Chapter One

Warmth from the nearby fireplace seeped into Noemie's skin as she was curled in the sofa, a muggle book in her lap. She felt it sink slightly as someone sat down next to her. Her muscles tensed reflexively, and she had to remind herself that she was in the common room. In the common room was safe. Mostly.

Besides, once the initial instant of tension left her body, she recognized the familiar scent of Frank's cologne. Frank was the definition of safe. He was too gentle to hurt anything or anyone, which was why Noemie loved him so much. She could never tell him the secret behind the tension though, because the one thing Frank couldn't handle was injustice. Injustice fired him up, and he would take some kind of action which, in this case, would only result in harm being done to both of them. She'd seen his fire time and time again when younger students were being picked on by those older than themselves. But as strong as Frank was, and as much as he protected the younger students, he was no match for her parents.

"If you're not careful, you'll fall asleep down here again," Frank told her, his own book open on his lap.

Noemie cracked a careful smile. "And? You never seem to mind waking me up."

"I'm going to bed early today," Frank said. "Alice and I are studying in the morning so I have to get up earlier rather than later."

Noemie shook her head sadly. "A downright shame. Now I'll just have to sleep in the chair all night."

"And risk a crick in your neck? Don't you have to use it when you play quidditch?"

Noemie shrugged. "There's not practice until tomorrow afternoon. I can get it out by then."

"You're insufferable," Frank said, chuckling softly and shaking his head. "I'm going to bed in twenty minutes. You should too."

A sad smile almost emerged on her face. She needed to stay awake, until the common room emptied out and she was able to leave. "I'll be alright, Frank, really. I'll make it to bed eventually.

"Whatever you say," Frank said, turning the page of his own text.

They read side by side, silently, for twenty minutes until Frank went upstairs, just as promised. Noemie sent him off with a gentle wave, and looked around the room at the others still scattered about the Gryffindor common room. In an alcove, she could see James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, and she could hear their laughter echoing throughout the common room.

When she was a little girl, only nine or ten, she'd dreamed about nights like these after hearing her father's stories. He told her about the way friends would gather in the common room, laughter bouncing off the walls, albeit in the dungeons. She'd fantasized about nights like these, about the freedom she would find, the separation from her father. At the time, he'd worked at the Ministry. Now, he worked at the school. He'd been lucky - or, as Noemie suspected, had prompted the luckiness - that the Astronomy teaching position had opened up the summer before her first year at Hogwarts. It meant he could follow her. It meant she couldn't escape.

The only problem with the quartet sitting in the alcove was that they would make her late. Her father punished lateness. She had once explained that she hadn't been able to sneak out in time for their meeting, but he hadn't cared. He never did.

Noemie thumbed the page of her book, carefully turning it over so she could read the next paragraph. She sent furtive glances at the groups of boys, the last stragglers in the room. If they would just move, just for a moment, she could slip out unseen. She knew how to stay in the shadows. And having a professor for a father meant she could get away with things - perhaps he'd sent for her and she was simply fulfilling her good daughterly duty by going to see what he needed.

After another twenty minutes, the sound of shuffled footsteps filled the room, and the laughter started to move up the stairs to the boys dormitories. Noemie let out a soft breath, one part relief, one part anxiety. Now it was time.

She stood and stretched, rolling her neck to release some of the stress. She picked up her shoulder bag and slipped the book inside, taking a few quiet steps toward the doorway to the room. She sent one last wary glance around the common room to confirm that it was empty before she slipped out the portrait and started on the long walk to her father's quarters.

Her father's quarters, conveniently located near the entrance to the Astronomy Tower, was private and far enough away from any of the common rooms that Noemie was unlikely to meet anyone on her way there. The worst she'd come across was a stray ghost, who didn't pay her any attention. Sometimes she encountered Peeves, which was more unfortunate, but they seemed to have an understanding. He could cause all the mayhem he wanted with her during the day, but at night, Peeves left her to her own devices. Somehow, she had yet to be caught by one of the other professors, which was truly a miracle. She knew Professor McGonagall was a stickler for the rules and would gladly give her detention even if she gave the excuse of going to see her father.

Her father. Noemie remembered the first time he'd ever hit her. For some reason, even though she was well aware of things like the Cruciatus Curse, he'd never used it on her. He preferred to feel the impact of his first on her flesh and see the bruise that it left behind. His tools had enchantments on them, which meant her back was littered with scars, but that was the extent of magic's influence.

Noemie assumed he picked up the quirk from her mother, who was equally violent. But her mother was a muggle, so she didn't have magic to use. Noemie assumed their violent tendencies were what pulled them together in the first place, and what kept them together was inflicting abuse on their children instead of each other.

Her brother, Benji, was the reason Noemie continued to show up at her father's quarters once a week. The second she'd started to show the slightest resistance, her parents had threatened Benji, who was blissfully unaware of the violence. Noemie was determined to keep it that way. Her little brother was probably asleep right now in his Slytherin dormitory, never the wiser about what Noemie did for him. They were close, but less so than they'd been when Noemie was younger. She knew that if he spent too much time with her, he would start to catch on, and she would risk her parents' wrath.

She could hear her own soft footsteps echoing in the empty corridors. A few paintings, disturbed by her soft wandlight, glared at her and berated her about being out of bed past the curfew. Noemie could have walked the path in the darkness with only the light streaming in through the windows to guide her, but she kept the wandlight on because maybe, one day, someone would catch her, and the whole plot would unravel.

The door to her father's chambers looked like any other wooden door in the castle, but Noemie was acutely aware of the knots in the wood, the small scrapes, and the way the brass doorknob had lost all of its shine.

She took a deep breath, raised her hand slowly, and then knocked on the wood.

It took approximately five seconds for her father to pull the door open. "Noemie," he said, pulling her into a hug that simultaneously made her heart leap into her throat and drop down into her stomach. For a second, when he hugged her, she could pretend that he loved her the way a father was supposed to. "You're late."

He pulled away, giving her a stern look as she entered the chambers. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, not meeting his eyes. He didn't like it when she made eye contact with him. "Some of the boys were awake and were sitting next to the door. I couldn't leave."

"Not to worry, we'll deal with it later," he said.

"I understand," she said. "And I'm sorry."

"Sit," he instructed her, gesturing to a small round table in the corner of the room. "Have some tea."

Noemie took her seat at the table, the steaming cup already in place. She put a hand on it, fighting to keep it from shaking. The buildup was the worst part. Waiting for him to strike was the worst part. Noemie sipped the tea, the cup shaking slightly and making a small clattering sound against the tea saucer.

"Tell me about your week, my sweet," he said, sitting down across from her and watching her intently. Noemie knew by now that he liked to see her squirm. Every meeting was different. Sometimes, as soon as she walked into the room and the door was closed, he would strike. Other times, he would chat with her, making her wait.

"It was normal," she said slowly. "Since we've only been back for a week, there isn't too much homework yet."

"But you'll keep up your marks?" he asked.

"Of course," Noemie said. It was yet another requirement of her deal with her parents. She couldn't give any indications about what was happening. Which meant she stayed well groomed, she earned strong marks in her studies, and she kept up appearances as best she could.

"That's my girl," he said. "When will practices start?"

"Tomorrow," she said. "Our first practice is tomorrow. James Potter is the captain now, he wants us to get an early start."

James, like herself, was a chaser, and had joined the team in their second year. Now, as seventh years, they were the team members who had been there the longest.

"He's smart," her father observed. "You're lucky to have him as a captain."

"I know," Noemie said, smiling slightly. "He's a good captain. He's a good friend."

Before she could raise a hand to defend herself, her father reached out and slapped her. He'd slapped her harder before, but she still cupped her cheek, eyes widened, shocked.

"Keep him at a distance," he instructed.

"I know, Father, I do," she promised, slowly lowering her hand to reveal the angry red handprint. "I keep everyone at a distance."

"Because if you don't…"

"I know."

Her father sat back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he watched her. His lips slowly slipped into a grin. "That resolve. Fascinating. I knew once you were sorted that we'd be able to come to an agreement."

Noemie just waited, confident he had more to say. "Your mother was so thrilled when I told her what being a Gryffindor meant. That blind loyalty. Your brother would sell you out in a second, but you refuse."

He moved his chair back, standing up, pouring more hot tea into her cup. "Drink that."

Noemie put the cup to her lips, hands shaking as she took a sip. The tea was bland. Noemie felt more like she was drinking hot water than tea. It burned her throat and tongue as she ingested it.

"Professor McGonagall and I were discussing possible future careers for you," he said. "Since you're so… talented… in Astronomy, I think it would be wise to consider a research position at the Ministry. The good news is that I could rejoin my old department and be your superior."

"Okay, Father," Noemie agreed. She had no interest in Astronomy or working for the Ministry as a researcher. But Noemie had never given a career much thought, knowing that she needed to do whatever her parents told her until Benji left school himself. Once he did that, she was confident it would be safe enough to remove herself from under her parents' watchful eyes.

"That's my girl," he said again. "Stand up, Noemie."

Noemie rose from her seat, not too sure what he wanted from her. But the intense blow to her stomach answered her question.