Wow guys I'm finally back! I bet you all thought I had abandoned this story well...NO EFFING WAY! I WILL FINISH THIS DAMN THING IF IT KILLS MEH! *cough* Yeah I've had to deal with major obstacles (still am) but I've still been writing and I'm very happy to be posting chapters once again. You can throw rotten tomatoes at me if you wish, I deserve it lol. Anyways I'm back on track and ready to roll this story onward once again! WOOT WOOT!

WARNING: CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT/LANGUAGE BETWEEN GWEN/MARCUS. IF ADULT MATERIAL MAKES YOU SQUEAMISH PLEASE SKIP AHEAD.

THANK YOU

"I want your pansy asses to move! Are you cocksuckers playing Quidditch, or just buggering yourselves on your brooms?!" Marcus vehemently shouted at his team, every one of them looking like they would drop out of the sky any minute from exhaustion.

"Bloody fuck, Flint, we've been going at it non-stop for two fucking hours! Let's call it a day mate, yeah? We're only playing against Hufflepoofters." Draco said tiredly, attempting to reason with their sadistically fanatical captain. Marcus glowered menacingly at Malfoy, not wanting to admit that he was right, but allowing practice to cease for the moment. The grateful team, including Gwen who had taken the brunt of Flint's ire, made a beeline towards the ground. They milled about as Marcus discussed how they were going to take down the opposing team and that nobody better fuck up this time; making a point to glare at Malfoy.

Gwen was aware that the reason their captain was in such a piss poor mood was because of her epic blue-ballsing the previous night. She had played a dangerous game that she knew was going to bite her in the ass. Not that she minded per se. she was intrigued by the violent man who could dominate her so…perfectly. She'd always been so confident and sure of herself that it was easy to play with men as she saw fit, then walking away scot-free when they got boring. Flint was a whole new ballgame; he wouldn't allow her to do as she pleased which was the…intrigue. Gwen, being the glutton for punishment that she was, licked her lips slowly as an idea formed to poke her tiger further. Her devious hazel eyes perused her possible victims to put the plan in motion.

(Hmm, which one of these unsuspecting fools shall it be? Higgins? No, not after I threw his ass of the goals. Crabbe or Goyle? Fuck that, no matter how good of an actress I can be, that's asking too much. Mmm, Malfoy? He's great eye candy so it'd be fun, but he doesn't seem the type to play along, not to mention that weird sexual tension between him and Raven…so that leaves Montague. Yeah he'll do, he's not bad looking and he's a decent player. Alright lover boy, hold on to your knickers, you're about to be Gwenified.)

With the chosen one in mind, she stalked over to her prey, flirty innocence gracing her lips, a devilish feline gleam in her eyes. He looked up as she approached, a grin forming as his gaze drove around all her tight curves.

"Hey there, Lewis, something on your mind?" he asked, completely clueless about his eminent demise.

"I just wanted to say how well you played today. You're very good." She said with a Mary-sue flutter of her lashes. He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand, giving away his nervousness.

(Poor boy, this is going to be so easy. I almost feel bad. Almost.)

"You noticed?" he asked, unable to keep eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time. She swayed closer, placing a hand on his arm.

"How could I not? I couldn't help but admire the way you handle that broom of yours." She purred, rubbing her fingertip casually over his bicep. She slid a discreet peek at Marcus to find him giving them his deadly viper stare while still conversing with the team.

(Mmm, I love a man that can multi-task.)

Montague's cheeks were painted a faint pink at her praise, one boot scuffing the top of the grass.

"You were great too, despite Flint working you to the bone. You got some mad skills, Lewis."

Gwen giggled loudly enough to reach the ears of her object of torment. She stretched her arms luxuriously slow above her head, giving Montague a pouty frown.

"He was such a beast wasn't he? Now my body is all aching and sore…do you mind giving me a massage?" she asked in a breathy request. Montague's eyes widened like rounded saucers, gulping as she eased in front of him, sweeping her curls over one shoulder to present her back for his touch. He tentatively placed his hands on top of her shoulders, delicately squeezing and stroking; almost afraid that he might break her. Gwen let out a sigh of enjoyment, letting her lashes fall just enough so she could still watch Marcus's reaction.

(You teasing little bitch. How fucking dare she wave that pussy of mine in front of that fudge packer's face? Her "soreness" now is nothing compared to what I'll give her once she's alone.)

"Sorry I'm so wet, I get all sweaty after playing so…hard." She moaned out, causing Montague's fingers to falter slightly before picking back up.

"Uh…that's alright, I don't mind." He stammered. Flint's eyes bulged at the hardly subtle innuendo infusing her sultry words; at the way her damp shirt clung tightly to those firm, perfect tits, her hands clutching her skirt. A pulse pounded in his head and his groin as he remembered just how wet she got when he fucked his fingers into her tiny cunt. Gwen didn't know how much longer she could get away with her teasing, so she amped it up a little bit more.

"Mmm go lower, I need it all over me, please." She begged sweetly, crying out softly as Montague did as commanded, working his fingers slowly down her back, pressing firmly into the knots he found. She parted her lips to let a satisfied groan slip past, adding to Flint's ever growing rage, who was barely acknowledging anything Terrence was trying futilely to get across to him. Montague dug his knuckles into the small of her back, causing Gwen to shudder with a saucy squeal.

"Oh gods, you're so good to me. I want you to go harder and get in deep." She cooed, her lip pressed between her teeth, her head leaning back.

"Are you sure? I don't want to…uh…hurt you." He said, hesitance in his stuttering voice.

"You'd be surprised at just how much I can…take." She said, now looking at Marcus, licking her lips like the seasoned temptress she was.

(That's it. This shit is fucking over. That silly bint thinks she's untouchable after last night. She's going to beg forgiveness on her knees when I give her some much needed discipline.) He growled in his mind, anger shaking in his white-knuckled grip on his broom. He rolled his head slowly from side to side to work out the tension clawing at him.

"All you cunts get the fuck off my field!" he roared, startling the team with his ferocity. They quickly scrambled out of his way as his boots tore through the grass towards Gwen and Montague, who had dropped his hands as if they burned. Without any precursor, Flint cocked a fist back and shot it with sickening force into Montague's shocked face, the collision knocking him back several feet to lie prone on the grass; screaming as blood poured down his chin. Gwen watched, stunned at the violence displayed.

"Marcus, what's your problem?" she asked, knowing that her luck had run out; she'd pushed him too far and there was no one to save her from her folly. Marcus whirled on her, incensed at the idiocy of the question.

"Shut the fuck up, slut! You and I are going to have a little chat." He grabbed her hips with crushing force, making her yelp in pain as he hauled her up to sling her over his shoulder, marching away with her deliciously terrified body swaying against him with every heavy step.

He strode swiftly with his captive to one of the offices reserved for the Slytherin captain and bashed it open with one vicious kick. He yanked Gwen off his shoulder and shoved her inside. She lost her footing and careened into his gleaming wooden desk, the impact jarring up her sore body. She spun to face him as he prowled towards her, slamming the door shut with his heel behind him. Gwen pushed her hair back with a trembling hand before wiping her dampened palms down her skirt.

"Well, well, it looks like you're in my fucking domain. And guess what, kitten? There's nowhere for you to fucking run once you're tired of playing." He slowly walked towards her, an unholy glint in his onyx eyes, causing Gwen's mouth to run dry as she inched backwards slowly around the desk. His smile was unsettling; it contradicted the predatory nature of his expression as he kept an even pace with her.

"Ah, where's all you pretty words now, sweetheart? Have you just realized that you can't…fucking…TOY WITH ME!" he roared, pounding a fist into the dark wood, making Gwen jump at the sudden outburst. She licked her lips, holding her hands up defensively to ward him off as she continued her retreat.

"I-I'm sorry Marcus," she breathed, her chocolate eyes widening in a plea, "I shouldn't have done it. I'm,"

"Not as sorry as you're going to be, Gwennie. Now get your sweet ass over here. I'm not going to chase you all over this fucking office." He growled, hungrily eating up his vulnerable prey. She shook her head, blood pumping furiously through her body as adrenaline coursed through her veins. Marcus smirked at her small defiance, secretly pleased that she wouldn't make this easy for herself.

(What a little spitfire I have at my mercy. I'm going to enjoy taming her with all 8.5 inches she's got waiting for her.)

"Wrong answer, Lewis." He drawled; his tone reminiscent of a panther reading itself to leap upon the unwary. Gwen threw caution to the wind, bravely placing her hands on her hips, lifting her chin in a regal manner.

"You can't fucking bully me, Flint. You had it coming since that try-out bullshit you pulled. You just can't stand the fact that a woman, a mud-blood no less, took you down a few notches." As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth she knew she had made a grave mistake, but it was too late to snatch them back. In one lightning quick stride he reached her, crashing her body up against the wall, hard enough for dust to take flight through the air. She gasped as her breath was knocked from her lungs, unable to move when Marcus wrapped a hand firmly around her throat, not hard enough to cut off oxygen but to keep her pinned in place. He invaded her space by leaning in close, their noses almost touching.

"Do you love making me angry? Is that why you insist on pushing buttons in me, Gwen?" he growled harshly. She smirked shamelessly up at him, unafraid that he'd actually do any real harm to her.

"Maybe that's how I like it, Marcus. Not just any man is going to get what I have unless he fights for it. Until that day, I'm free to do what I want with who I want." Marcus curled his lip in a silent snarl at her for flinging her whore act in his face.

"I'm not just any fucking man, sweetheart. If you're taking any cock up that sweet pussy, it had better be only mine." His free hand shot forward to grasp one side of her shirt, ripping it open; the buttons popping off to land with small clinks on the hard floor. Her voluptuous breasts swelled above their tight satin restraints, the hussies demanding his full attention. He covered one soft mound with his large hand in a rough squeezing grope, eliciting a small moan from Gwen's lips.

"Don't forget who these belong to, Princess." He bit out, reaching down to suck her nipple through the thin material, leaving a sharp bite on the tip, intentionally to hurt her. She cried out, and in response he slapped her across the face.

"Keep your fucking voice down. I'm not nearly finished with you yet. You'll be doing plenty of screaming later." He warned, growing harder every second, anticipating what he would do to her delicate tightness. Gwen's womb clenched as she imagined how far he would go with her. She was helplessly ensnared in his dark seduction, escape no longer an option.

"What else do you think is yours…captain?" she whispered erotically, her dewy eyes gazing up into his implacable ones, her tongue gliding slowly along her bottom lip.

"We both know what that is, don't we, kitten?" he murmured, his boots kicking apart her legs to allow his hand access up her inner thigh. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of her satin thing and roughly tugged it down to expose her tightly furled petals. He captured her lips possessively, shoving his tongue inside to take what she so willingly offered. She moaned into his mouth, reaching her hands up to stroke his hair, wanting whatever he planned on giving her. Marcus tore his lips away, taking the hand that had held her by the throat, raising it to fist in her hair. He brought two fingers from his other to rim her wank-worthy lips. Instinctively she parted them and sucked his fingers slowly in, tongue snaking around them. His cock jerked in response, wanting to also slip inside her hot mouth, making her gag on every long, thick, inch. He removed his sodden fingers from her plump lips before reaching up again under her skirt. Without warning, not caring if she were ready, he forced both fingers all the way inside of her until his knuckles disappeared into her folds.

"Aaaah…Marcus!" she cried, her inner thighs quivering at the pain of being so abruptly stretched. He bit her hard on the side of her neck, further leaving his mark of ownership on the blank parchment of her skin.

"Gods, kitten, you're tight as a virgin every time. I'm going to have to work your pussy open for hours until I can get my whole cock inside of it." He groaned gruffly against her, his fingers twisting deep as they could go inside of her before thrusting vigorously in and out. Gwen bucked her hips into his hand, frantic moans clawing their way out of her throat, her juices beginning to flow to lubricate his entry with slightly better ease.

"Oh fuck yes, keep moaning my name, my little whore queen. I'm going to make you cum all over my fingers." He said, his thumb rubbing her clit while he continued to thrust into her tight, dripping hole. The pressure of something glorious built up in Gwen, increasing her pleasure to a fever pitch. He went back to sucking at her neck; muscles bunched in his arm as his hand worked her fast and hard, knowing she was near her end.

"Oh gods…Marcus…please make me cum…I want you, captain!" she gasped out, screaming as he brought her to the edge of the cliff, pushing her over. She fell into the dark ocean of her climax, legs shaking uncontrollably as he rode out her orgasm with his penetrating fingers, causing him to groan when her walls closed around him in a vice grip. Gwen slumped weakly against the wall, her legs nearly unable to support her weight. Flint removed his fingers from her snatch to savor the wet droplets running down them while gazing into her eyes intently. Gwen, feeling self conscious and at a loss for words, bent down to retrieve her underwear.

"Leave them. We're not done yet." He ordered, one boot sweeping her panties to the side. Her eyes widened, one unsteady hand smoothing her curls from her face.

"Yes Marcus, we are. You won okay? I learned my lesson. You got what you wanted, now I'm leaving." She stated firmly, edging around him. He laid a palm flat against the wall to block her escape.

"No…you got what you wanted. Now I'm going to get what you owe me." He grasped her hips and spun her around to walk her forward to his desk, promptly bending her over, one hand pressing down between her shoulder blades to keep her in place.

"Marcus what the fuck are you doing? Let me go!" Gwen demanded, using her hands to try and push herself up, but his strength overpowered her own.

"Shut up Gwen. I'm giving you what we both fucking need." He growled. She began to panic when she heard the rasp of metal sliding down metal as he pulled down his zipper.

"Marcus, no! Stop!" she yelled. Just as he flipped up her skirt and moved into position, a fist pounded on the door.

Draco milled about on the field alone, the rest of the team having left on Marcus's orders. He didn't understand why he was sticking around when he was so dead fucking tired, but for some reason he felt a niggle of concern for the girl his captain strode off with. He sighed, shoving a gloved hand through his damp hair.

(It's none of my damn business anyway. I don't even know what the hell fucking happened today.)

He snorted in disgust and walked in the direction of the castle.

(But she's Raven's friend…)

A voice whispered in his mind. Draco stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes.

"Fuck!" he burst out, turning on his heel to make his way back to the field. As he neared his captain's office, he heard a yell from inside.

"Marcus, no! Stop!"

"Shit!" Draco cursed, running up to the door, raising a fist to pound against it.

"Who the fuck is it?" Marcus ground out, backing away from Gwen to hastily shove himself back in his pants. She scurried away, straightening her skirt and quickly tying her tattered shirt together in a knot. Flint stomped over to the door, flinging it open, hoping that whoever was on the other side had prayed to whatever god they believed in that they wouldn't be six feet under within the next three seconds.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Marcus asked coldly. Draco slid inquisitive gray eyes from him to Gwen, who looked flushed and rumpled, noting her torn shirt.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked softly, unafraid of Flint's intimidating presence.

"None of your fucking business, you done here?" Marcus barked out, pissed that he couldn't lay a finger on Slytherin's Prince. Unless he wanted Lucius to pay him a visit and Avada his ass. Draco gazed at him with a look of aristocratic boredom, knowing he was untouchable.

"I just made it my business."

"Guys, it's okay, I'm just gonna go now. Marcus it's been…fun, but I've got better things to do right now." Gwen interrupted, before bolting past Draco. The two Slytherins stared at each other a moment longer before Draco turned, leaving the captain to himself. Marcus slammed the door shut, unable to comprehend that he had just been denied from his prize again. He let out an animalistic snarl before throwing his desk against the wall, breaking it in two. In the middle of the wreckage he spotted Gwen's discarded panties. Stooping down, he picked them up and played with the soft material with his fingers.

"This isn't over, kitten." He whispered before stuffing the garment in his pocket and leaving his trashed office behind.

"Move!" Gwen barked out rudely to a 5th year sitting next to Raven at the dinner table. The disgruntled girl glared and huffed, standing up to move farther down. Raven glanced up as her friend claimed the stolen seat, and then proceeded to steal her pumpkin juice, draining it swiftly. Raven quirked her brow and shook her head in amusement.

"Don't they have goblets at your table?" she asked teasingly. Gwen gave her a look and plunked the cup down.

"I have no desire to be over there at the moment, so yours had to do." Raven scooted her plate over, but Gwen waved her hand at it.

"Rough day?" Gwen groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"You have no idea. It was…exhausting…on many levels."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Gwen straightened, running her fingers through her curls, sighing.

"No, not really." Raven's eyes caught on her friend's neck.

"Would you like to tell me about that?" she asked, pointing at the bruise forming there. Gwen scrunched her brow in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" Raven rolled her eyes and poked the spot with her finger, causing Gwen to wince.

"That."

"Ow! Oh yeah…um…an accident at practice." Gwen hedged, not quite looking at her.

"What happened?"

"Er…I took a hit by a damn bludger." Raven's eyebrows rose in apparent disbelief.

"A bludger did that." She stated in a monotone.

"Yes." Raven started to laugh.

"Gwen how thick do you think I am? Try again." The Slytherin threw up her hands in defeat.

"Alright fine, I was snogging some guy."

"Why didn't you just say so?"

"I don't know."

"Well do I know this guy?" Raven asked, curious about her friend's new mystery man. Gwen cleared her throat and shifted in her seat.

"No, I doubt it. It was just some Slytherin." She lied. Hell, it was only a half-lie.

"Oh." Raven said frowning, disappointed.

"So enough about me, what about you? How have you passed the time today?" Gwen inquired cheerfully, changing the subject. Raven grinned with excitement, willingly distracted from the previous topic.

"It was fabulous! Blaise took me on a romantic date by the lake. A picnic and flowers, the whole shebang." Gwen wrinkled her nose at her.

"A Slytherin took you on a romantic picnic date? Ha, what a turtle-puss."

"Gwen!" Raven said, smacking her arm.

"What?"

"It was really sweet of him." Now it was Gwen's turn to roll her eyes.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Okay what's the deal? You haven't seemed to like him since you met him." Gwen shrugged indifferently.

"I have my reasons." Raven snorted while snagging a portion of treacle tart.

"And those would be?"

"Honestly Raven, I think he's a bit of a prat. You may believe the fluffy bunny act but when he's not around you, he just skulks about. He's like this cold lone wolf weirdo. Also I know for a fact he doesn't like me one bit."

"He did admit he was jealous, but come on, he can't be as bad as all that. You both barely know each other."

"I'm fine with that."

"Well, I'm not. I know, why don't the three of us have tea at Madame Butterfly's. Will you at least try for me?" Gwen hesitated to consider the offer. She highly doubted anything would change, but she would do anything for her friend.

"Okay, I'll go for your sake, but I can't make any promises." Gwen warned. Raven smiled and gave her a hug.

"Thank you, this means a lot to me."

"It better."

The threesome seated themselves in a cozy nook inside Madam Butterfly's tea and coffee shop. Raven spoke animatedly to Blaise who'd barely said two words to Gwen; which was mutual since the silence between the two was happily reciprocated. Gwen hailed down their waitress to get the ordering underway.

"What can I get for you dears?"

"Earl Grey please." Said Gwen. Raven turned and opened her mouth, but that's as far as she got before Blaise's smooth voice cut through.

"My lovely lady here will have your finest chamomile tea. No milk, no sugar. A splash of lemon. I'll take an Irish coffee."

"Um, what? Raven hates tea." Gwen stated, giving Blaise an "are you serious" look. Raven cleared her throat and pasted on a big smile.

"Don't be silly Gwen, I don't hate tea. Go ahead, everything is fine here." She said to the woman still waiting. The lady nodded politely before moving on. Gwen quirked a disbelieving brow at her friend.

"Since when? Every time I get you to try it, you give me the stink face." Raven kicked her leg under the table and gave her a "shut the fuck up" look.

"The tea bags weren't fresh enough probably."

"Yeah that's why." Gwen said sarcastically, reaching under the table to rub at her assaulted leg.

"So, are you two excited for the game against Hufflepuff?" Raven chirped, changing the subject.

"Well it's not going to be much of a game is it? I mean look at them. Not much going on there." Laughed Gwen, exuding supreme confidence.

"Oh Gwen, you're such a bitch. That's why I love you." A loud sniff came from Blaise's direction.

"You're very sure of yourself." He said. Gwen settled a cool gaze on him.

"I'm sure of my team's abilities."

"Ah, yes. Tell me, how did you wrangle a spot anyway? They don't usually accept new members they don't know, let alone a girl." he said, snark underlining his interest.

"I have actual talent, unlike others, who I guess didn't even try. So what do you do, Zabini? What are your hobbies when not with Raven?" before he could reply, the waitress returned to set their drinks in front of them. They thanked her before moving back to the conversation.

"So why did you decide to come to Hogwarts? Or was it not by choice?" Blaise asked, stirring his coffee slowly, evading the girl's question. Raven glanced longingly at it before picking up her tea.

"It was time for a change and besides, I couldn't just leave my best friend here with who knows what. Speaking of inconsequential things, she never mentioned you in her letter to me." Gwen jabbed with a smirk. Blaise sneered back.

"I was not aware she had a friend back home. She had been here for a couple of months before ever mentioning you. Interesting don't you think?"

"Hey! She is sitting right here. Can we talk about something else? Like…hey wait is that Harry over there?" Gwen turned to look where she pointed; sure enough Harry Potter was seated across the way with a girl with long black hair.

"Oi! Hello Potter and girl I don't know!" yelled Gwen. He looked up in befuddlement, giving them a wan smile. The girl twisted around to glare, her pale face blotchy and tear stained. Gwen waved before turning back around.

"Ew, it's that little hose pipe, Cho Chang." She whispered.

"Poor Harry." Raven said giggling. After that, the three continued to converse a bit longer. It became strained here and there, some of the topics aimed at each other, discreetly barbed. Other than that, Gwen and Blaise decided to behave themselves for the time being. Raven sighed looking from one to the other. It was slow going, but Rome wasn't built in a day. She took a sip of chamomile.

(God I hate tea.)

Draco roamed the halls alone on his after curfew patrol. Being a prefect allowed him time to himself, without the noise of his common room surrounding him or Pansy hanging off his robes like a leech. He really was going to have to do something about her. He couldn't round a corner without her being there to gnaw his ear off with her chatter. He laughed without humor to the quiet darkness.

(I suppose I deserve it for leading the girl on. I just wanted to make Raven jealous but it didn't even work. Now I have to clean up my mess. Dammit, why does that little Ravenclaw have to be so infuriatingly stubborn? And Blaise has to be such a ponce about everything. I made a move first for fuck's sake. Then he had to swoop in to look like the hero in Potions. The idiot hates mud-bloods as much as I do, or more!)

Draco paused his inner ranting to shove a hand through his hair in agitation. Ever since Blaise got with Raven he'd been distant with all his friends, which were few. Then after the Quidditch game he'd stopped talking to Draco altogether and became more isolated and secretive.

(It's not the same Blaise anymore. I mean he's always been the serious type but it's strange and different now. I never know where he goes anymore. He's silent and cold and sometimes blank. Unless he's with Raven of course. Then he's all smiles…except for his eyes. They stay dead.)

Draco shuddered at the disturbing thoughts ransacking his mind.

(All the more reason why she needs to leave him and come to me. I don't want to watch him smother the warmth that I lo-…like so much. Whoa there Malfoy, where are you going with this?)

Draco rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, rounding the corner into none other that Pansy Bloody Parkinson. Draco jumped slightly as the light from his wand illuminated her face.

"Pansy what the hell are you doing here?" he asked rudely.

"I came to talk. You've been avoiding me." She whined. He rolled his eyes and pushed past her.

"Go back to your room Parkinson; I don't have time for you."

"Draco, don't you dare walk away from me. If you do, we are officially over!" she screeched, stomping one foot. He whirled around in frustration, his gray eyes like chips of ice.

"We were never together you stupid cow! Get it through your head. I. Never. Wanted. You." He said, pausing after each word to make sure it sunk in.

"You used me?" Pansy gasped in outrage.

"Now you're getting the hang of it. Since we've got that settled, you can run along now."

"Who is she, Draco? Who's the whore that took you from me?" she demanded, her eyes feverish with hate.

"She's far from being a whore Pansy. Something I'm sure you don't understand." He snapped, turning again to leave. Realization dawned on the girl's face.

"It's that bitch, Raven, isn't it? All this time it was her!" Draco didn't answer, but his silence spoke more than any words could say. He started to walk away for the last time.

"You'll pay for this, Malfoy! You'll both pay!" she screamed, the insidious venom in her voice reverberating through the darkened hallway.

A dark lone figure was bent over a pile of dusty volumes, frantically flipping through yellowed pages, muttering to itself. The glow of candles in the quiet study cast eerie shapes on the walls, the flickering light seeming to give them life. Book after book was tossed aside until the figure slumped in its chair, releasing a heavy sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of its nose. How was one to find the answer, when not even the question was clear?

(I know I've seen it before. A lost dark object with death clinging to it's past. Now I know I've seen it for the second time. If it's the same, a student's life may well be in danger.)

With a renewed sense of urgency, the man bent over the last book, Cursed Items in Magical History A-Z. Halfway through, a ray of hope filtered through the clouds.

(There is one man who might know what I'm looking for, and the best place to find him is…Knockturn Alley.)

Whooo, how do you guys like DEM applez! Please don't forget to give reviews! I miss hearing from you guys! 3