Note: As in the books, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are co-ed schools.

Chapter 8:

Senna's POV

"Go to bed." Tonks said with her most authoritative voice.

"Fine." Senna huffed. Tonks relaxed at the sound of defeat in her voice. She wasn't expecting her next attack, though. Senna quickly leaned in for another kiss, successfully capturing her lips. She earned a whimper of surprise from Tonks. Her lips felt marvelous, warm and gentle against hers. And although it lasted a tad bit longer than the first kiss, it was cut far too short. Tonks pushed her away, her hands strong and hot against the bare skin of her shoulders. Senna shivered at the contact. She hasn't realized how cold she was until Tonks was no longer pressed against her.

Tonks looked down at her, her cheekbones touched with color, her sepia eyes dark with lust and accusation. Senna knew that when Tonks opened her mouth, that she would be in trouble. So she flashed her an apologetic smile and darted out of the classroom before Tonks could gather her thoughts.

"Senna!" Tonks hissed, but Senna was already out in the corridor, and the classroom door was closing behind her.

She stopped and closed her eyes, listening to any sign of Peeves or Fitch. She opened her mind as well, hoping to catch the thoughts of anyone before they could catch her. It wouldn't be much use against an Auror, since most of them knew occlumency. When the coast was clear, she cast a disillusionment charm over herself, and made her way back.

That next morning, when Senna woke, she was surprised at the lighthearted feeling that spread from her chest, to the tips of her fingers and toes. Usually, the gaping hole in her chest from years of estrangement and loneliness would claw at her first thing every morning, sucking the happiness from her like a hungry dementor. But there was no such feeling. She felt warm. Warm in the places where Tonks had held her the night before. When she reminisced, she could almost feel her embrace, her strong arms squeezing her tight, the warm skin of her neck, and the sweet scent of cinnamon and vanilla.

She couldn't remember the last time someone had been that close to her physically. In fact, she didn't think she'd ever been hugged before. The caretakers at the orphanage had never been affectionate. And she had never been close enough to anyone at Brownwell for even a friendly hug.

It was nice. Her hug. Her touch. Her lips…

Oh my god her lips. Just remembering her lips sent a jolt of arousal through her.

Senna had more free time. While Hannah and her friends had class, she had a free period. Too much free time. It left her mind free to relive Tonks's kiss—which was bad if she wanted to be productive.

She found herself in the library, reading a recently returned copy of Hogwarts, A History. The Triwizard Tournament, a magical contest between three schools of wizardry, last took place in 1792. The Goblet of Fire, a very old and powerful magical object, would be responsible for choosing the best champion per school. It had been discontinued due to the high number of deaths of it's participants.

Things were different now. There would be four schools participating in the tournament, and all participants must be of age. How would they enforce this of-age rule? Senna wouldn't find out until a week before Halloween, when the Goblet of Fire started taking names.

After free period, she had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. This, she particularly enjoyed. Hannah and Ernie teamed up with her, and together they got Hiwiggle extract from Hiwiggle leaves. Justin had to go to the hospital wing when his herbology partner, Susan, accidently squirted him in the face, causing him to turn an interesting shade of magenta. She and Hannah laughed, and made a mental note to keep some of the stuff to drop on Zubeida's head, because she kept flicking Tiger-nut shells in their direction.

The awful feelings of turmoil the night before was forgotten. She was preoccupied by the events that took place afterwards. The very lovely kiss that she had stolen from Tonks. And how her body felt pressed against her, it made her hot just thinking about it. She replayed it over and over in her mind. Especially that second kiss, where Tonks had kissed her back. It lasted only a moment, but she felt it, the strong movement of her lips—insistent but gentle.

The day passed with flying colors. Lee Jordan didn't approach her all day. Perhaps he had gotten the hint that she was no longer interested after he had gotten her in trouble. She barely even registered the Brownwell bunch that looked at her as if she were a pustulating boil.

Dinner was full tournament-talk. Hannah and Susan were gushing over Cedric Digory, a very handsome seventh-year who planned on entering his name.

"What do you think?" Hannah whispered to her, her eyes locked on Digory. She followed her gaze to the boy, who was laughing among his friends. He was indeed very handsome—or maybe cute was the best word. He had a boyish face, a tall and lean—but muscular build that helped fill out the extra years.

"Attractive," she agreed, "But not my type."

Hannah frowned. She thought Digory was flawless, and should therefore be everyone's type. "What is your type?" Hannah asked her, "Dark and gloomy?"

Senna laughed, "I'm not sure what my type is. It's just not any of these boys." She looked between Digory and Jordan with a disapproving expression.

"You should hear what the boys think of you, you could have any one of them." Hannah told her.

Oh I do hear, Senna thought with a shiver of disgust. And that was not necessarily true. The Brownwell boys would rather walk on hot coals than date her. Seeing herself through the thoughts of others made her aware of her own physical attractiveness. The boys of Hogwarts, and even Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, were often awe inspired by her above average good looks. She had pale skin, a slim and perfectly sculpted jawline, full lips, and high cheekbones. Senna took care of her hair, making sure the wavy black locks hung perfectly groomed and silky smooth before the left the dorms. While the Brownwells gawked in fear of her, the others who were less informed of her reputation, gawked for other reasons. She was tall for her age, strode with confidence, and it helped to have full breasts and a skinny waist. She wasn't too skinny—she exercised and kept herself well-toned. She wasn't one of those witches who relied solely on magic and let their bodies become frail.

She would give anything to hear what Tonks thought of her. She was certain to a degree, that Tonks wanted her. She saw it her eyes. She felt it in her warm touch. She felt Tonks's yearning pouring from her. Or at least, she thought she did. She could be wrong.

"I don't want any of them." She insisted.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. Is she even human? Hannah thought.

Senna sighed and began to shovel more dinner into her mouth.

As if this topic conjured some sort of bad luck, a stocky Gryffindor boy with disheveled red hair approached the Hufflepuff table. She recognized him as one of the twin boys from Defense Against the Dark Arts. He threw Senna a wide grin. One whiff of his thoughts told her everything she needed to know about his visit. Upon spotting him, Hannah winked and turned to talk to Susan.

"I heard things didn't work out with Lee." He scratched the back of his head nonchalantly.

"Nope." Senna glared at him, waiting for him to cut to the chase. She was no longer in the mood to make friends with boys. Not when she had Hannah, who was guaranteed to not try and get into her pants. "Who are you?"

"Fred," He smiled, "And I want to assure you, I am much better behaved than Lee over there," he jabbed a thumb towards the Gryffindor table, where Lee Jordan was sulking, "So if you would like to meet up together for Hogsmeade, I would be glad to give you a tour." He finished with a wink.

"No, I'm going with Hannah." She lied quickly. Although it may end up being true, if Hannah and her lot were planning on going to Hogsmeade that day.

"Right." He sighed. "Well, if you'll excuse me." He turned around and returned to the Gryffindor table.

"Hmmm, so troublemakers aren't your type either?" Hannah snorted.

After dinner, Senna waited for the dinner tables to clear as usual. She waved goodnight to Hannah and her friends. When the tables were nearly empty, and the staff started to rise, she made her exit. She followed the voices of the Brownwell students, hoping to catch a flash of maroon in the dark corridors. Unfortunately, she made it all the way to the dormitory without seeing that clumsy, but incredibly sexy Auror.

Senna laid in bed, thinking about the previous night. She thought about Tonks's hands, and her lips, and how good it felt. It was strange, how intense her lips felt, like an electric current passing between them. Was it supposed to feel like that? If so, she would never again make fun of the girls who daydreamed about snogging boys. She wanted it again—needed it. She even contemplated sneaking out again to see her on patrol, but she knew that would do more harm than good.

All these thoughts were having adverse effects on Senna. Thinking of the kiss, the feel of her, the lust in her eyes, left an undeniable heat between her legs—and it was becoming more intolerable by the minute. It was all she could do to stop her own hand from slipping underneath her waistband to soothe the fire. She couldn't do this. She felt oddly exposed, even with the curtains around her bed drawn to a close. By the murmurs and giggles of the other Brownwell girls in the distance, she knew she wasn't alone in wakefulness. And if she touched herself now, when her flesh ached desperately for a pairs of hands that were not her own, she might just scream. And the last thing she needed was for the Headmaster to come running into the dorms.

That next morning, she had Defense Against the Dark Arts. She sat dutifully next to Viola Richmond, who ignored her. During their last class, she had seemed frustrated with her inability to cast a perfect nonverbal shield charm. And even more frustrated that Senna outperformed her. She wasn't used to being outperformed. She was a prefect, and used to being the best.

"Good morning," Senna tried, "how's the shield charm coming along?"

Viola ignored her. Senna caught a good portion of her thoughts, even with her back facing her. She had noticed Senna's great performance in potions, and Snape's almost-compliment, and it infuriated her. Before Senna, she was the top in Snape's potions class.

That would explain the bitterness emanating from her. Her shoulders were hunched and her hands gripped the textbook a little too tightly. Wasn't she too bitter? Senna had been nothing but nice to her. It wasn't her fault that she was good at this. It wasn't like she had poked her in the eye with her wand or something.

"You know the drill!" Professor Moody's voice echoed. He stalked the classroom, hobbling on his wooden leg. "Partner up. Nonverbal shields and jinxes. Quit lagging!"

Senna knew Viola would be too bitter to consider her as a partner, but decided to try anyways. "Want to partner up again?"

"No." Viola stood, her auburn hair splaying around her shoulders. "I'm partnering with someone else today." Without looking at Senna, she turned and stomped away.

Senna sighed. She looked around the room, scanning for potential partners. In the time it had taken her to ask Viola, everyone else had seemed to find someone. She walked down the aisle of students, hoping to find someone without a partner. But no luck, everyone was taken.

"Aha!" Senna jumped at the sound of Professor Moody's voice. He limped up behind her. "No partner today?" He sneered in a gruff voice. "Well then you'll be with me." Senna's stomach felt uneasy. She had nothing against this ex-Auror, but it was hard to look him in the eyes, especially with one magical eye that kept rolling back into his head to see behind him. She gulped nervously, but stepped forward.

She wasn't even given a chance to prepare herself. Without warning, Moody drew his wand so quickly Senna didn't have time to draw her own. A silent spell hurtled towards her, and she had no choice but to dive towards a set of desks. Senna had plenty of practice dodging—she had the orphanage to thank for that. All those times she had stolen food, and barely managed to escape the guards. The next spell shattered the window behind her as she rolled behind a desk. Several shrieks of surprise echoed through the classroom

"Not bad. Remember, constant vigilance! An enemy will never wait for you to be ready, so never let your guard down!" Moody moved forward, stepping noisy towards where she hid.

Another spell sent the desk flying away, leaving her exposed. Several more shrieks came. This was probably not his normal routine. But Moody was unpredictable. Her wand was drawn, and she was ready for him. Protego! She screamed in her head, and the jinx collided with her shield in a dazzling display of lights. It was too close, a millisecond later and she would have taken the jinx in the face.

He did not stop throwing jinxes. She tried to regain her stance, but the concentration required for nonverbal spells and the difficulty of the shield charm wore away at her stamina. She could feel the limits of her magic waning. The fourth or fifth jinx he threw had nearly broken through. Mad eye Moody was not afraid to hurt her. She had to do something quick, or she would really take a nasty jinx or hex.

She tried to fit in an attack between shield charms, but the interval between his spells were too short. She could not shield and attack at the same time, so she sent a disarming spell at him while diving out of the way of his jinx. It missed. Damn.

The whole class was watching them now. They were all backed up against the walls, afraid to get caught in the misfire.

"C'mon. I'm getting bored here. If I were a Death Eater, you would already be dead." He threw a particular nasty hex in her direction. She barely managed to dodge, and it left a basketball sized crater in the stone floor.

Senna gritted her teeth in anger and exertion. This was getting dangerous. Desks, books, and papers flew in every direction. All it took was a stray desk to give someone a concussion. But Moody did not bat an eye, his wand arm swung relentlessly, throwing hex after hex at Senna. Sweat dripped down her face and neck. She was losing. Her wand arm was tired. Her legs burned from diving and scampering out of the way.

That's when she noticed the jar of spiders behind him, sitting on his desk. Reducto! Senna thought, aiming at the spell at the jar. Thinking she missed, he let the spell whiz past him.

Bam! The glass jar exploded into a thousand pieces, sending spiders and glass in every direction. He whipped his head back at the sound of the students screaming in terror.

Now was her chance! She lunged forward. Expelliarmus! She yelled in her head. Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus! Too bad he could see behind his head. With a flick of his wand, he guarded himself with a shield.

And then a miracle happened. He took a step to the side, his wooden leg slipping on the broken glass as if it were marbles. He stumbled and attempted to regain his balance.

Expelliarmus! She tried once more. Distracted in the attempt to keep himself upright, the spell hit and his wand flew out of his hand, landing with a very satisfying clatter onto the floor.

There was an eerie moment of silence that followed. She stared into Moody's disfigured face, sweat dripping down her chin. He made no move to pick up his wand. Her burning legs threatened to give out, but she would not let herself fall now.

The students against the wall were silent, looking between her and Professor Moody. The only sound in the room was the occasional groan of a desk still crumbling.

Then, he began to laugh. It was an awful sound, like a horse choking on something foul.

She blinked at him with both surprise and terror. The way his face contorted as he smiled, with the chunks of missing flesh and deranged scars, it made him even more terrifying. In fact, his laughing face was many times more frightening than his scowl. The others must have thought this as well, because nobody laughed with him.

"Well done!" He laughed, "Now that is what constant vigilance looks like." He lumbered over to his wand and pointed it in the air. The desks repaired themselves and zoomed into their original places. The disarray of broken glass and parchment flew to their original states, torn pages returning to their textbooks, and in a matter of seconds, it was like the brutal duel had never happened. The classroom was back to normal.

That morning's duel had made her the celebrity of the day. By lunch time, there was not a soul the news hadn't reached. Students from every house stopped to ask her details, to confirm the latest gossip, and Hannah had to shoo them away.

"Is it true that you took out his other eye?" One Hufflepuff asked. "That's what Mclaggan said."

No, she was about to answer, but the next curious student had already pushed their way forward.

"Is it true that not a single hex touched you?"

Yes, that was true, she thought to herself proudly. But just like last time she did not have time to answer before the next question had blurted out.

"They said—"

"Enough!" Hannah scowled at the second-year who spoke. She was angry about the crowd that had gathered around them, and simply wanted a quiet lunch. "Senna is not answering any questions. So think whatever you'd like! It doesn't matter." She spat before turning my shoulder to face the lunch table.

Yes, a quiet lunch is what she wanted after that exhausting morning. She could not stop feeling gratitude for this girl. It filled her with warmth to think there was someone in this world, even if only temporary, that she could count on to stand up for her. It made her realize how deprived she'd been. All the knowledge and magical power in the world could not give her what Hannah's friendship did. And for that, she was grateful.