password and stomped into the common room, before plopping herself onto a giant plush chair.

Ron and Hermione shared a cautious look, but neither said anything. Harry walked in two minutes later and returned to his original seat.

"I think," he paused and glanced at Evie. "I think I'm going to take the egg into water. I got the password for the Prefects bathroom and I'm going tonight to figure it out."

"You said you already worked it out." Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"I was mistaken."

Hermione turned to Evie for answers.

"He's fixing it. Cedric offered some help."

"What d'you need us to do, mate?" Ron asked.