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QUICK NOTE: To anybody who has only just stumbled onto this story… hi, and I'm glad to have you, but this is the second instalment in a series, and you'd best read the first one to avoid serious confusion. Head to my page and go to 'Confessions of a Teenage Death Eater: The Catalyst'.

Enjoy!

…..

Perhaps it was a reaction to the events of the previous year- perhaps it was a belated rebellion, but for whatever reason, as I went into my fifth year at Hogwarts, I changed a little. My mind was swirling with images of my mother, so cool and confident. So free. I knew that to survive seeing everybody again, I would need to be like that. And yet, the more I read of Sirius' manuscript, the more I resented her. Always so cool, always so confident, always so free….. until she had to leave him. Then she practically broke.

And as I watched (through Sirius' eyes) as she formed such close bonds with Lily Evans and James Potter, my heart screamed with frustration, just one, lone word of confusion – why?

Why had she left such good friends behind?

If she truly didn't care, why join the Order at all?

If she loved Sirius, why leave him?

And most of all, why did she then choose to leave me? My resentment for my father switched almost overnight to a burning hatred of my mother. I don't know if Sirius had on some level realised that his manuscript would raise questions just as quickly as it resolved others, but it did, and the more I read, the more I wanted to tear my hair out and cry.

They seemed so normal to me, so inevitably together. And yet it had all gone wrong. Not just because of my mother, but a huge part of me apportioned the blame to her. She had left, not him. He'd followed her. Time after time, he'd followed her wherever she went. And it was so very difficult to accept, after all this time, that perhaps my saintly mother had been just as much at fault as he had been for the demise of their relationship. For years I'd hated my father and idolised my mother, but Sirius' story tore huge holes in the image I'd had of her. Now I realised that I hardly knew her at all, and of course now never would. All I had were the impressions of a man who'd been at times absolutely blinded by love and at other times absolutely full of loathing. It wasn't a reliable picture, and if anything it made her actions seem more and more confusing, more difficult to work out.

But it wasn't just her who was cast into doubt.

I watched as Sirius fell in love with Maman, little by little. I saw their first kiss, their fights, the skinny dipping in the lake, the night at the club. But at the same time, I couldn't ignore Remus also falling for her. Perhaps harder. It made me feel… uncomfortable. Wildly so, in fact, as I recalled the way he'd acted around me. The shock when he'd first seen me at the station, the care he'd taken of me at the hospital wing. The way he'd called me 'Lee' during the battle. I'd thought at first that he'd just felt affectionate towards me – conceitedly, I'd assumed that he was a nice man who'd taken a shine towards me, maybe because I was witty, or smart, or good looking. When I found out that he'd been friends with Sirius Black… well, I'd assumed that he didn't care about me, just about my father. That his affection for me had really stemmed from his love for Sirius.

Now? Now I felt like the only reason he'd ever been nice to me wasn't because of my personality or my father, but because my face was so much like my mother's. And that was the worst explanation yet. It was worse than the idea that he only cared because of Sirius Black – at least in that explanation, he still cared about me. If it was Maman's face which drew him to me, well. That meant that he was basically pretending I was somebody else. I wasn't Estelle, I was an imitation of Aurelie. And that hurt more than I'd thought it would.

And Harry, too. Harry had read this manuscript, I knew that much. I didn't know just how much he'd read, or how much he'd understood, but the thought made me feel uncomfortable. Once again, we shared a connection, one that no amount of bitchiness on my part of naivete on his could break. We were the only two who'd read Sirius' account, and we were the two who'd been, in some way, his children. Sirius had linked us together, despite my best efforts. Had I managed to remain indifferent, had I approached the manuscript as I would a textbook and formed no affection or feeling towards Sirius, then it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't feel any obligation to Harry, or any bond at all. But I couldn't help but like Sirius as he had been, and when I added to that the fact that he was my father? Well, how could I ignore Harry then?

And so, I felt closer to Harry (to my absolute disgust). And that was made even worse as I read the myriad of off-hand comments that Sirius made about the two of us. About how he'd wanted his and James' children to marry, how he'd always thought Harry and I would be friends…. That made me feel sick, for a number of reasons. First, obviously, was that all of a sudden I felt as though I were ignoring my father's wishes by ignoring Harry. Secondly, though, and this was painful, I couldn't help but wonder if Harry had only been my friend for that brief time because he thought Sirius wanted him to. I'd felt like I could be myself with Harry, and that he'd like me anyway, but had he really liked me at all?

I was in turmoil.

In that mess of hormones and confusion, the first day of school finally arrived. I hadn't seen Draco since Diagon Alley, but the house-elves had placed all my school supplies in my room, and I'd thrown them haphazardly into my trunk.

The truth was, I realised, as I sat on the window sill with my legs dangling outside, banging against the wall (Lucius would have absolutely killed me if he'd seen) that I didn't know what to expect. School was routine. School was normal. School was a break from worried faces and sleepless nights.

But school was also the last place I'd been before my world was turned upsidedown, and I wasn't sure I wanted to return there. The Estelle who'd walked the halls of Hogwarts was so utterly different to the Estelle who was sitting precariously on the outside window sill. That Estelle had had a mother whom she loved, and who loved her. That Estelle didn't have a father. That Estelle had friends who trusted her, and teachers who found her amusing, if frustrating. That Estelle kissed Blaise til she was breathless in abandoned classrooms, but secretly watched a certain Gryffindor idiot with messy hair and brilliant eyes.

This Estelle had a mother who hadn't truly cared, and a father who would have loved her if he'd had the chance. This Estelle's friends weren't sure what to believe, and her teachers wouldn't trust her. This Estelle wasn't allowed to look at that Gryffindor, and wasn't sure she even wanted to.

What was left of me? Since reading Sirius' manuscript, I couldn't help but identifying every little quirk or personality trait that I had, and placing it under either 'traits inherited from Sirius' or 'traits inherited from Maman'. My smiile, my laugh. My sarcasm, for crying out loud. All of it was them, so what was me? Especially now that the me who'd been ignorant of them, and therefore entirely independent, was now gone?

Annoyed by the same questions which had been swirling around my head for the past week, I swung my legs back inside the window and tripped across to the vanity table on the far side of my room. It was asleep, thankfully. Lucius had chosen it for me, and though it was an elegant piece, it was far too opinionated for my liking. It hated my clothes, and was constantly bemoaning my inability to comb my hair properly. But it was better than the wardrobe. The wardrobe had a tendency to eat the clothes it didn't like. After the Zabini ball, I'd put my dress back inside it, and the next day it had vanished. The same thing happened to my huge combat boots and my favourite scarf.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and felt my heart seize up a little. My face – yet another thing that wasn't really mine. With a sigh, I checked it off into the 'traits inherited from Maman' column. I looked so much like her. The shape of my mouth, my skin. The little dimple in my cheek- even my eyebrows. We could be sisters, her and I. Most of all because of that hair. The long, blonde curls, like something out of a fairytale. Stupid.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Her life was no fairytale. Not when she was young, not when she was a kid, not when she was an adult. So, what, was the hair meant to be ironic or something? Some sort of moral about how you shouldn't judge a book by its cover?

Fuck it. Fuck it all. She was no fairy queen and he was no king, and I sure as hell was no princess.

And just like that, without thinking, I grabbed a hank of my long, blonde ringlets and sliced it off with a pair of scissors. As the blades went 'snick', and the long hair landed on the counter with a light sort of 'poof' noise, I blinked in shock.

And then there was silence for a moment. I looked again at my reflection. I looked.. bemused, as though waiting to see what my own reaction would be. Still holding the bit of my hair I'd just cut in half, I blinked slowly. And then went cross-eyed. And then poked out my tongue. The much shorter bit of hair in my hands looked odd against my otherwise perfect ringlets. It was still wavy, but it curled only slightly, a little flick up at the end. It barely looked like it was mine.

Without thinking, I raised the scissors again. Snick. Snick. Snick. It happened so fast I barely knew I was doing it. When I glanced back at my reflection, I saw that I was smiling. A malicious little smile. A cruel little grin.

I also saw that my hair was shorter. Much shorter. I'd chopped half of it off around my shoulders. It barely brushed them now in an uneven, jagged cut. My reflection was still smiling. I raised cold fingers to my mouth, just to check. But yes, that manic smile wasn't a trick of the light- it was mine.

It was at that moment that my vanity woke up, "oh, dear." It gasped, "oh. What on earth are you doing to your hair!?"

My smile got bigger, "shut it, antique," I said in biting French, "wait til it's done before you start whinging."

And then I raised the scissors again.

Draco and Narcissa were sitting in the parlour when I came downstairs. Well, skipped down stairs, missing ever second step and grinning like an idiot. I hadn't seen either of them in days, and they hadn't seen me. And I couldn't wait for their reactions.

"About time," I heard Draco say, "we thought you'd make us miss the train… oh."

His reaction seemed a little restrained. Narcissa, however, didn't disappoint. She spat her tea across the settee and her eyes widened in shock. "Oh, Merlin," she said, the least composed I'd ever seen her, "Estelle.. your hair."

I shot her a grin, "brilliant, isn't it?" I asked with a wink.

She didn't answer. Can't say I blame her, it would have been a slight shock. My hair, til just recently reaching to my lower back, now fell just below my shoulders in a thick, lustrous mass. The long, Botticelli-esque ringlets I'd sported were gone- now my hair was gently curled, and messy as could be.

It was also jet black.

I'd been more than a little annoyed while I was cutting off my hair- the mirror wouldn't shut up, just couldn't seem to let it go. So I took it a step further. One spell later and my eyebrows and hair were blackest black. You'd think that, after being born a blonde, black hair wouldn't suit me at all. But somehow it did. My skin looked paler, sure. But the pink in my cheeks stood out, too. And my eyes? They looked positively silver.

"You look like…" Narcissa began.

With a dazzling smile, I finished for her, "my dad? Yeah, I thought I might. Wicked colouring he had. Glad to know I could pull it off." The truth was, I'd made a choice. I didn't want to be like my mother, and I realised that I didn't have to be. If I had to be one of them (and judging from the fact that my whole personality seemed to be a patchwork quilt of bits of theirs, I did have to be one of them) I would be like my father. I'd been my mother for far too long – it was time I stepped out from her shadow, and into a shadow I hadn't tried before. My father's.

"What in Merlin's name inspired this?" Draco snapped at me, but I could see that he looked at least a little amused. That alone made me sure I'd done the right thing – Draco liked to think of me as his crazy little cousin, and if me acting out made him happy for a while, then I'd act out more than ever. "You look terrible."

I sniffed. "I do not." I insisted quickly, summoning my suitcase with a flick of my wand. It tumbled down the stairs and flew open onto the floor, dumping my belongings everywhere. Not letting my embarrassment show, I flicked my wand again, sending the books and clothes back into the suitcase. "I do not." I repeated. "This suits me."

Draco squinted at me, tilting his head to the left. "I liked it before." He said nonchalantly. "But we don't have time to discuss it now – we have to get to the train." And with that, he stepped smartly outside the manor door, distancing himself from Narcissa and I just as he had been doing all holidays.

I sighed – no matter how normal he seemed at times, Draco was a mess and he didn't want Narcissa and I to know it. His constant need to be away from us was getting on my nerves. Tossing my newly cropped hair, I trooped down the stairs and made to follow him. I'd almost made it to the door when I was interrupted. "Estelle." I felt a cool hand on my shoulder, and automatically I stiffened, turning to face my aunt.

"Aunt Narcissa," I said politely, one eyebrow raised.

She gave me a tight smile, her eyes darting all over my face as she watched my reaction. I felt a little sting in my heart- my father had looked at me like that- before he'd died- as though trying to take everything in, to remember everything.

"You still look like her, you know." Narcissa said coolly.

I blinked, meeting her gaze, "sorry?"

"Aureile. You still look like her. Your mother." Despite the affectionate nature of the conversation, she still managed to look utterly condescending as she spoke. "It's in your mouth. Your face shape, perhaps. It's strange- when you smile, it's all Sirius, but your laugh? Your laugh is Lee's."

I shrugged jerkily, "so?"

She sighed, "how blind do you think I am?" she asked almost snappishly, "I don't know exactly why it began now rather than as soon as you found out about your father, but for the past few weeks you've been… angry at her."

I opened my mouth to deny it, but she forestalled me, "don't try and say otherwise. You're trying to erase her from yourself, just as you think she tried to do with your father and you."

"I know she tried to," I answered finally, biting the corner of my mouth, "she never mentioned him- never spoke of him at all!"

"Stop being a child, Estelle." She snapped, and suddenly she was by my side, cupping my face in her hands. She'd never come so close to me before. "Listen to me. Your mother loved you. Sirius would have, too. Had he had the chance, but Lee- she really, really would have loved you."

I could have drawn back then, pointed out that Narcissa never spoke to me about my father or my mother. She hadn't even mentioned them once in the few years I'd lived with her, and now was hardly the time for her to begin. But I didn't. Because this conversation had been years in coming, and if the person I had to have it with was Narcissa, then sobeit.

"She left me," I pointed out, "My father didn't choose not to know me. She did. She left me alone. No relatives to speak of, no family at all. She let herself die knowing that there was nobody for me." As per usual, the second I began speaking about something which I'd considered just a little problem, I realised just how much the entire thing shook me to my core. "Nobody but her boyfriend's distant relatives and a werewolf she'd once been friends with."

Narcissa didn't ask how I knew the specifics of my mother's life. She didn't ask me anything. Instead, she appeared to decide that we'd had far too much of an intimate chat. "Don't be so petulant, Estelle." She said, quite disdainfully. "I'm truly not in the mood, and I think you know that you're just doing this for effect." She sighed, patting at her hair. "I have already told you that your mother cared – I'm not sure why or how she decided to leave, but rest assured there was a reason."

I met her eyes coolly. "I disagree." I said, and with the cold knowledge of my father's words rattling around in my mind. "But it is hardly important now, is it?" I pushed past her. "We should go."

…

We arrived at the station about fifteen minutes before everybody else. I think that, without Lucius there, Narcissa was quite anxious. Usually we got to the train on time, but not excessively early. Although Narcissa naturally inclined towards the neurotic, Lucius had always calmed her down enough that we didn't appear over-eager. Under his influence, we were punctual, rather than being the first ones there. I have a hundred memories of him grasping Narcissa's forearm gently and drawling, "Now, now, my dear. They can wait for us." Never before had I realised how much I appreciated that until now.

"Lovely." Draco announced in a clipped, angry voice. "Absolutely nobody is here." To be honest, I shared his disappointment. Since we'd left, perhaps even since early that morning, I'd been feeling a sort of excitement building within me. My stomach was roiling, but I wasn't at all sure that I wasn't enjoying the sensation, and I felt fidgety. I kept looking around, but I wasn't sure what for. Certainly I was completely on edge, and without any reason whatsoever. Around me, though, my family had other things on their minds, so my discomfort went unnoticed.

"Now, Draco." Narcissa said coolly. "There's no need to get upset – it's hardly a tragedy. Your friends will be here soon."

"They're not my 'little friends'." Draco muttered angrily, crossing his arms and glaring at a passing porter.

Narcissa remained composed, raising an eyebrow slightly, but saying not a single word. "I didn't say 'little friends'." She pointed out calmly. "I said friends, Draco." I watched the pair of them, absorbed by their strange little fight.

Draco didn't look placated. If anything, he seemed angrier now. "The implication was clear." He spat. "You think we're children."

"You are children." Was Narcissa's tight answer.

"No we are not." Draco insisted, stamping his foot. I wondered whether or not I should mention the irony of his little action, but in the end, my self-preservation and curiosity won out over my compulsion to annoy him, and instead I examined my nails. "You have no right to treat me like a child, Mother!" Narcissa, apparently aware of the fact that anything she said would be considered offensive when Draco was in this sort of mood, glanced wearily at the train. This seemed to frustrate him even more. "Are you listening, mother? Are you even paying attention? Listen! I demand that you listen to me!"

I froze, shocked by Draco's outburst. It was hard to believe that just a few short months ago, he'd been so normal, so calm! He'd been troubled, of course, but just his usual self. But during the holidays I'd seen him so rarely, and now he was a completely different person. He was volatile, prone to disproportionate anger, especially when he was talking to his mother. I barely knew what to do beyond hope that as soon as we were away from Narcissa and the Manor, he'd improve.

Admirably, despite this veritable tantrum, Narcissa remained elegant. She turned to Draco, her chin raised proudly and her eyes cast down. "Do calm yourself, Draco." She said almost coldly. "Honestly. I don't know where you get this capacity for dramatics from. Do not roll your eyes at me." Draco glared at her bitterly, and she looked away. "Honestly. Your father never behaved in such a manner, and if he were here he would have been disgusted by that little display."

What I admired most about Narcissa was that she could be so ridiculously scathing without ever lifting her voice above a murmur. I aspired to be able to tear people to shreds as effectively as she did.

Now that Draco had been good and chastised, she grasped his chin between her fingers and forced him to meet her gaze. "Now listen." She snapped. "You are a child. You are a clever, talented child, but a child nonetheless. And since your father's…." She struggled almost imperceptibly to find an appropriate word. "Absence, you are a clever, talented child with an exaggerated perception of his own importance. I cannot watch you at Hogwarts, much as I should like to." Now she looked at him with such intensity that I almost felt guilty about eavesdropping. Almost. "So I am going to ask you to proceed with due caution."

Due caution? What was he being cautious of? Did I need to be cautious?

Probably. If I took Narcissa's advice of the past three years, I always needed to be cautious.

"Don't…" She was speaking again, and sounding almost frantic. "Don't draw attention to yourself."

That broke the trance that her lecture had put Draco in. With a snarl he jerked away from her. "I don't need to be told what to do." He insisted.

People were arriving by now, and as Narcissa was distracted by the joys of parenting, it fell to me to remember the famed decorum of the Malfoy family. If they continued to bicker, people would stare. Of course, I couldn't just tell them to give it a rest. No, in this situation, I had to be a little more subtle or risk their combined wrath.

But I could hardly just point vaguely into the distance, shout, 'look at that' and hope that they forgot that they'd been fighting.

No, the safest way to play this was to incur their combined wrath for something minor. In this case, I thought the easiest thing to do would be to light a cigarette. I'll admit that this was one of those rare occasions where the best thing I could do for my family was also fairly beneficial to me. I whipped out a cigarette and lit it on my wand, exhaling a perfectly formed smoke ring right between Draco and Narcissa's angry faces.

In an instant, they'd both turned to face me.

"Put that out, Estelle." Narcissa said, her tone icy. "Disgusting habit."

"You blew in my face." Draco snapped. "Don't be so rude."

I shrugged nonchalantly, running a hand through my hair. "Sorry." I said as innocently as I could.

Narcissa hissed in irritation, glancing away from us. "There is little point continuing this discussion now." She said in a low voice. "Your 'reasonably sized' friends are arriving." I couldn't help but grin at the sarcastic tone in her voice. "You may as well go to meet them." Draco made to leap off without a word more of goodbye, but Narcissa kept hold of his sleeve. He turned to her, clearly anticipating another lecture, but her eyes were sad and resigned. "Be safe, my son." She said simply. "Don't forget – for now, you're all I have."

And then – because of course as a Malfoy she just had to have the last word – she left before he could reply. He watched her retreating back for a while, and the look of uncertainty in his eyes made me realise just how much he needed her, despite himself. Those scared, little-boy eyes looked out of place in the newly hard planes of his face, and his fingers twitched slightly, almost as though he were stopping himself from reaching for her.

The sad distance between us all made me want to cry. It was so very, very different from the scene a year ago, where Lucius had been laughing, and Draco and I had just been children, really. Was that only a year ago? Really? Had so much changed? It felt almost as though nothing had, now that we were back at the station. But I knew that I couldn't shove Draco, or make any sort of snide comment to make him laugh – it wouldn't be the same. I couldn't even just rest my head on his shoulder or give him a hug so that he knew he wasn't alone. No, too much had changed, and there was a gap between us now, despite everything. There were little fissure cracks in our relationship which I couldn't repair.

So, of course, I decided to lash out. "Why are you being such a brat?" I asked lazily, before I'd even realised the words were spilling out of my mouth. He shot me a look of absolute disgust, and so, offended, I blew another smoke ring in his face.

"Alright." Draco grasped my arm firmly. "Look, Blaise is over there. We'll go stand with him. Maybe then you might behave."

That made me feel a little better. Perhaps these nerves, this anticipation, was simply me wanting to see Blaise's reaction to my new look? Still, I had to keep up the brat act. I tossed my head petulantly and shot Draco a dark look. "Don't tell me what to do, Draco." I hissed. "I'm not a child." My grin was wicked as I repeated his own words back to him, mockingly. I didn't know why I was being so annoying, but I suppose I always was better at destroying things than fixing them.

"You're acting like one." He told me firmly. I agreed, but that didn't mean I was going to alter my behaviour in any way. That would be like letting him win. And if he won, then that would mean that I would lose by default.

I don't like losing. It leaves a bad sort of taste in my mouth.

Besides that, it seemed that the more immaturely I acted, the stronger, the more sure of himself, the more purposeful Draco seemed. That was something, surely?

Blaise, as it turned out, was particularly unimpressed to see us. "Oh." He said, after finally tearing his gaze away from the over-developed chest of a nearby fourth year. "You."

I folded my arms petulantly. "Us." I agreed, trying to toss my hair, but failing dismally. It was so much shorter now – I kept forgetting.

Blaise's eyes skated over me then, and I felt momentarily gratified as he spent a few long seconds taking in my hair, my eyes, my clothes. But it ended too soon, and I felt cheap and stupid. His lack of reaction to my grand gesture made me want to punch him, but at the same time, I was fully aware that that contemptuous tilt of his chin represented a full understanding of just what I was trying to achieve through my make-over, and just how stupid it was. He was right – I was being an idiot. Still, I wouldn't ever admit that. No, now that I'd gone and done it, I would wear this new look proudly.

"You left me alone with her at Diagon Alley." Blaise was telling Draco, sounding annoyed. "And she's an absolute terror. I suppose you've seen that jacket." Draco nodded, and Blaise sighed dramatically. "She would not take 'no' for an answer."

I tuned out of their conversation then, just in time to feel Marcus Cleevebridge snake a hand around my waist. "Hey, beautiful." He murmured cheekily in my ear. "You new to the school?"

I pushed myself free. "Don't be an idiot, Cleevebridge." I said good-naturedly, glancing around again, as though I were looking for somebody. When I realised what I was doing, I forced my gaze back onto Cleevebridge. "You know me."

He made an exaggeratedly surprised face. "Dahlquist?" He asked, smacking a hand over his mouth. "Is that you under that hair?" I executed a little curtsy and he laughed. "You're so mental, but I think that makes me want you more." I was fully aware that Blaise was watching us like a hawk (although apparently it didn't interfere with his ability to enchant that busty fourth year from a few moments before) and the thought filled me with a bizarre sense of triumph. We weren't official, which meant that he couldn't complain about Cleevebridge being his usual, charming self, but I could just tell that it was making him see red. "So what brought this on?" Cleevebridge was asking now, ruffling my hair a little. He was possibly the least dignified Slytherin I'd ever met – I had no idea what he was doing in our house. Perhaps his devious streak was simply more deeply buried than my own?

My smile was small and tight and (if I was going to be honest) meant for Blaise and Blaise alone. "Just felt like it." I said easily. Cleevebridge accepted that with a shrug and immediately began to talk about his holiday in Bermuda.

There were so many people talking, but when Blaise next spoke, I just knew he was talking to me. He wasn't looking my way, or speaking to me, but I knew that his words were mine and mine alone. "Is that enough now?" He asked.

"Excuse me?" I replied evenly, tucking my hair behind my ears. It felt silky, and the shorter ends curled smoothly around my fingers.

He looked directly at me, his eyes skating over my face to meet my gaze. "I asked if this was enough." He said smoothly. "Or are you going to change your name as well?"

Damn him. He always knew, and I had no clue how. I didn't know how to answer him, so I looked sharply away. Pansy had arrived while I'd been speaking to Cleevebridge, and she was currently having a loud discussion with Jess (who'd appeared out of nowhere and given me a warm hug before greeting the others) about whether or not I was having some sort of mental breakdown. It felt… right. Despite everything that had happened, these people were my friends, or at least they'd pretend to be in front of the other houses. They knew me and cared about me and just being near them made everything feel almost normal again.

And then I sawhim. Harry. He was standing with his idiotic friends, and his hair was a mess. His trunk looked as though it were about to fall apart, and he looked as though he hadn't slept in days. I should have been contemptuous. I should have been angry, but the second he stepped into view I realised that it wasn't contempt or anger I felt so much as relief. The feeling which had been bubbling up inside of me this whole time, the rapid heartbeat, the flushed face, that hadn't been nerves– it had been anticipation. The realisation filled me with rage.

What was wrong with me? Why on earth should I excited to see Harry? Messy, awful, average-looking, lying Harry? But then, it wasn't excited, not really…. It was closer to needing, it was like I'd been waiting to see him, and now that he was here, I could finally relax. Those feelings didn't meld too well with my hatred of him, and that made me nervous. So, as always when I'm confused, I set out to cause trouble, to hurt the people confusing me.

And that was why I did it. It isn't a particularly good excuse. It doesn't inspire any understanding at all, and it doesn't justify what I did. But still, that was why.

That was why at that very second I forgot all thoughts of self-preservation, of upholding my reputation, of respecting Blaise. That was why I turned around and pounced on Blaise, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence by jamming my tongue down his throat.

I was careful not to let Harry know that I'd noticed his presence. That would lead to speculation that I'd only kissed Blaise to annoy him, and that defeated the whole purpose. No, as much as I wanted to shoot him a triumphant and vicious smirk, I resisted, instead settling back down on the balls of my feet and keeping my eyes locked with Blaise's. He looked… surprised? Annoyed? It was always so difficult to tell with him. But then, just for a second, his eyes seemed almost warm. He was surprised, that was for sure, but was he… pleased?

That confused me, but before I had the chance to analyse his expression more closely, I was distracted.

"Harry!" somebody called in confusion, as though he'd suddenly run off, and I couldn't control my sense of triumph. With a vicious smile, I tore my gaze from Blaise's, searching the crowd for where I'd last seen Harry. He was gone, but Bushy Hair and King Weasley were standing there, looking concerned. Yes. I'd won. I had won! He'd seen me, and it had upset him… Instinctively I looked back to my partner in crime to share a triumphant smirk, but Blaise's eyes were dark with fury, and I wondered whether I'd imagined that warm glow from before. Yes – they were icy cold and black with rage. Suddenly, I realised just what I'd done, and almost punched myself in frustration.

I'd kissed Blaise.

In front of Harry.

In front of Harry and the entire Hogwarts population.

In front of the Slytherins.

A part of me wanted to apologise, but it was too late for that, really, and there would be time later. No, what was important now was for me to play this as coolly as possible and try to repair any damage.

"What?" A voice half-screeched from nearby. Pansy – who else? "You – what?"

"Try a little dignity, Pansy." Draco's voice said coldly from my left. "And you two…" I turned to face Draco, only to see that he wasn't looking at me, but rather at Blaise. And he looked almost menacing. "There's no need to make a scene." He sounded incredibly blasé, really, and I supposed that was because he was trying to make the whole, tragic situation seem more normal. But it wasn't, because when purebloods had partners, it mattered. It meant more than just a fling – there was forever the implication that the relationship would go a long way. And that was why no amount of nonchalance on Draco's part could save me. Or Blaise.

"Yeah, wait til we get to the train, at least." Jess said, demonstrating the quick thinking that I'd always admired in her. She was shocked, yes. Confused? Very. But she knew that what I needed was for her act as though this was nothing out of the ordinary. The smaller the reactions, the smaller the eventual fallout. "The parents aren't too far away." Her meaning was clear – be careful, if anyone sees you, you'll never live this down. A cursory glance at the throng of impeccably groomed Pureblood parents told me that none of them had seen, or at least, none of them had fainted. I knew that the two people who would have been watching us were Nepthys Zabini and Narcissa. But I'd seen Narcissa leave, and Nepthys was nowhere in sight. Lucky, too, because I wasn't sure how Narcissa would react. She didn't seem the type to shove me into some last minute marriage (like had happened to Larissa Buckley and Carmeline's cousin Augustin when a family friend had caught them snogging in Diagon Alley), and Nepthys seemed the type to refuse to cooperate, in any case. Still, if anyone else saw and the gossip spread, I'd be ruined for the English nobility.

Blaise hadn't said anything yet, but his face remained completely masked (as per usual) so nobody thought he was upset. Except, perhaps, for me. But what could I do? I'd made my bed, and now I'd have to lie in it. This wasn't some drunken snog in a dark corner at a ball, this was an expression of affection in broad daylight, with the parents standing not too far away. I could hardly blame alcohol. I had to make a go of it, and try and make it seem as though we were, if not a traditional couple, at least something bordering on committed. Ever so subtly, I leaned against him, carefully nudging his arm a little. There was a moment of intense suspense before he finally relented and shifted enough that I could slide under his arm, as though we were hugging. I could feel the rage coming off of him in waves.

"My fault!" I said with an easy laugh. "You're right, Jess – that was risky. We wouldn't want the parents finding out."

And just like that, I categorised my relationship with Blaise – casual. By suggesting that it was a secret, I basically informed my peers that we weren't planning on it going anywhere at all, and especially not outside of Hogwarts. Of course, most purebloods who entered these sorts of covert, 'Hogwarts-only' relationships eventually made it official, but I'd done my best. The damage had been mitigated, if only slightly.

Slowly but surely, the crowd around us began to return to normal. One by one they tore their gazes away, and with Draco and Jess staunchly driving the conversation down more standard paths, the Slytherins eventually relaxed. By the time we trooped onto the train, everybody was acting more or less normally. Crabbe and Goyle were hulking around the place, Draco had one arm draped around Pansy, Tracey and Daphne (in their final year, thank Merlin!) were gossiping with the girls. I was walking with Jess and Carmeline, still unable to believe the events of the morning. I wasn't sure how Blaise and I had moved away from each other – perhaps I dropped back, or maybe he moved forwards, but either way, we hardly looked like a happy couple. He was walking alone, somewhere ahead of me.

"So…." Carmeline had caught up with us just in time to see the kiss. She had tactfully declined to mention it. "Your hair… is different."

I tossed my head haughtily. "It was time for a change."

"Really?" Jess asked lazily. "That 'time' seems to have coincidentally occurred pretty soon after you found out that your fa…" Seeing the look on my face, she sighed and stopped talking abruptly. "You're so touchy." She complained. I almost longed for the time when she and Carmeline had so briefly been careful around me, worried they'd upset me – those few days following the Battle at the Ministry had been so very peaceful. I'd known it couldn't last, and at the time, I'd wanted it to end. "Anyway," Jess continued. "I like it, but I think probably you could have done something a little less drastic."

"When I want to rebel against my parents, I wear my robes a little shorter." Carmeline suggested sweetly.

Even Jess rolled her eyes. "Sweetie, I don't think that counts." She said patronisingly. "Now, I used to give them the silent treatment…"

I shrugged. "The silent treatment is pretty much my default relationship with Narcissa anyway." I told them.

Jess' nod was understanding. "Yeah. Well, I don't really do the silent treatment anymore." She frowned. "My parents seemed to like it."

"Estelle…" A voice called dreamily just as I grinned at Jess. I glanced over my shoulder to see Luna standing behind me, in all of her bizarre glory. She was clutching a copy of the quibbler in one hand and a pair of hideously ridiculous glasses in the other, and she seemed to have somehow enchanted a single section of her hair to float in an elaborate and ever-changing swirl above her head.

I waited for my normal reaction to Luna's presence, and almost felt my indulgently affectionate smile forming, but then it stopped so suddenly that I almost gasped. "Hi, Luna." I said slowly, forcing that smile onto my face. After all, I was a master at masking my emotions. The truth was, seeing Luna unnerved me more than I would ever have expected. I supposed absently that it must be because she was at the Ministry. Or perhaps because she'd been sitting on the other side of the hospital ward the day that Harry tore my world apart. Yes, she made me jump with nerves, but I hid it well, and nobody ever saw through my acts.

Except, of course, for Luna and her crazy glasses. She cocked her head to one side. "Are you alright, Estelle?" She asked softly. "Your colours look so… brown today."

I blinked. "My- my colours?"

Luna nodded, waving her hands vaguely around, as though painting patterns in the air around my face. "Yes. You're so….. cold, Estelle. All grey, and brown, and white."

I glanced down at my bright blue skirt and my myriad of rainbow bracelets in every conceivable colour, save for grey and brown. "Um, yeah."

"You can sit with us." She said suddenly, changing the subject with an abruptness which only she could make seem casual.

As she spoke, I glanced behind her to see Longbottom and Harry waiting by a compartment. My face flushed. "I…" But I didn't have to answer, because suddenly I felt Blaise behind me.

"Coming?" He asked darkly.

I wanted to say no. I really did, but the truth was that I just couldn't. It was strange, I reflected as I gave Luna a sad little wave and followed Blaise, that I had fallen into the pattern of doing not what I wanted to do, but what I was expected to do. I wasn't sure when exactly the change had occurred. Before, I'd never cared too much about what anybody said. But now…. Now I was careful not to behave in any sort of suspicious manner, not to be too friendly with Luna and to stay away from Harry.

It wasn't until a few moments later, by which stage we'd already reached Draco's favourite compartment, that I realised the reason; before, I hadn't wanted the things I now did. Before, I didn't need to rebel, because the pureblood way of life was the only conceivable lifestyle on offer. I didn't want to talk to Harry, or sit with Luna. I found Luna interesting, but not important. I thought Harry was an idiot.

I would never have spoken to a Gryffindor, or a Hufflepuff. I wouldn't have wanted to. But the last school year had opened my eyes, and I was left feeling utterly torn. Suddenly, I felt as though there was a façade which I had to uphold which I could have sworn hadn't been there before. The realisation made me weary before I'd even stepped into the compartment.

I snapped out of my reverie as Blaise, not saying a word, held the compartment door open for me, looking particularly annoyed. I hadn't even realised we'd reached the compartment. "Where are Jess and Carmeline?" I asked, my tone much more reserved than normal. That was odd – perhaps I was feeling guilty? I'd have to nip that in the bud – attacks of conscience were never good for scheming.

Blaise noticed the difference, too, and raised his eyebrows speculatively. "Probably sitting with the other fifth years." He said, sounding utterly disinterested. As I watched, he gestured nonchalantly at the compartment we were standing in front of. His meaning was clear – I had to sit with him now. Unfairly annoyed, I pushed past him, entering the compartment with a scowl etched onto my face.

Pansy (who was sitting on Draco's lap) watched my entrance like a hawk. "What's your problem?" She asked petulantly.

I wanted to simply poke out my tongue and ignore her, but a quick look at Draco, sitting behind her, reminded me of my place. Nothing was wrong – I had to act as though everything was normal. "My problem?" I answered, keeping my tone light and disinterested. "I've only just realised that now I have to sit with you the whole way to Hogwarts."

She smiled evilly, apparently still quite angry. "You don't have to."

I flopped back onto the seat opposite Draco. "No, I suppose I don't." I said languidly, lighting a cigarette. I felt Blaise sit down elegantly beside me, quite close. "But then, I know the second I left, you'd be quizzing Blaise about…. this." I finished lamely, wishing more than anything that I could take a quick look at Blaise to see his reaction to my words, but knowing that to do so would give the wrong impression. I had to make it seem as though we were effortlessly comfortable together, casual and happy.

"'This' being the two of you?" Pansy asked, leaning forwards. Again, unsure of Blaise's reaction, I gave a noncommittal shrug. Pansy hissed in irritation. "You are so infuriating, Elle!" She announced, and I registered the use of my old nickname. "Blaise! You'll explain, won't you? This really needs to be explained."

I stiffened imperceptibly, waiting for his answer. What would he say? Would he tell her the truth? That there wasn't anything between us, not really? But he said nothing. The look on his face, though, must have been pretty impressive, because Pansy almost visibly recoiled. Watching her hasty retreat into the safety of Draco's embrace, I felt myself release a breath I'd been holding possibly for the entire exchange. I was acutely aware that at any second, Blaise could humiliate me completely, and reveal me as a fraud – an obsessive fraud, it seemed. So far, he hadn't said a word for or against me. Instead, he'd carried on as he always had, being quiet and haughty. Perhaps, I reasoned, he was in shock. Perhaps soon he'd come back to his senses and denounce me in front of Pansy Parkinson (and therefore the whole school, by proxy). Or maybe, he'd play along. Maybe he'd act as though we were together quite happily. Maybe, I thought hopefully, he didn't even realise I'd only kissed him to annoy Harry… maybe he thought I really did want a relationship. But no – I'd seen the look on his face on the platform. He knew.

So then why hadn't he said anything? What was he thinking? I cast a casual glance up at him, but his face was utterly impassive. He wasn't even looking at me. It was so horribly suspenseful! I was completely on edge, and so skittish that I was close to hyperventilating. And yet, I was managing to look calm. Carefully, I tested the boundaries of this odd little stale-mate Blaise and I were trapped in. I shifted a little on my chair, curling my legs up under me and moving so that Blaise and I were shoulder to shoulder. He didn't even tense. Cautiously, I leaned my head against his shoulder, faking a yawn.

He didn't say a word.

I should have been reassured. Surely this meant that he was going to follow through? That he would play my little game until such a time that we sat down and had a talk about it. But I felt, if anything, worse. Because until we'd had that talk, I didn't know what he was planning, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was holding my fate and reputation in the palm of his hand, ready to crush it if I so much as irked him. I was utterly miserable.

And yet, the time passed uneventfully. People spoke about the weather, and our holidays. Blaise said nothing. I said nothing.

Pansy complained about the horrible new muggle family that had moved in down the road, and Draco pointed out that if her parents had opted for a country manor like the rest of us, she wouldn't have that problem. Blaise said nothing. I said nothing.

Draco talked about quidditch. Crabbe and Goyle ventured a comment or two. Blaise said nothing. I said nothing.

And yet, nobody seemed to suspect that anything was amiss. Blaise and I must have appeared quite comfortable together – it had been all of half an hour, and yet already we were sitting side-by-side, and his arm was draped around me as though it belonged there. But while it looked charming and natural enough to raise no complaint from Pansy, I could feel his rage bubbling up inside of him. That was, I thought, almost worse than when I hadn't been able to tell what he was thinking. Now, despite my lazy posture and cheerful smile, I felt as though my stomach was tied up in knots. Any moment, Blaise might crack and announce that the two of us weren't together. I waited anxiously.

In my situation, most people would probably be careful not to push Blaise too far. Logic dictates that if you've forced somebody into an uncomfortable situation, you don't rub their face in it. But I wasn't of that school of thought. I was more of an 'in for a penny, in for a pound' sort of girl. It was likely that Blaise would reveal the truth, I knew that. But on the off chance that he didn't, I didn't want Pansy or somebody else figuring it out because we hadn't acted like a couple. So I dedicated myself to the task, snuggling like a pro and tracing swirly patterns on his wrist with the tip of my finger. He reciprocated, too. When the lady arrived with the trolley, he bought me a chocolate frog without being asked, and we shared a pack of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans like the closest of couples.

"Estelle? Did you hear me?" I glanced up to see Blaise looking at me, his eyes dark and hooded. They were the first words he'd spoken to me or anybody since we'd gotten on the train, and although they weren't exactly scathing, they were far from affectionate. With typical Zabini elegance (the type that only comes with supreme nonchalance) he waved a piece of parchment under my nose. "We've been invited to a party."

I plucked the parchment from his hands, frowning as I read over the invitation. It was addressed to me, not Blaise, but I knew he'd never have mentioned it if he hadn't received an invitation as well. "Hm. Slughorn, is it?" I shrugged, hyper-aware of how important it was that I seemed casual. "I don't really think this would be my sort of party." I said, my mind miles away.

Blaise waggled the invitation in my face again. "It's a party, Estelle." He said, sounding supremely bored. "Since when have you ever been picky?" He probably sounded normal to the others, but I could hear the venom in his voice. It made me defensive, and that was never a good sign, especially when I was trying to be clever.

My scheming had always been hindered by my sharp temper, and this was no exception. I raised an eyebrow. "Since when have your standards been so low?" I asked Blaise almost rudely.

"I think we can pinpoint that fairly easily." Pansy said sweetly, shooting a poisonous glare at me.

I ignored her. "You want to attend a party thrown by a teacher- on a train!" I scoffed. "Do you think that there will be alcohol there? You think you'll play 'spin the bottle'? Because I think you'll spend the whole time talking. Probably about the weather or politics."

Too late I realised that annoying Blaise wasn't the smartest move considering my situation. It was, however, far too late to worry about that, and to change my demeanour now would just raise suspicions. So instead, I sighed, running a hand through my hair, and sank back into my seat, making sure that I was practically sitting on his lap. "Can't we just stay here?" I whined. And then, making my smile mischievous, I swivelled so that our face were close together. "I bet this Slughorn fellow won't let us sit like this."

Blaise's smile was poisonous. "Well, you know what they say." He said, his tone utterly deadpan. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

I smiled sweetly at him, trying to conceal my anxiety. "Maybe I should stay here, then?" I suggested. And you can go…."

"I don't think so." Blaise said, smiling like the devil. "I really don't think I could stand to get any fonder of you."

I groaned, flopping my head back to rest on his shoulder. "Are you trying to punish me?" I demanded. "What have I done to deserve such hell?" Blaise didn't answer. Instead, he raised his eyebrow just a little, his eyes glinting dangerously. I almost fell off his lap. For a moment there, it had seemed like old times and I'd forgotten the precarious position I'd put myself in. His little gesture reminded me. "Fine." I said, making my voice as reluctant yet playful as I could. "Let's go, then."

As I stood up, I became aware of the fact that Draco was engaged in a heated discussion with a scared looking third year. "Are you sure?" He demanded. "Are you certain that there wasn't an invitation for me?" She squeaked anxiously, trembling like a leaf.

Instinctively, I put a calming hand on Draco's arm. "Don't fret, Drake." I said easily, motioning to the third year to run while she could. With a grateful smile, she darted off. "It's probably just to do with our marks or something."

Draco froze, like a deer in the headlights. "What do you mean?"

I thought fast. "He's a new teacher, Drake." I pointed out. "He's probably been given a list of trouble makers and nerds, and all sorts." I suggested. "He might just be trying to straighten out who is who before the year starts."

From the window, Pansy nodded in agreement. "Really, what else could it possibly be?" She asked disdainfully. Everybody knows Blaise is clever, and everybody knows Estelle is practically a halfwit and trouble to boot…"

"Pansy." Draco said, a warning clear in his tone. I sighed in relief at that. He was back to his usual, imperious self.

"And on that note." I heard Blaise drawl from behind me. He pushed open the door, stepping aside to let me out first. "We'll be back soon, I'm sure." He told everybody, before slamming the compartment door firmly shut. It shouldn't have made such a huge difference, being away from the others, but somehow it did. I felt lost and unsure of myself. I wasn't sure how to act around Blaise away from everybody's prying eyes. Usually that was when I was most comfortable, when it was just the two of us. I never needed to perform for Blaise, and he never expected more from me than what I was, and I felt the same about him. But had I ruined that dynamic now?

I turned to face him, apprehensive.

He was watching me with unreadable eyes, but when our gazes met, his expression became exasperated and he turned sharply, walking down the hall. I kept pace with him easily, tossing my hair and trying to appear as though everything was normal. It wasn't.

Blaise broke the silence first, in typical Blaise fashion. "Exactly how long are you planning on continuing this impression of Pansy?" He asked scathingly. "Because if you're planning on playing with your hair and smiling like a twit for the entire luncheon, I'll leave you right here."

I didn't rise to the bait. "Do we need to talk?" I asked, not quite rhetorically.

Blaise didn't even look at me. "Do we need to talk here?" He asked, definitely rhetorically.

He was right, of course. As much as I felt the need to clear the air and be reassured of his position, getting into a fight half way through a train journey was not a good idea. We sank back into silence. As we trod down the hallway, I wondered whether or not it would be better to keep quiet or to try and straighten things out now. In the end, though, I was a Slytherin, and I didn't have the courage to turn to Blaise and do the simplest thing – apologise for blindsiding him.

So we continued along

"And who do we have here?" I turned around and couldn't help but let out a little shriek of shock as I came face to face with a huge, walking belly. "Now, now, if this isn't the daughter of that young rascal Sirius Black, then my name isn't Horace Slughorn."

My eyes travelled upwards, catching sight of a face nestled above all that lard. "And what's your name?" I asked vaguely.

"Horace Slughorn." The little face said promptly, with a satisfied smile. "What is yours?"

"Estelle." I told him, regaining my composure after my initial shock. "Estelle Dahlquist."

"Ah!" His eyes lit up happily. "Dahlquist- of course. You have exactly her face. Except for the eyes- Black eyes, you have."

"They're grey." I said automatically, and he chuckled, his giant belly reverberating with his glee.

"Yes, indeed." He agreed, still chortling. "Ah, I knew it, I just knew it." He rested his hands comfortably on his stomach, giving it an affectionate little pat. "The first time I saw those two together, I knew- do you know, they were pretending to study to avoid me- those two! As though they were ever the studying types." He shook his head affectionately. "I knew then, that even though they didn't like each other, they'd be together, whether they liked it or not."

I blinked, rather shocked at being so bombarded with information. "What a lovely story." I offered lamely. "I just adore hearing inane anecdotes about my deceased parents!"

Oops. Perhaps I was in a worse mood than I'd realised. "Yes, a wonderful girl, your mother." Slughorn continued, oblivious. "Always thought she'd make more of herself than she did." He shot me a serious look. "I had a photo of her and I." He told me, wagging a fat finger in my direction. "Up on my shelf. But I had to take it down- she kept making rude gestures." I couldn't help but grin a little, and he returned my smile happily. "Yes, you come from good stock, Miss Dahlquist. Very good stock indeed."

My smile was bright, despite my best efforts to look nonchalant. I was warming to this pretentious pile of lard "I like to think so." I said coolly.

Slughorn beamed at me. "Very good, very good." He chortled as I tossed my newly cropped hair. I felt a little like a dog at a show, and it was absolutely baffling to me why my casual sentence should provoke such a cheerful reaction from the professor. It was like I was an animal he was studying – a specimen in a lab – and I'd behaved just as he'd hypothesised that I would. And then his smile grew even wider, and his eyes lit up as though he'd seen some sort of holy vision. I marvelled at my ability to make him happy, until…

"And Harry, m'boy." Slughorn beamed, his wide mouth almost entirely eclipsing his face. Apparently oblivious to my discomfort, he patted me happily on the shoulder and spun me around so that I was face-to-face with the last person I would ever want to see. And yet, being so close to him had made my heart speed up and my cheeks flush. I wanted to punch my traitorous teenage hormones for making me react like that to somebody I should loathe. "Should have known you'd be around here- I expect the two of you are fast friends, with parents like yours." He waggled his finger again. "Apples never fall far from the tree."

"This one did." I drawled quickly, stepping back. "Lovely to meet you, Professor, but I'm afraid I'd best be off." I ignored the feeling of Blaise attempting to tighten his grip on my arm, skilfully extracting myself from his grasp and sidestepping him.

"Estelle-" Harry took another step closer to me. "I need to talk to you." That was the absolute last thing I wanted to happen. Without meeting his gaze, I waved my fingers merrily at Slughorn and sashayed off, careful to put an extra sway in my step. I didn't get particularly far.

"No you don't." I heard Blaise mutter quite close to my ear. Curse his uncanny ability to sneak up on people! "No, you are going to suffer through this with me."

I turned around to say something witty, but before I could, Harry was at my elbow. "Let go of her!" He snapped, flushing furiously.

Blaise's fingers tightened on my arm. "Ah, Gryffindors." He drawled. "Always with the misplaced sense of heroism." And then his tone sharpened. "We are talking. Shove off, Potty."

'Now whose got a misplaced sense of heroism?' Was the whiplash response on the tip of my tongue. It was exactly what I would normally say to Blaise in this sort of situation, and it was exactly the sort of rapier wit which had characterised our friendship from the beginning. But just then, with Harry standing so close by, I just wanted Blaise and me to seem like the happiest couple in the universe.

So I bit my tongue. Well, as much as I could. "I don't need to be rescued, Blaise." I said coolly. And then turned to Harry. "I am quite capable of getting myself out of…. Unsavoury situations."

I didn't go to the party, in the end. Blaise and Harry were having so much fun facing off that Slughorn came out to chortle good-naturedly at them before pushing them away from each other. In the ensuing hostility, I slipped away unnoticed.

I wasn't sure where I was going – Draco was probably still having a complex about not receiving an invite and I didn't want to be there for that. But I also didn't want to sit with Jess and Carmeline. I hadn't spoken to them properly since I'd found out about Sirius Black, and so if I did run to their compartment, you could bet that the discussion would steer that way. Not to mention the veritable interrogation I'd have to suffer through considering the whole Blaise situation. In the end, I didn't need to think – my feet took me all the way up to the front of the train, back to Martin's side, like always. It was only as I was at the door that I realised that Martin might not want me to be there. Perhaps he'd moved the cushion, bolted the door… But when I tried it, it was open, and the cushion was exactly where I'd left it. I spent the rest of the journey curled up in a ball, my knees tucked under my chin, and listening to the reassuring 'chuga-chuga' sound of the train rattling along the tracks. It was so peaceful, so easy, and made all the sweeter by the fact that I knew it wouldn't last.

The journey ended much too soon after that. I'd watched night falling with an unshakeable feeling of dread, knowing as the dark blue spread across the sky, that soon I'd have to go and face the others. They were probably discussing me at that very moment. When the train ground to a halt, I slipped off of my cushion and back through to the carriages. I didn't bother saying goodbye to Martin – he didn't really need to hear it from me.

I pushed against the throng of people, tiredly making my way back to the cabin. I would have just jumped off of the train, but I'd left my bag under my seat – a mistake I truly regretted at that instant. By the time I squeezed through the masses of people shoving their way off of the Hogwarts Express, the crowds were thinning out. Now only a few students remained down the back end of the train – first years who'd forgotten their wands, or sixth years snuggling on the seats. My cabin, thankfully, should have been empty.

Only, it wasn't. As I rounded the corner, approaching it, I saw Draco step out of the door, muttering something and then pulling it shut firmly behind him. "Draco?" I called.

He jumped. Seeing it was me didn't seem to calm his nerves, either. "Estelle." He snapped, smoothing his hair back. "What are you doing here? And where did you go?"

I glanced away from him. "I need to get my bag." I said, resolutely avoiding the second question. "I left it in the cabin." To my surprise, Draco stepped protectively in front of the door. Exasperated, I folded my arms. "Draco, I need my bag. Move." Draco glanced quickly behind him, but didn't even step aside. "Draco!" I snapped again. "Just – move! Mon dieu!"

"You…" Draco bit back his words, covering his mouth with his hand. "Just – if you wait here, I'll…" I watched him, waiting for an explanation that wasn't coming. "I'll… I'll get it! You go outside." I didn't move, and he almost visibly spasmed. "Wait outside, Estelle!"

Frustrated, I threw my hands in the air, stalking off of the train from the nearest exit without a thought to what was waiting for me outside. Of course had I considered it I would have realised that my friends were crowded around the platform, ready to mob me.

"There you are!" Carmeline cooed, taking my hand. "We thought you'd come and visit us on the train! We wanted to talk to you!"

I smiled tightly. "And that would be why I didn't…."

"…Why she's here now!" Jess finished for me diplomatically. She smiled widely at me, "Blaise is waiting over there with Parkinson." She said. And then, because she was a girl and my friend, she leant over and whispered. "At least three girls have tried to talk to him – he ignored them." I raised my eyebrows, and she nodded vigorously. "Yes! Belinda, Prudence… Even that Brunedell-Bryce girl went over to flirt, but he hasn't gotten into a carriage with any of them."

And then Carmeline, also being a girl and my friend, chimed in with, "he is waiting for you!"

I gave a nervous laugh. "No, guys… really, it's very casual…"

Jess gave me a stern look. "Elle, that line would work if you were talking about any other guy." She said seriously. "But we're talking about Zabini here. Don't patronise us."

I shot her a glare, taking her arm and pulling her closer. "Don't – don't talk like that in public." I hissed. "I can explain to you later, but please!" Jess gave a resigned sigh, throwing her hands up in surrender. "Come on." I said, forcing a smile onto my face. "Let's go and find the boys."

They were indeed waiting for us. Blaise was lounging against a post, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, with Pansy pacing back and forth in front of them. At my approach, He glanced up, meeting my gaze. With a sigh, I walked to him, stopping just inches away, my heart pounding apprehensively. "I cannot believe that you left me alone at lunch with that pathetic old man and that moronic Gryffindor." He snapped.

Pansy whirled to face the two of us. "He came back in a terrifically bad mood." She complained. "And because you weren't there, he just snapped at Draco and I." I realised in that second that Pansy considered it my responsibility to placate Blaise. With a surge of triumph, the realisation that she considered the two of us an authentic couple hit me.

I shot her a mocking smile. "As his friends, you should be prepared to put up with some of that." I began, but Blaise interrupted me, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the others before I could finish. "What?" I demanded, before remembering that I was trying to stay in his good books. Quickly, I altered my tone. "That is, how can I help you…?"

"Try not to be so utterly common, Estelle." He snapped. "If you must attempt to ingratiate yourself, do so with the subtlety of which I know you are capable."

I sighed. "Fine. What?" I asked, not bothering to be even slightly polite. He just watched me, and I shifted uncomfortably. "Look, if I had stayed at that silly little party…"

"As though I care about that!" Blaise scoffed. "I wanted to ask you... about Draco." I stilled, listening carefully. "He was insinuating on the train that…"

"He was lying." I said instantly, guessing just what Draco had been saying. "Boasting. He's been doing that since Lucius was…"

Blaise's eyes turned dark. "Fine." He snapped, cutting me off. "Fine then. Lie to me. It isn't as though I've proved myself trustworthy, is it?"

The guilt washed over me the second he said those words. I bit my lip, uncharacteristically remorseful, and reached out to touch his arm. "Blaise…"

"Don't bother." He said. "We can discuss everything at length. Later."

"Come on, lovebirds!" Jess called, interrupting us. I'd never been happier. "Let's get a carriage! They've just arrived and Draco's back with Estelle's bag…." Laughing with relief at this turn of events, I turned to face her, and screamed in shock.

Standing at the front of the carriage were two huge, leathery horses, with massive wings folded in at their sides. One pawed the ground, meeting my eyes and tossing its head. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut – and I'd thought Blaise was the only thing I had to worry about at the moment.

"Estelle?" Zabini drawled lazily from by my side. "Are you feeling quite alright?"

"I'm walking." I said, when I could finally speak again. "You go ahead."

Stay down. Don't you ever do what you're told? Grey eyes on grey eyes- flash of red…. Last laugh.

"What?" Draco (who'd strolled up to us, shoving my bag into my arms) and Blaise exchanged looks. "Just- just get in the carriage, Estelle."

"I said I'm walking." I shouted at them, striding away, hands buried in my pockets.

"Elle!" I turned, hoping that Blaise was coming with me. Even if things were odd at the moment, the two of us had always been able to just push everything aside and simply be together, and right now I needed that easiness. But he was already in the carriage, sitting next to Jess. Instead, it was Draco who'd called my name. Huffing angrily, he jogged up to my side. "What is your problem?"

I shrugged angrily. "I can see them."

"See what?"

"The thestrals." I answered testily, rubbing away the tears in my eyes with the heel of my hand. "I can see them now." By my side Draco was so quiet that I thought perhaps he'd left. But he hadn't, he just didn't have anything really to say. We walked along in silence as the carriages rattled past us. My thoughts wandered back to just a year ago, when the carriages had been a pretty extra- something I'd never really considered. Once, they'd just seemed like decoration. I'd thought they were charming. I squeezed my eyes shut as one of them passed close by us, the Thestral's wing brushing gently against my arm. "Merde." I hissed, angrily wiping at my eyes. Furious, I shot a glare at Draco. "Nobody can know about this, Draco." I snapped. "Nobody. You can say that I… I wanted a walk."

Draco didn't answer straight away, instead walking alongside me in silence. Eventually, in a voice much calmer than I'd heard from him recently, he said, "well, they'll assume you and Blaise fought." That was true. I hadn't even thought of that.

"Merde." I repeated. "Damn. Alright…." I thought over my options. It would be humiliating for Blaise and I to 'break up' so soon after I'd so openly displayed my affection for him.

"Don't over think it." Draco sighed from beside me. "In fact, I think this is a perfect opportunity. You can pretend that it's over, and then this idiotic game can end." He shot me a look. "I honestly have no clue what you were thinking."

"I can't do that." I snapped. How had he not realised the problem with that outcome yet? Was I the only person capable of quickly summing up the pros and cons of a decision? "It will look terrible! Like I was just some clingy putain who deluded herself into thinking…."

Draco held up a hand to stop me. "You're right." We fell back into silence. After yet another carriage passed us by, Draco switched sides with me, shielding me from the thestrals. Eventually, he sighed. "well, I suppose you'll just have to keep it up, then." I shot him a hurt look, shocked by his callousness, but he just shrugged. "I don't know what possessed you, but you've made your decision and you'll just have to live with it." He shot me a glance. "Assuming you want to end this, you can just allow it to peter out… some sort of rumour, perhaps, about an arranged marriage?"

I nodded thoughtfully, squeezing my eyes shut as another thestral passed by tossing its head. The students on board were clearly second year, and they seemed to think it was hilarious travelling in a horseless carriage. Little shits. They knew nothing. "That might work." I said through clenched teeth. "We shall see."

To my surprise I felt his hand on my shoulder. I stiffened instantly, not used to this closeness. We hadn't ever been the sort to hug or show affection, but especially not lately, with Draco so bitter and angry. Draco must have sensed my unease, because straight away his hand was gone as though it had never been there. "You know." He said conversationally, "I knew Sirius Black died at the Ministry." He shot me a look. "But I didn't realise you'd seen it." I nodded sharply, but didn't say a word and for a while we walked in silence yet again. But then, almost musingly, Draco spoke. "It must be strange… watching somebody die." That seemed like an insensitive thing to say, and instinctively my arms folded tightly across my chest. "Watching… the life leave them. Does it change you, Estelle? Are you different now?"

I didn't answer him. I couldn't answer him. But he didn't pressure me, and we didn't speak again until we reached the school.

….

A/N: You know how this works! Please review, and if there are any characters or scenes you particularly want to see, just let me know!