"Miss Snape, why do I smell cheese?"

"Ah shit!"

"Excuse me?"

"Uh, I mean—I've got no idea why you smell cheese, Professor."

"Give it to me."

"I don't—"

"Natalia."

"Alright, fine—here."

"… All of them."

"I only have—"

"Don't make me... search you."

"Dang it," muttered Talia, reaching into her robes and pulling out two extra ham and cheese rolls wrapped in several sheets of napkin. She looked at the rolls ruefully for a moment, before begrudgingly giving them to her uncle. "What are you going to do with them?"

"What I do with them is none of your concern," hissed Severus, before saying, "and I expect you to plait your hair so that it does not resemble a... rat's nest."

"My hair does not—"

"Natalia."

"Fine," Talia hissed at her uncle, taking off her pointed hat and slapping it onto Draco's chest. "Hold this for me, will you?"

Draco snickered, holding on to Talia's hat.

The whole student body was gathered outside of the castle steps in four, neat rows; each row representing a Hogwarts' House. Dusk was falling upon them as they waited for… Well, no one was exactly sure what they were waiting for, but one thing was for sure—Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due to arrive any minute now, and the Heads of Houses were inspecting their students, making sure that their cloaks and pointed hats (which they only wore on special occasions) were clean, and that they looked relatively put together. Every House wanted to look its best, and they did not want to make a bad first impression on their foreign guests.

Grumbling underneath her breath as she quickly braided her hair, Talia shot her uncle a rather nasty look, which he returned with a smug smirk. If they'd been alone she was sure that he'd even go as far as to hold up the rolls in her face, taunting her with the fact that he had them, and not she. Dinner was being delayed because of these other schools, and Talia had hoped to get a quick bite to eat to hold her over until the Welcoming Feast.

"Professor Lupin would have let me eat my rolls," mumbled Talia once her uncle was out of hearing rang.

"I'm actually starting to miss that guy," Draco admitted quietly. "If he'd still been here then we wouldn't have Moody."

"Finally you see the light!" exclaimed Talia, causing Draco to shove her aside gently.

"Seriously though," said Draco, lowering his voice, "anybodies better than Moody."

"How right you are," whispered Talia, taking her hat from Draco and placing it on her head, "Well, how does it look?"

"It's a bit off—hold still," he said, and adjusted the hat for her, "there."

"My hair didn't really look like a rat's nest, did it?" asked Talia after a moment. "I washed it and brushed it down—one of the girls in my dormitory even said that it looked nice."

"… Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Draco!" cried Talia indignantly, swatting his arm.

"Well I mean, your hair did look a bit—"

"How much do you value your life?" asked Talia with a glare.

"Too much," said Draco haughtily. "Should I lie, then?"

"Please do so," said Talia with a soft chuckle.

"Alright—your hair looked marvelous this evening," Draco said with a flourish, causing Talia to snicker, "Those natural curls you were sporting were looking as radiant as—is that cheese I smell?"

Talia bit her lip to stifle her laughs, and then very quietly, said, "You didn't think I wouldn't bring back up, did you?"

"You didn't," said Draco incredulously, before furrowing his eyebrows is disbelief as Talia patted her pocket, "You did."

"I'll give you a bite if you don't say anything."

"Deal," agreed Draco, before quickly adding, "but I get the first bite."

"What?" asked Talia indignantly, "Your meaning of a first bite is very different from mine! Knowing you, you'll try to stuff the whole thing in your mouth just to spite me."

"You know me so well," said Draco teasingly, before from the back of the rows, where all the professors were gathered, came Dumbledore's voice, cutting across all the chattering of his students, saying—

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

Talia and Draco immediately looked down towards the driveway, expecting to see a carriage or some other type of vehicle being brought in through the entrance gates, but there was nothing there. The gates remained unperturbed, gleaming with the lights that came down from the castle windows.

"Are they coming by broomstick?" asked Talia, looking up at the darkening sky.

"Maybe they're Appar—"

"You can't Apparate into Hogwarts, Draco," said Talia impatiently, "have you not read Hogwarts: A History?"

"Why would I read that old thing?" asked Draco with a scowl, his eyes searching the sky for something, "it's thousands of pages long, and I—"

"What is that?" hissed a neighboring Slytherin, pointing up at the sky, over the Forbidden Forest.

Immediately, all eyes followed the outstretched arm and pointed finger, and from above the Forbidden Forest, a large shadow could be seen flying through the air, skirting over tops of trees, growing closer to the castle with every passing second. It was a large thing, far larger then a broomstick—or a hundred of them bunched together.

"It's a dragon!" yelled a scared first year.

"Don't be stupid," admonished a Gryffindor, "It's a flying house!"

"A flying house?" asked Draco incredulously, looking down at Talia, "Really?"

"Don't complain to me, I'm not the one who said it," chuckled Talia.

However, the Gryffindor's guess was correct… somewhat. As the large shadow hurtled through the air towards the castle, it began to take shape. A large, powder blue carriage flew through the air, the size of a large house, being pulled by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

"WINGED HORSES!" screeched Talia, pulling at Draco's sleeve repeatedly, "Oh Merlin—WINGED HORSES!"

"I heard you the first time!" snapped Draco, pulling his arm from Talia's grasp. "Blimey, with the way you were acting you'd think you'd been told that you'd gotten a unicorn for your birthday."

"Don't tease me, Draco," Talia said with a large smile, staring at the horses in fascination as they descended through the air at an alarmingly fast speed.

There was a crash as the horses touched down, the carriage bouncing behind them on its many golden wheels. Everyone watched curiously, as the door opened, and out stepped a boy in pale blue robes made of fine silk. He fiddled with something underneath the door—he was pulling out a set of golden steps, it seemed. Once the steps were pulled out and in place, the boy stepped back and held the door open, and from within the carriage came out a large, black high-heeled shoe.

"That thing is as big as that sled I got for Christmas when I was four," Talia gasped as she stared at the large shoe, before being wacked behind the head rather roughly.

"Do behave yourself, Miss Snape," hissed her uncle as he walked towards the front of the Slytherin row, the other Heads of Houses doing the same.

Talia rolled her eyes but kept silent, staring in awe at the owner of the high-heeled shoe. The woman was large—as large as Hagrid, possibly even bigger!

"A half-giant," said Draco, surprised, before snickering, "Well, that explains the size of the carriage and horses."

"Shut up," said Talia, trying and failing to suppress a giggle.

Dumbledore began to clap as he made his way towards the front of his group of students, and everyone followed his lead. They all clapped, and some even inched closer towards the front, to get a better look at this odd half-giant woman and whoever else should step out of the carriage; Talia inched closer to get a good look at the horses, naturally.

"My dear Madame Maxime," Dumbledore said with a grin. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

Madame Maxime stepped forward and extended a hand encrusted in various glittering opal rings—of course, she had to bend down for Dumbledore to kiss it properly, but that did not seem to faze her. She had probably had to do it countless times, given her height and all.

With a very French accent, Madame Maxime said, "Dumbly-dorr," and Draco lost it.

He burst out laughing, but quickly ducked his head and covered his mouth with his hands. Thankfully, he and Talia were standing towards the back of the Slytherin row, and no one heard him other than his neighboring students, who chuckled behind their hands.

"Dumbly-dorr," Draco said in a dreadfully spot-on imitation of Madame Maxime's deep voice. "Shit—that's the best thing I've ever heard this year—even better than your Assbutt."

Talia rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips. Headmaster Dumbly-dorr—she'd totally include that in her next letter home. Her father would just have a laugh with it!

While Madame Maxime and Dumbledore talked, exchanging pleasantries no doubt, about a dozen boys and girls stepped out of the carriage, and Draco whistled appreciatively as he (and nearly all the boys of Hogwarts) began sizing the girls up. They were slender things, dressed in silk, pale blue dresses, with shawls wrapped around their shoulders instead of cloaks, allowing their curvy bodies to be seen by everyone.

Draco felt a tap underneath his chin, and begrudgingly he tore his eyes away from the French girls who all looked to be in their late teens. He saw Talia standing in front of him, drawing her hand back. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," Talia sneered, "just helping you pick up your jaw from the ground."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned to look back at the girls, but then a thought hit him suddenly, and he snapped his head back to Talia. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes narrowed, and she had her arms crossed across her chest in a rather haughty pose. She was facing away from him completely, pretending to find something interesting on the back of the Slytherin's robes that stood before her.

"You're jealous," he said quietly, so that only she would hear.

Talia merely harrumphed in annoyance, keeping her head high and most certainly turned away from him.

I can't fucking believe it, thought Draco with the largest smile on his face, Talia is jealous! Oh, this will be fun!

He casually threw an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close and whispering in her ear, "No need to be jealous, my dear."

Talia rolled her eyes, muttering loftily, "I'm not jealous."

She wasn't jealous, not really. She just didn't like how Draco was nearly drooling at the sight of those girls, with their pretty coifed hair, and lovely silk dresses, and their beautiful faces, and— NO!

"I'm not jealous," repeated Talia, this time halfheartedly, her sights down low. A little voice in the back of her head whispered to her, but she quickly pushed it away. The mere thought made her shiver.

… This is how Pansy must feel, and so that means that I like Dra—No, Talia would not think of that.

It was sometime later that the Durmstrang delegation came along, rising from the Black Lake in an enchanted ship that sailed beneath the waves rather than above them. Their headmaster was a tall, thin man that went by the name of Igor Karkaroff. He was followed up the lawns from the lake and to the school by a rather large group of boys, who all looked well built, covered in cloaks made of shaggy matted fur.

Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian's Quidditch team Seeker, was among them.

Talia nearly cried out when Dumbledore led the way into the castle. Standing outside—waiting—made too many thoughts race through her head. She had a lot to think about tonight, mainly her confusing, rapidly changing feelings towards Draco, but for now, she was looking forward to the thoughtless act of stuffing food into her mouth. It would give her something to do with her hands (she planned to be meticulous with her food tonight), subsequently driving her thoughts away from the blond boy who still had his arm wrapped around her shoulders.