"Are you even listening?"

No, in fact Lilith wasn't listening to Cordelia ranting about her current romantic situation, or lack thereof, because she was tired of hearing about it.

So, she was going to take a stab in the dark. "Elenora Bardot is a troll and you're much prettier?"

Cordelia huffs. "I guess you were listening then."

Ignoring the tasteless eggs growing cold on her plate, Lilith found herself staring at her friends own congealing breakfast rather than at her face, if only to avoid Fred's occasional gaze from over the blonde's shoulder. Cordelia was too busy ranting to notice, her only focus on the other end of the table where Phlegm was leant over Bardot, brushing whisps of hair from sharp face with that slightly slanted nose Cordelia couldn't stop talking about as they laughed with the other seventh years.

Lilith had only glanced over once after being instructed by Cordelia to do so to look at 'sickening display', unfortunately it was at the same time Xander had looked over too, a rather smug smile on his face as he slung an arm over Lionette's shoulder, which she prayed wasn't for her benefit. It seemed to be a relatively new development considering just a few days ago he was rubbing up against her like a crup pup in heat at that very table while she had shoved him off, but she had discovered them after heading to the common room to retrieve a forgotten book when she had seen them splayed out on one of the sofa's, hands in clothes and deep kisses with tongues. Lilith had spun around and retreated to her room; her herbology homework would have to wait.

She assumed it would feel strange, maybe spark a slight hint of jealousy. She was trying to recall the feelings she felt with her saw Fred with Angelina despite the fact she never actually saw them do much more than hold hands or sit together in the great hall. She remembered the burning in her chest, how hollow her stomach felt, but as she lay on her bed playing it over in her head trying to decide how it made her feel, she realised she hadn't felt much of anything, except some sort of strange relief.

At least she wouldn't have to see Fred's angry glares from across the hall anymore or listening to him mumble about how he was going to ring Xander's neck when he didn't think she was paying much attention. She had slightly bigger things to worry about than Fred's not so subtle jealously despite the fact it made her heart race slightly.

Lilith picked up a bit of toast and forced herself to eat it, swallowing the dry lumps as Cordelia's cheeks turned an angrier red as she continues to glare down the opposite end of the table.

"I don't know why you care so much." Lilith finally says as she flicks a crumb of toast from her arm. "He's a prat"

She had picked that up from Fred. He was always calling people it. Percy was a prat. Phlegm was a prat. Ron was a prat. Snape was the biggest prat of all.

For Xander he had slightly less becoming vocabulary.

Cordelia's jaw tightened as her head snaps to her. "You don't know him. You sit there all judgemental, but you don't know him like I do."

Lilith scoffs. She imagined trying to use that excuse regarding Fred, already knowing what reception that would receive. Cordelia would probably try to have her locked up in St Mungo's if she ever found out. So, she swallows another lump as the blonde continues to stare down the other end of the table, the pity for her friend growing with each passing second.

"It's so utterly pathetic." Cordelia says through angry teeth. "He's only doing it to make me jealous."

She wasn't going to mention how well it appeared to be working, she refused to add wood to that fire.

Since their first interaction six years ago, she had always known what a complete and utter arsehole Atticus Phlegm was. He didn't call her Death eater like the rest of the school did, that would be slightly hypocritical given his own parents history, but he was one of the only Slytherin's to call her Lunatic Lestrange, and he used it frequently. In fact, he called her it so often she was certain he had to be the one who came up with it, and she really hated him for it, for coming up with a name that even now people called her, even the fucking first years knew it.

Sometimes, in the common room, when Phlegm was on one of his tirades or sprouting his general nonsense, she sits there with her arms crossed and scowl on her lips as she stares at him and she starts to think about the blood that had poured from his nose, the childlike noises he made when Fred had punched him in the face over and over and she can't but smile to herself as she stares at Phlegm's now slightly crooked nose.

She didn't understand Cordelia's obsession with him. But on the other hand, Cordelia would never understand her thing with Fred.

Thing. She didn't even know what else to call it.

She wished she could ask her about it. Ask about the strange feeling she felt in the pit of her stomach when she was with him, or not with him, or when she lay in bed at night starring at the curtains surrounding her bed and thought about Fred in a million different ways. She looks at Cordelia now and she wants to blurt it out, she desperately wants someone to talk to about it because she feels like she's going to shatter from feeling too much at once.

"I'm going to make him jealous." Cordelia says with complete and utter defiance. "Two can play at that game."

On second thoughts, she'd rather talk to Professor Snape.

Despite the awful rain the greenhouse is already sweltering hot. As Lilith takes her seat her eyes pull over to Fred who's deep in conversation with George. She doesn't hold it long as she tugs her book towards her and opens to page on fluxweed. She had made Fred promise to keep whatever was going on between them as quiet as possible. No staring, flirting, touching or even joking with her when anyone was around, those were her exact words and she had made sure not to smile as she said it just to show she meant business. Fred just grinned the entire time as he listened before leaning down, cupping her chin as he placed a long slow kiss against her lips, promising he wouldn't.

And he kept to his word. Most of the time.

She was envious of it really, the fact he would stare at her, even smile at her and not fear the ramifications in the slightest. Most of the time she was too terrified to even glance over in his direction in case anyone noticed.

"Switch with me please."

Lilith turns her head towards Cordelia who is leaning against the edge of bench, almost hovering over her seat.

"Why do you – " It hits her, she sighs. "Adrian, really?"

"I know he likes me." She says with a smug smile. "Besides it won't be a proper thing. Just a bit of light flirting"

"Phlegm isn't even here for you to show off for." She doesn't mean for it to come out so coldly, but Cordelia shrugs, barely noticing.

"I need to build up to it so I can do later on. Besides, who else am I going to use, the ginger nuts?"

Lilith wants to laugh, but the sudden thought of Cordelia latching onto Fred makes her feel nauseous.

Cordelia waits expectantly and Lilith finally scoots over onto the next stool with a roll of her eyes, gaining a cheerful thank you as Cordelia takes her seat.

She notices the twins in the distance and watches Fred as he pulls his own jumper, his shirt riding up slightly and she catches a glimpse of a patch of hair trailing down his stomach.

She feels almost startled.

"What's wrong?" Cordelia asks and Lilith feels the embarrassment overwhelm her.

"What? Nothing."

"Your cheeks have gone really red."

"Because it's a like someone has cast incendio in here." Lilith says sharply to end the conversation and starts to tug at her own jumper.

Cordelia turns back, suddenly distracted by Adrian as he walks into the greenhouse and Lilith is pleased the focus is lost from her. She presses the back of her hand to her cheek feeling the warmth and starts to hope that people assume it's from the humidity and not because she's suddenly picturing Fred Weasley in the way she only did when she was alone in her dormitory.

Her eyes quickly flitter across the green house, but he's too distracted by his brother to have noticed. She breathes a sigh of relief.

The class is tedious, she despises herbology but had taken it at the instant of her uncle despite the fact she could barely keep anything alive. She finds it easy to ignore the strained laughs from Cordelia as she continues flirting with Adrian who seems to be lapping it up, she was used to it by now. She stares out of the greenhouse walls watching the fat drops of rain slide down the glass, but she can't stop thinking about Fred, trying to picture what he looks like since the idea she had built up in her head is now suddenly wrong. It was only recently she had started thinking of it, ever since their rendezvous outside of the girl's bathroom when his hands hand slipped up a little further than they usually did and when she had felt…well, she was trying not to think about that part now, but it didn't seem to be working. She can feel it pooling in her stomach again, almost burning.

It pleased her more than it probably should have to know she stirred up those feelings in him.

She can't help but look across the greenhouse. He's staring down but as if he can sense it his eyes move up to meet hers and she feels her cheeks burn again. She forces her head away and waits for what seems like an eternity of staring out of the window, down at her notes, anywhere that isn't in Fred Weasleys general direction before she allows herself to do it once more and sure enough, he's looking at her, smiling softly.

Despite the slight trepidation she can't help but allow herself to smile too.

Lilith's convinced he does it on purpose. Finding the smallest cupboards for them to sneak away in. He probably scouts beforehand, always choosing the ones they would barely fit into so their bodies are forced to press together. She reckons it wouldn't matter though. Fred always pulls her close, his hands almost glued to her as they try to move underneath clothes and against skin. It didn't matter where they were, closets, classrooms, even by the black lake, he always pulled her close.

Fred seemed to be slightly obsessed with touching her in one way or another.

Potions was the most dangerous place he would try it. She would feel his hand slide over on the bare skin of her thigh, just under the edge of her skirt from beneath the desk. His fingers would grip at her flesh and his thumb would gently brush against her skin, back and forth, forcing her stomach to flutter, all the while she sat there and acted like he didn't even exist.

Lilith leans against the wall outside of the classroom, smiling to herself as she thinks about their encounter after Herbology. The slight moan from Fred as her teeth grazed his bottom lip, the long-drawn-out kisses that made her slightly lightheaded.

The smile disintegrates when she remembers lying right to his face.

Well, not a full lie. Fred had assumed she had orchestra practice and she hadn't corrected him. She knew the truth would gain a much worse reaction and she wasn't sure she was ready for it, for the look for disappointment or anger or whatever he had prepared for her.

She wasn't ready for Fred to hate her just yet.

She finally feels the chill in the hall and pushes herself from the wall, dropping the jumper to the floor as she fixes her top button and shirt sleeves. As she stares down, she realises the jumper at her feet is Gryffindor red instead of Slytherin green. She picks it up, her thumb brushing over the lion sewn into the fabric and lets out a breath as pulls the wand from her skirt and taps the fabric, watching the red bleed into green and the lion emblem transform to a snake. It would last a few hours at most, and at least people wouldn't question it if anyone did see.

She tugs it on and pulls her hair out, suddenly very aware it's Fred's jumper she was wearing. The faint smell of gunpowder that always seemed to linger around him seems more prominent than before, even when they had been stuffed in that small closet together. His warm lips gently caressing hers crosses her mind as rolls the sleeves up, so they don't hang loose over her hands.

This feels so much more intimate than whatever they had just been doing in that closet.

She shakes it from her mind as she enters the empty classroom, glad for a moment the professor isn't there.

It gives her time to breath. Maybe come to her senses. Prepare herself for what's about to happen.

She doesn't know why she keeps doing this to herself.

Professor Moody had come to her with the idea, searching her out in the back of the library. She had been reading that stupid book for the third time when she should have been studying, and she remembers her stomach dropping when he stumbled around the corner. He had proposed it then, Occlumency lessons of all things. He told her he could help her become skilled in it, study the craft. She had sat at the table staring up at him, bile rising in her stomach as she declined his offer, noting the look of anger in his eye and the corner of his mouth twitch. He had pushed, calling her scared, he also called her weak.

It had taken every ounce of willpower in her body to not fling the book at his head.

Lilith should have declined again but her self-esteem was getting the better of her at the thought that Mad eye of all people went around assuming she was so utterly pathetic.

She desperately wanted to prove him wrong. At least she thought it was him she was trying to prove it to.

The more she read about occlumency the more appealing it seemed. She still had nightmares about the lesson, that overwhelming feeling of powerlessness as her body moved of its own will no matter how much she screamed. The knife in her hand as she sat upon Fred – how she almost…

"You're late. I told you last time Lestrange."

He's at the top of the stairs and her eyes flicker up to him.

She vowed never to let anyone do that to her again. Even if it meant learning from him.

Everyone loved mad eye and his eccentricities, but she couldn't help how he made her skin crawl. Fred was aware of it too, but he had just as much reason to hate the professor as she did. It wasn't really something they had discussed; it had briefly just popped up in conversation, but she didn't want to talk about it and thankfully Fred never pushed it.

The first lesson hadn't been too bad, surprisingly. She would annoyingly admit that despite her hatred for Mad eye he was a rather good at his job. They had spent the hour with her managing to block him out, but she could tell he wasn't pushing hard enough, not as hard as she wanted him to.

There was only five weeks of school left, how was she meant to learn anything in that time. So, their last lesson she had asked him, plain and simple, test me, stop holding back.

And he did.

And it hurt.

As she lay in bed that evening Cordelia's light snores had felt like a drum in her skull. She could still feel it, the thumping in her head as the professor tried to break the wall. Pounding. Pulsating.

But she managed to keep him out, so maybe the pain was worth it.

The next day she had been sat on the edge of the black lake with Fred, feeling the exhaustion slowly slip over her, the migraine still throbbing in her skull. She had wated to stay curled up in bed, but the pull of Fred Weasley was much more alluring. He nudged her arm gently as she stared out at the water, asking her what was wrong, and she softly muttered something about a headache from too much studying. He stretched his legs out, patting his lap with a sly grin. Lilith had side eyed him for a moment, watching him as he rolled his eyes.

"Trust me" He said with an innocent smile as if he could almost sense her hesitation, but as she stared at him, she realised she did, more than she probably should. With a sigh she scoots over, laying down hesitantly so her head is now in his lap. Hr body immediately tensing as he started to gently run his fingers through her hair, unuse to the sensation, it set her nerves on edge. He mumbled something about his mum doing this when they were kids, but she was concentrating too much on how much she was starting to like it. She had spent countless moments with him, all incredibly intimate, but this felt more so for some reason that she couldn't quite place.

He gently rubbed her fingers against the sides of her head before leaning own and placing a kiss on her temple and the gentleness of it made her heart race. "You need to stop studying so much." He hummed it against her skin before placing another kiss. She squeezed her eyes tightly trying not to react, the quilt flooding her chest for not telling him the truth.

That was new.

She feels it eat at her now as she stared at mad eye.

"We should get started. It's not like I have all day." He mumbles as he hobbles down the stairs.

Lilith remembers the pain from last time, not quite sure she's ready for it again. She realises she still has a chance to leave the classroom, head back to her dorm, maybe go and find Fred. Her head turns back towards the door as she hears him clang down the staircase. There was still time.

The professor limps to the shelf where he grabs his flask and takes a swig. He looks back at her, flicking his wand and a chair shoots over next to his desk, Lilith finds herself staring at it. "Take a seat then." He insists.

She feels sick as she sits down, eyes flickering towards the door.

Too fucking late.

"Are you ready?" He asks, at least he was doing that now.

"Right now? I thought – maybe – "

"Spot of tea first?" He says in his usual condescending manner. "Would you like a biscuit? Perhaps a scone? Or would you like to learn how to become a better witch Lestrange?" He says her last name rather affectionately, it makes her skin crawl.

She looks down at the sleeves of the jumper which have rolled down and she's suddenly aware of how it engulfs her. She rubs her fingers against the slightly frayed fabric, wishing she was in that cupboard with Fred, that he had managed to persuade her to stay. The feel of it against her skin is oddly comforting.

"No. I just thought – I have questions. That's all."

He cocks an eyebrow. "What sort of questions."

She takes in a deep breath, hating every second of this. She tries to match his intense stare, but it makes the bile rise up her throat.

"Why are you so interested in teaching me this?"

He settles back in his chair, his eyes….eye….she could never quite tell, still locked onto hers. "Why do you think?"

She's not sure anymore. It's hard to decipher what she feels about certain things…certain people. Everything feels so utterly confusing

"Well, you said I may have a natural talent for it but…in that lesson, if not as if I was able to resist initially. I had to fight to get you out of my head."

"But you still fought, didn't you. There are many people that wouldn't. They would just…reside to their fate and accept it, accept there wasn't a damn thing they could do."

She can tell he's speaking from experience as he's stares through her, and she feels the chill run through her blood.

"Did it happen to you, professor?"

He glances over to her, his eyes – eye, almost seething with resentment although his face remains expressionless. She felt her body go rigid as the regret seemed to seep in from the line of questioning.

The professor stood up and moves to the other side of the desk and she immediately shifts her body back along with the chair that scraps along the floor and makes a piercing noise throughout the classroom. She should have run when she could.

"Remember Lestrange." He says it slowly as he pulls his wand from his pocket. "Clear mind."

She was trying, but the smell from the jumper was too much of a distraction and she's suddenly horrified at the idea of Mad-eye seeing all those private moments with Fred.

He flicks this wand and all she feels is pain.

It's searing. Blinding. Her nails dig into the wood of the underside of the chair. It feels like he's burrowing through her skull with his bare hands, and she can feel the wall start to crack slightly.

It stops suddenly and she forces herself to breathe again.

"That was just a taster girl. Painful, was it?"

The realisation hits that he's punishing her, and she wishes she had kept her mouth shut.

"Yes." She manages to spit out as her eyes flicker open. The way he's staring at her with complete disgust make's her skin crawl.

"I can see it cracking. You're not trying."

Lilith forces herself to look at him, the bitter rage is so visceral she can almost taste it. "I – am – trying."

"Not hard enough. I can see that wall of yours coming down Lestrange. You're not even trying."

"You're pushing too hard."

"Do you think they would go easy on you? Do you think the Dark Lord would go easy on you."

It takes a moment for the words to sink, she even sure he trembles slightly.

"What do you mean by that?"

He turns away from her and pulls the hip flask out, taking a swig.

Lilith stands from her seat, her legs shaking slightly. "Professor, what did you mean by that – "

"ENOUGH!"

She immediately steps back at his raised voice, her legs knocking against the chair as her hand slowly crawls to the pocket of her skirt so she can reach for her wand, although she doesn't know what good it would do.

She should have stayed in that damn closet.

"You're here to learn girl so start learning – start trying – "

She takes another step back and the chair falls over with a clatter. "No. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't – "

"Because you're weak. Every time I look into your mind I can see it, the wall crumbling."

"Well it hasn't fallen yet has it. I've managed to keep you out in every lesson. You haven't seen a thing."

She regrets every word that comes from her mouth as the statement hangs in the air. His eye twitches as she stares at her, his tongue darts across his lips as he takes a step towards her.

"Then perhaps I'm not the one trying hard enough."

She's never experienced pain like it, she can't even force the scream to leave her throat, it sticks in her chest, the wall in crumbling.

No. No. No.

"Stop! STOP IT!"

She breaks the connection, falling to her knees and gasping for air as her lungs start to burn. She looks up at the professor who is leaning against the desk, struggling to stand.

"What was that?"

She stares at him despite the fact it hurts, she's struggling not to burst into tears. She can feel them hot and heavy behind her eyes and if she was alone in that moment, she would have allowed it. But not in front of him, never ever.

"What. Was that." She says with clenched teeth.

"YOU"RE NOT TRYING."

She is trembling now, her hand shaking violently as it slips into the pocket. She grabs her wand tightly.

"Please - I want to stop – "

"NO! Do you not know who you are, what you are? You're a Lestrange! Your mother – "

She flicks her wand and large glass orb on his desk suddenly takes flight and smashes into the side of his face and glass shatters to the floor.

Lilith scrambles to her feet, rushing for the door, slamming it behind her.

Her eyes lock with Fred on the other end of the corridor.

She takes off down the corridor, humiliation flooding her chest. Her head pounding.

"Lilith!"

She can't, not right now, she can feel the tears building. No no no no no.

She hears his footsteps, feels his hand on her arm, spinning her around.

"Hey! Hey what the fuck's going on?"

She's still shaking violently, her eyes burning. His eyes lock into hers.

"Lil – what happened?" He asks as he cups her face with his hands.

And with that small action she bursts into tears.