Eliza's first class of seventh year is Potions.

She sits next to Asajj Ventress, a fellow Slytherin with a short pixie cut, extremely pale skin that makes Eliza sometimes wonder if she secretly has vampire genes, and an intimidating glare that's intense enough to spook the Bloody Baron. In the row behind them are Cody and Ahsoka, and Rex isn't far away, either. The rest of the classroom is scattered with a variety of seventh-year students, all from different Houses but all in the classroom to take N.E.W.T. Potions. By the front of the classroom, the Potions professor, Professor Dooku, lurks as he always does, pacing around and lecturing about the lesson material, his robes sweeping and his silver hair heavily slicked back with gel in a hairstyle that makes him look permanently bald from certain angles.

It's about ten minutes into the lecture, and Eliza can't help but tune Dooku out—she already knows all about the Draught of Living Death, having heard enough about it from Cody's incessant blabbering on certain random Potions throughout the years to probably write a ten-foot-long essay on it. Instead, she turns her head slightly, observing her surroundings and taking in the room around her.

The gray stone walls of the classroom, which are lined with wooden shelves and cupboards, curve upwards to create a domed ceiling. An array of jars containing pickled animals, mysteriously bubbling liquids, and various other potions ingredients don the shelves, and black matte desks are scattered across the classroom, each fit with two matching stools that are currently occupied by the students in the class.

In one corner of the room is a student supply cupboard, and in another stands a gigantic basin. A stone gargoyle is crouched atop of the basin, a steady stream of water pouring out of its mouth. The few candles littered across the walls shine light throughout the classroom, though it clearly isn't enough—there's a dim, hazy atmosphere all over, which is only helped by the fumes that are steadily rising from the large black cauldron at the front of the classroom. Behind the cauldron is a blackboard that stretches from one wall to another, with scribbled chalk instructions visible upon it and a fat leather armchair to its side.

Dooku is in the middle of pointing at the large black cauldron at the front and loudly proclaiming about the properties of the Draught of Living Death when the door opens with a BANG!, and Anakin Skywalker walks into the classroom.

At the sound, Dooku stops lecturing, and he, along with every single student in the room—Eliza included—turns to stare at the newcomer.

Up until now, Anakin Skywalker has completely slipped Eliza's mind. After the Start-of-Feast ended last night, she dimly remembers seeing him disappear into the mass of students leaving for the dorms from the corner of her eye while she'd been making her way to the other side of the Great Hall towards the Gryffindor table. Her, Ahsoka, and Cody had stayed back, mingling with Rex and their Gryffindors friends so they could all catch up—after all, with Rex and Cody being siblings, they interact with each other's friends fairly often, which meant that throughout the years, Eliza and Ahsoka had also gotten close with a good bit of Rex's Gryffindor friends.

After a grumpy Grievous had kicked them out of the Great Hall for "loitering" at the end of the night, the hallways had almost been empty with the closeness of curfew looming by then, and they'd had to rush back to the Slytherin Common Room. Eliza and Ahsoka had waved goodbye to Cody at the top of the stairs in the back of the common room that diverged into two—the boy's and girl's dorms—before going up the split path on the right and entering the dorm they shared with Aayla, Barriss, and Asajj. Eliza had gone to sleep stomach full, content to be back at Hogwarts, and the name Anakin Skywalker forgotten, far from any crevice in her mind.

Now, though, as she stares at the figure by the doorway, she realizes just how tall Anakin is.

Being of average height, Eliza isn't short by any means, but Anakin seems to tower over her, even from a distance. She hadn't noticed yesterday, since he'd been sitting down in the Great Hall, but she can estimate he had a good eight inches over her at the least. His height is only exemplified by his lean stature, with his sweeping robes and broad shoulders seeming to fill out the entire door frame.

Eliza supposes it's not just his physical height but his aura, as well—it's like he can command attention without even moving or talking. She notices a few curious Ravenclaws next to her whispering and glancing at him, and another pair of Hufflepuffs are looking at him with slightly slack jaws. Meanwhile, Sabé and Dormé are not-so-surreptitiously nudging each other at the front of the classroom and giggling; at the desk adjacent to her friends, Padmé is staring at Anakin with an almost bemused expression, like she can't comprehend that one single person can automatically direct so much focus onto himself with just his presence.

Anakin opens his mouth, probably to spew an excuse for his lateness—

Dooku beats him to it, however, eyes gleaming as he hurries over. "Ah! You must be Mr. Skywalker, our new student."

Eliza sees the unbridled glint of eagerness in Dooku's eyes and has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Dooku is known for collecting students like prized possessions, and she doesn't even need Legilimency to know that he's imagining this new, mysterious, and handsome student as a possible addition to his trophy case of talented, clever, and well-connected students.

Anakin dips his head slightly, his hands folded behind his back and a few strands of his brown waves brushing against his brow bone. "I'm sorry for arriving late, Professor," he starts, and the thickness of his American accent is glaringly obvious. "I've been in Headmaster Jinn's office since this morning sorting a few things out. He accidentally put me down for regular Potions and had to adjust my schedule to put me into this N.E.W.T. Potions class."

Dooku practically swoons. "Not to worry, Mr Skywalker!" he says excitedly, ushering Anakin towards the middle of the classroom, right towards the empty seat next to Rex. "Here—have a seat next to Mr. Fett."

Eliza grimaces, and she's not the only one. Rex holds the greatest record in Hogwarts history for the number of blown-up potions in class, so Eliza doesn't even know why he signed up for N.E.W.T. Potions. Everyone, even Rex himself, knows how horrid he is at Potions—except Anakin, who sits down and gives Rex a polite nod, oblivious to the sad, apologetic look the boy is aiming at him.

Eliza suddenly feels a poke to her upper arm. She turns to see Asajj staring at Anakin intensely.

"Who is that?" Asajj whispers.

"New student," Eliza murmurs. In response, Asajj only stares at Anakin harder, as if trying to read him by glare alone.

Unlike Sabé and Dormé's giddy stares, Eliza knows Asajj's is one of scrutiny only. After all, Eliza knows that a large source of pride for Asajj is the fact that she's maintained the highest mark in Potions of their entire class for the past six years, so even the possibility of someone swooping in to dethrone her from that is a point of worry.

It turns out, however, that any concern Asajj has regarding Anakin is all void.

"Time's up!" announces Dooku loudly an hour later, after he'd assigned them all to brew the Draught of Living Death in pairs at their desks. Eliza and Asajj had finished ten minutes early, and as Eliza watches Dooku bustle around the classroom, inspecting each pair of students' potions, she feels pretty confident in their work.

Sure enough, when Dooku reaches Eliza and Asajj's desk, he gives a nod.

"Well done, Miss Ventress and Miss Walsh!" he says approvingly.

Eliza is pretty competent in Potions herself, but having Asajj as her Potions partner is just an added perk of less stress. She winces when she thinks back to when she tried sitting next to Ahsoka in fifth year—she'd never been subject to so many up-close potions explosions in her life, almost enough to rival Rex's streak. Ahsoka herself had volunteered to sit next to Cody in Potions from then on, which worked fine anyway, since Cody—as an aspiring potioneer—prefers getting all the potions experience he can get and is content with letting Ahsoka just read directions to him during brewing.

As Dooku continues down the row of desks, Eliza notices a trail of dark smoke floating through the air. She follows it, frowning, until she finds herself staring at the cauldron in front of Anakin and Rex. Both boys look resigned—even Anakin is glancing down at his potion with a passive expression on his face.

"It's not looking good for Skywalker," she hears Ahsoka whisper from behind her.

Sure enough, as Dooku ventures over, his steps slow down, and he cautiously peers into Anakin and Rex's cauldron with a frown. Eliza and Asajj share a smirk when they see Dooku's visible disappointment at not being able to add another shiny trophy to his collection.

"Well," Dooku says weakly. "I suppose there is room for improvement, but I applaud the effort."

He then moves onto the next pair's cauldron, and the gazes of the other students in the classroom move with him as he tests out the potion, but Eliza finds that her eyes are stuck on Anakin.

To her surprise, she sees his jaw clench tightly as he stares down at his own failed potion.

Hm.

After class, when Eliza walks out of the classroom with Asajj, Ahsoka, and Cody, it doesn't take long before the topic of the conversation turns swiftly towards Anakin.

"Why would he leave Ilvermorny though?" Eliza muses, fiddling with her House patch on the front of her robes, deep in thought as they weave through groups of students walking in the corridor in the opposite direction. "Just to come halfway across the world for his last year of education?"

Asajj hums. "That is really weird. And inconvenient."

Ahsoka squints at the tall figure of Anakin walking alone in front of them in the corridor, a good few steps ahead so that he's conveniently out of earshot. "You think something's wrong with him? What if he actually got kicked out of Ilvermorny or something?"

Eliza considers it. "Maybe?" She shook her head. "But from what Aayla said last night, it sounded like his mum just withdrew him and sent him to Hogwarts without any major reason."

"Maybe it's because he isn't a pureblood," Cody suggests.

There's a pause as they all stare at him.

"Uh, what does blood-status have to do with this?" Ahsoka asks in confusion.

Cody shrugs. "I remember reading a statistic somewhere when I was researching for a class essay that said that pureblood families are more likely to keep their children's institution of study constant with where they studied so that the family bloodline stays continuous with one educational institution. If what Aayla said about Skywalker's mum sending him here is true, then maybe it can be attributed to his family values not aligning with pureblood ones." He pauses. "Though I don't know how direct that correlation is.

At Cody's words, Eliza can't help but perk up. "What if he's a half-blood like me?"

As surprising as it is, Slytherin half-bloods are a minority in her year, along with Muggleborns—other than herself, Eliza only knew of one other seventh-year Slytherin half-blood. Ahsoka is the only Muggleborn in the House, while Cody and most everybody else she knows are purebloods. While it's not like Eliza's ostracized for her blood status or anything, it would be nice to have just another half-blood her age in Slytherin.

"Why don't you just ask him?" asks Asajj, ever so practical.

Eliza blinks. "Ask him if he's a half-blood?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. I—well, I mean, it's—awkward," she stammers.

But even as the words come out of her own mouth, she feels befuddlement rising in her chest. After all, why doesn't she just ask him? It's just a simple question out of curiosity with no malicious intent, and it's not like Eliza has trouble socially communicating with anyone. She's never had any problem conversing with or getting to know new people, so why can't she just approach Anakin, tap him on the shoulder, exchange introductions, and ask him?

But for some inexplicable reason, just the mere thought of doing that makes her heart rate increase rapidly.

Asajj looks at Eliza casually. "I'll just ask for you then."

There's a good second that passes as Eliza processes what exactly Asajj is implying before her eyes widen and she launches forward. "Asajj—wait, what are you—"

Her protests fall on deaf ears.

"Hey, Skywalker!" calls Asajj loudly.

"Asajj, no," Eliza hisses desperately.

Too late. In front of them, about ten feet ahead, Anakin turns at the sound of his name, as do practically all the other people in the corridor due Asajj's loud voice. Even the group of girls with Padmé, Sabé, and Dormé—who've all been walking a few steps ahead as well—pause their conversation to look back at Asajj.

Asajj points directly at Eliza. "My friend here was wondering what your blood status is."

Every pair of eyeballs in the vicinity swivel onto Eliza, Skywalker's included, and she wants to melt right into the floor, both from the sudden attention and Asajj's extremely-misconstrued question. She senses Ahsoka and Cody's commiserating glances from next to her—they're familiar with Asajj's blunt nature, and they know when it's hopeless to stop it.

Eliza forces herself to laugh, a painfully-awkward noise that almost seems to echo in the otherwise quiet corridor. "No, that's n—"

"Why do you want to know that?" Skywalker's voice cuts through defensively, carrying through the air. His eyebrows are pulled down dangerously as he stares directly at Eliza, having stopped walking.

Great. She tries not to gulp. Now he probably thinks she's sort of pure-blood supremacist who actually cares about people's blood statuses. A wonderful first impression.

She opens her mouth to clarify that she only was wondering if they shared the same blood-status, when he interjects again:

"I'm a Muggleborn, if that matters to you," he says, his stare positively lethal. Even with the short distance, his eyes are piercing, and they seem to bore dark holes straight through Eliza's body.

Oh, brilliant. She fights the urge to throw herself out the nearest window. "No, it—"

"Ooh!" interjects Sabé from the side, perking up. "I heard Muggles like to go to beaches." She flutters her eyelashes at Anakin, twisting her long hair. "Do you like going to the beach?"

Eliza hears Ahsoka scoff next to her.

Anakin directs his frown onto Sabé, looking at her as though she's a slow hippogriff. "I don't like sand," he says bluntly, before turning away and leaving a puzzled Sabé standing there. The blunt nature of his response almost makes Eliza laugh before she remembers her current predicament and sobers quickly.

"Anyway," Anakin continues, staring hard at Eliza and giving her absolutely no time to get any words out. "I'm not interested in explaining my blood status to you. I don't believe that's anything of importance to you at all." He gives her one final glare, the tone of finality in his words ringing clear, before whirling back around and turning into a side corridor to the left, disappearing from view and leaving her standing behind and staring at where he'd just been standing, swallowing a sour taste in her mouth and wondering what in the world just happened.

"Well," says Asajj neutrally, looking at Eliza. "Now you know he's not a half-blood."