First Change – Step-Sibling-less lessons

Another problem with being a prefect, this year was 'Ball year', in other words, the school balls were open to my year group now, and prefects were asked to attend to 'keep it under control'. At least I could use that as my excuse for not having a date.

Having already read all of my books (and made notes, of course) when I got into my dorm that evening, I began rummaging around in the box under my school bed. At the end of every year I left a few important things in a black box here so that they were less likely to be found by the 'Steps' if they were to be at home.

I found the necklace that my mother had given me on my sixth birthday, it had three simple shapes dangling off the bronze chain, a line, a circle and a triangle. My mother had said it had been given to her when she was pregnant with me and the shapes had reminded her of the deathly hallows (something she'd told me of) so she said, I had given her life so I should be her master of death.

I hadn't understood it then, but now, as I gazed down at the browning red symbols, it seemed ironic that her own 'master of death' was unable to save her and was the only one left alive.

I felt my expression fall painfully, I certainly didn't feel alive, I feel dead, hollowed out and filled with the lead of dread about the upcoming year.

For the first time since my mother died I slipped on the necklace, feeling the cool of the metal against my pale skinned neck.

I glanced up at my reflection, deep red curls streaked with golden brown fell down to my waist. I'd inherited the red from my father and a toned down curl from my mother.

Too much thought of my mother in one day.

I silently slipped into my nightclothes, whispered, 'Nox' and climbed into bed, hoping for a good first day.

I awoke dead on six in a cold sweat, remnants of the nightmare still lingering in my mind, a pale unknown hand grasped my wrist preventing me from leaving, leaving what though?

I showered quickly, charming my hair dry and pulling on my uniform. A glance out of the window told me it was still cold, judging by the mist that was hanging over the lake, so I grabbed my cloak too.

On my way down to breakfast I spotted a stranded first year. She had brown hair pulled into two plaits either side of her head, and a mousy expression, which changed from a fearful fright to one of relief when she spotted my prefect badge.

"Excuse me miss?" she al but squeaked, revealing that her voice matched her persona quite well; small and mousy.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"Um, how do I get to the great hall again?"

I smiled kindly, "Remember, just keep going downwards until you get to the big entrance hall."

She smiled back gratefully and sparked up a conversation. Sabina, as I found out her name was, turned out to be rather interesting, she was a muggleborn by birth and found the whole experience extremely overwhelming. She also seemed a girl after my own heart as she had looked at most of her books and decided she was most exited about Transfiguration.

I bid the smiling girl goodbye as we reached the Great Hall and she scurried over to the Ravenclaw table. I found a place at Gryffindor and waited for Professor Longbottom to hand out the timetables.

I skimmed the sheet before me, cast a form of the gemio charm to copy my new timetable into the back of my diary, the hurried back to my dorm to collect my books for today.

Double Potions, Transfiguration, Free, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies.

It should be interesting to see who is still taking what.

Professor Neglegar was already waiting behind his desk when I got to the dungeon, his general scowl imprinted into his features, his sharp jaw matching his short, sleek black hair. Not once had I seen him smile unless it was but with malice.

There were five others still carrying on with potions, this meant a table each; Albus Potter, surprisingly; two Ravenclaws; another Gryffindor (Charlie Preset) and Scorpius Malfoy. I was the only girl. Though surprised by Albus, there were none in regards to the last on that list. Malfoy regularly competed with me for end of term tests, and due to the fact in lessons (the ones with my step-siblings in) I keep out of the limelight, he'd be top in most lesson time. I was in a way looking forward to Potions this year (ignoring the fact the teacher was severe and I was going to have to put up with the jokes about being female) due to the fact I could excel now and be more free because of the lack of step-siblings in this class.

Neglegar set us off with a claming draught to 'refresh our memories'. Jimmy Kelpie (one of the Ravenclaws) had to take some of Malfoy's because he got so worked up when his failed.

I could see him dropping this early on.

At the end of the lesson we were set the homework to find some general research on the Draught of the Living Death so we could brew it next lesson. I jotted it down in my diary and swept my contents back into my bag and headed off to Transfiguration.

By the end of the day I was slightly intrigued by the fact that Malfoy was still in all of my lessons (so far). If I pondered on it too long I ended up thinking that he was stalking me, so I passed it off as a funny coincidence. I never knew he liked Muggles so much as to study them…

In my free I'd done my transfiguration homework (an essay on Animagi) while it was still fresh in my mind, and having (again, so far) all step-sibling free lessons I'd not had to work slowly in lessons like everyone else so I had no extra 'finish this for homework' tasks from my teachers. I had only my Potions essay left to do and that wasn't needed in until Wednesday.

After a word with the elderly Madam Pince she let me loose in the Restricted section, saying 'You're trustworthy enough, just don't take anything out.'

That rule was always fine by me; all I really needed was a few well chosen paragraphs copied out.

It was during this alone time in the restricted section that I found the legendary Half-Blood Prince's book.

I ran my hands over the well worn copy of Advanced Potion Making, one that was assumed to be destroyed (according to what my mother had told me). Obviously the fiend fire had not done its job, I pondered if it were simply a replica book made my Snape himself, or if it really had survived the blaze.

I wondrously flicked trough the pages to see the black inked scrawl covering the pages with Snape's own notes. I felt deceitful to Madam Pince and indeed to my mother, but a Gemeo charm later found me walking out of the library, my notes and a my own replica book tucked securely in my bag.

The end of the week brought about a few things; I finished the book; produced a perfect Draught of the Living Death due to that; found out I share all but one of my Lessons with Malfoy and the one Malfoy free lesson (charms – still considered an easy option had too many people in to just have one class so he was in the other one) has the 'Steps' in. (I only shared Herbology with them otherwise)

It seemed to be the start of a promising year.

I eased in well to the year; perfecting privileges gave rise to many late night walks though the castle and its peaceful midnight grounds.

One evening in early October I pulled my scarf tight to my neck, donned with two thick jumpers I clutched the outcome of my summer job.

Whilst the job had given me many excuses to leave the house (always a good thing), working at Flourish and Blots repairing books had given me a very tidy sum.

So, this year, I was learning to fly.

It was ten o'clock now, the pitch was deserted and in my hands I held my Firebolt Sparks before me, I could feel it quivering in anticipation beneath my cold wintered fingers.

I mounted cautiously and, after a deep breath, pushed off.

I shot fifty feet in the air before I regained control once more, then I bolted forward as the awaited exhilaration kicked in. Turning sharply at the top of my flight I plummeted back toward the ground, the frozen moss of the grass barely colour identified by the weak, cloud covered moon.

I pulled out of the dive much earlier than I'd have wanted to, but face planting on my third flight out was probably not the best idea I've ever come up with.

Other than my red hair, flying was another thing I'd gotten from my father. I felt at ease while I flew, the height and speed only adding to the pure thrill filling my body as I twisted and turned.

I fell into bed that evening with my heart still fluttering relentlessly and a smile lingering on my lips.

I awoke the next morning however, not as good after seeing the common room notice board – a Christmas-themed ball on December 3rd, two months until I had to endure a room filled with fancy-dressed peers in pairs. I sighed resentfully and headed down to breakfast.

I was slightly cheered by the Gringotts letter I received informing me of the generous interest my vault had received. Looks like I should get some smart clothes for this stupid ball, maybe next Hogsmeade trip.

I felt a smile creep back to my lips, despite to upcoming inevitable shopping trip, due to the prospect of potions (surprisingly). We were going to be making Amortentia.

Half and hour later found me staring at the characteristic swirls, mother of pearl sheen and taking a deep inhalation of the amiable aroma sweetly clouding my senses.

I took out my parchment and began to write what I could smell:

Old books (no surprises there)

Sugar quills (an all time favourite of mine)

Sweet, musky, unidentifiable scent (not sure about the last one but I'd defiantly smelled it before)

When I looked up from writing my personal smells I found Malfoy reading over my shoulder. I blushed slightly and glanced up at his amused expression, his clear blue eyes twinkling with a strange unknown happiness. I think it would be best if it stayed unknown.

"And what would Mr Nosy be doing?" I enquired, feeling much bolder due to the amazing scent that still filled my brain.

He didn't even flinch, instead a smirk reached his rouge lips, but he paused for a second before saying, "old books?" I could tell he was going to have said something else, I wonder what held him back?

I did blush deeper though, to hide it I reached over to his desk and snatched up his own parchment:

Old books

Rain

Flowery scent

My own smirk formed, I raised my eyebrows, "you were saying?"

He had the decency to blush then, but a small smile still stayed in his eyes as he looked down at me, "I just never thought I'd share something in common with you," his voice was oddly quizzical.

I frowned slightly at his tone, shrugged a little and said quietly, "I am a normal person too; I just like to keep to myself." I wasn't sure if he heard me because I'd turned back to my potion, receiving another whiff of that unknown intoxication, my eyes rolled back slightly at its sensual taste that formed on my tongue.