"I'm a hot knife, he's a pat of butter / If I get a chance, I'm gonna show him that / He's never gonna need another"- Fiona Apple.

The journey down to Kings Cross on September 1st was traditionally fraught - traffic jams, road works - and so climbing from the car after a solid seven hours was the definition of relief. Her muggle father rushed with her from the car park, laboured by luggage as they reached the Hogwarts Express at exactly 10:59am. The final whistle sounded as he piled Laura and two small suitcases into the nearest carriage, his voice joining the chorus of caring leaking from both train and platform.

The final whistle blew and the train pulled away, leaving Laura alone with her thoughts for several minutes. The end of term had seen her bid her friends farewell for a solid nine weeks, as they returned to their homes in southern England, and she undertook the laborious trek back to the north. Regardless of where students were from, the majority still had to take the Hogwarts Express to Kings Cross before returning home.
She didn't mind her hometown, and was always sympathetic to those without the luxury of living by the sea. Unfortunately, her sleepy, seaside citadel had been long-abandoned by the holiday-goers and tourists of yore; consequently the arcades and attractions had left with them, in spirit if not in presence. This meant that what had once been the most awaited weeks of the year had now become a dreary, windswept blur of nothingness. A calendar on the wall counted down the moments before her return to Hogwarts: a home from home, her substitute family. Some students surrounded themselves with friends, but Laura had always preferred to keep one or two people close, rather than be queen of the common room. Her closest friend, LaFontaine, was far more mature than many in her classes, and their thirst for knowledge often exceeded their interest in lessons. LaF and Laura had resolved to maintain a mediocre grade curve until graduation, seeking only happiness and a Pass grade for the next two years.

They had left London long before Laura finally took stock of her surroundings. She peered into the window of the nearest compartment, and found only one inhabitant: a dark haired girl, dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit with a Slytherin emblem embroidered onto the right jacket pocket. She was staring intently out into the passing countryside, headphones covering her tick of a snare was barely audible over the rush of the train. Laughter came from further down the carriage, and fearing that the other nearby passengers might be larger groups of Slytherins, Laura ducked inside the room, closing the door behind her.
The room's sole occupant turned slowly away from the window and cocked an eyebrow at her expectantly, revealing a stark white shirt hidden beneath the blazer. Laura cleared her throat as the girl slid her headphones down to her neck.

"No uniform." She pointed out, although Laura was unable to gauge whether this was a statement or a question.
"Nope." Laura acknowledged. She didn't usually wear her robes until the castle was visible from the window of the train.
"Fifth year, I'm guessing." Said the girl confidently, and Laura nodded. "And your house?"

Slytherins were not famed for their manners, and Laura gave the girl a moment to offer a hand to shake, or at least provide a name. Instead, she was met with an expectant gaze.

"Why don't you use your powers of deduction?" Laura smiled. She removed her coat and sat down on the bench facing the other girl, tucking her suitcases away as she did so.

"Well, you're no Slytherin." The girl began, appraising Laura. "I'd know you, if you were." She slid up the bench until their knees were nearly touching. "Yeah, I'd definitely know you."

Laura wondered what that was supposed to mean. It felt distinctly like flirtation, a definite allusion to something more. Recent conquests had been disappointing to say the least, and her own house, Ravenclaw, had provided little in the way of romance. Padma Patil had been sweet, aside from insisting that their tryst remained a secret, and Laura had no desire for secrets. A brief, drunken kiss from LaF had been interesting - "for science" - but meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Sex with a sixth year had been, well, forgettable. Several hot and heavy nights in the Hufflepuff dorms had been enjoyable, but little more than the satisfaction of bi-curiosity for her partners. Laura didn't exactly resent her role in that capacity, but didn't want to make a habit of it. That said, she couldn't deny that Hufflepuff snuggles and morning-after breakfasts had been exceptional; the latter being a bonus of living next to the kitchens, she supposed.

As though practicing legilimency, the girl opposite her continued to hold her gaze, only speaking after a brief pause and a wry smile.

"You haven't tried to hug me yet. You're not eating anything either. So that rules out Hufflepuff." Laura gave the briefest of grins, which the Slytherin returned, leaning forward to study her intently. "You also haven't told me that you're a Gryffindor, which you would have, if you were."

Generally, Laura steered clear of Gryffindor students. Their stereotype of being confident to the point of cocky was often deserving, and although she didn't like to generalise, she wasn't interested in becoming a notch in somebody's bedpost. Despite having had a "sleepover" with one of the more notable Gryffindor girls last year, she attributed the experience to an excess of butterbeer and little else. A Slytherin though? That would be new, unexplored ground, and Laura was all for exploration. Her tenacity for investigation was one of the traits that had placed her in Ravenclaw.

The other passenger continued, after a pause. "You're not wearing any sporting paraphernalia, which leaves... Ravenclaw." She smiled again, seemingly satisfied.

"I didn't know Sherlock was in Slytherin." Laura laughed, cracking open her suitcase to reveal the smallest glimpse of Ravenclaw colours on a worn woollen scarf.
"You're lucky I'm up on my muggle literature. Otherwise, I'd be lost right now." The Slytherin remarked, smirking. The tension in the air seemed to relax. "Do you have a name, Ravenclaw?"
Laura hesitated: sharing names meant potential friendship. She decided to take the plunge anyway. "Laura Hollis."
The Slytherin extended a pale hand towards her, leaning forward again in her seat. She brushed hair out of her face as their hands connected, the skin-to-skin contact sending a buzz through Laura's veins. "Nice to meet you, cupcake. I'm Carmilla Karnstein." They shook. The hand-holding lasted a little longer than it should've, and releasing the grasp was gradual rather than instantaneous, as though the very act itself required thought.

"Got any big plans for fifth year?" Asked Laura. It seemed like a fair opening to the conversation; not too personal, but better than the generic how was your summer?

"Aside from not getting kicked out?" Carmilla laughed, giving the briefest glimpse of a bad attitude and reckless tendencies.

"Do they even expel people from Hogwarts? I thought every wizard matters, or something." Laura's query was met with more hollow laughter.

"You're cute, but you're clueless." She felt her neck reddening. "Of course they kick people out 'Claw. You just don't hear about it." There was a pause as Carmilla dug around inside her jacket. "The groundskeeper, the big guy? Kicked out. I heard he killed someone, and that's why they employ him. They don't want him to blab to any outsiders."

Laura was quiet for a moment, contemplating. She met Carmilla's eyes with some hesitation. "Well, I trust you're not planning to kill anybody."

Tentative smiles were exchanged. Carmilla produced a hipflask from her inside pocket, and took a sip. "Seems like a little much effort. Not that there aren't candidates." She said thoughtfully, before offering the flask to Laura, who could smell the firewhiskey from the other side of the carriage and politely declined. "Anyway," the brunette shrugged, "you don't need to kill to get kicked out." Carmilla screwed the lid back onto the flask and tucked it away. "Harry Dickhead nearly got the boot for taking a flying car rather than the Express in second year. Teacher's pet benefits though; he got to stick around."

"Harry Potter?"

"One and the same."

"I can't stand him." Said Laura, suddenly incited, small gestures becoming larger as her agitation grew. "That boy has a God complex. I mean, did you see him in the tournament?"

Carmilla leant forward in her seat, a conspiratorial glint in her eye. She beckoned for Laura to move in closer, until they were inches apart. "If I were to kill, and I'm not saying I would, but... I could add him to the hit list. Do you a favour." Carmilla winked, mischievously. Laura could smell the alcohol, along with incense and firewood, coming from Carmilla in steady waves. She seemed warm but with an edge: a hot knife in the wrong hands. Laura felt that she might melt if Carmilla came too close.

"I appreciate the offer. Really, I do." She put a hand on Carmilla's knee, attempting to mask the cast iron butterflies in her stomach with a smile and sincerity. "But some things, a girl just has to do for herself, you know?"

Carmilla's laugh was hoarse and heartfelt as she leaned back against the bench. Laura internally congratulated herself. She had made a cute girl laugh, with her rather than at her. "You don't strike me as a killer, Hollis." Carmilla countered with a grin. "But I guess a pretty face can hide a multitude of sins, right?" They stared one another out. Laura wondered what she was at risk of losing if she blinked first.

"Do you flirt with everybody like this?" She could feel herself blushing again, and tried to take the lead.

"You answer my question, I'll answer yours." Carmilla challenged.

"You want to know if I think a pretty face can hide a multitude of sins?"

"Not just any pretty face." Said the Slytherin, stretching her legs out across the small compartment until she had placed a foot either side of Laura's, invading her space, closing her in. "Your pretty face, sweetheart."

Laura tried to ignore the compliment. "You've known me for all of ten minutes, and already you want my innermost secrets? Flattery won't get you anywhere, Ms. Karnstein." It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Kind though your concern is."

"You can't blame a girl for trying." Carmilla grinned, a mock-pout adorning her curving lips as she sat back in her seat.

"Yeah, well… You're going to have to try harder than that." Laura no longer knew or cared if she was talking about the secret-keeping or the personal-space-invading; her feet were pressed against Carmilla's, and a playful battle had begun. The two girls tussled for a few seconds, never once breaking eye contact or leaving their respective seats. To an outsider, they would simply seem to be engaged in an exceptionally intense staring contest.

This is silly, Laura thought. This is so immature. She didn't even know this girl. She should stop, what was this, footsie? She could be reading over her course notes, or donning her uniform, or, anything really, other flirt with this very forward Slytherin, who admittedly did actually seem to be interested. It had been a long time since she hadn't had to be the pursuer, and she welcomed the change. Just play it cool, she thought. For once in your goddamn life.

Her reverie was ruined as the vestibule door slid open, revealing a tall, impeccably-poised Slytherin.

"Belmonde." Murmured Carmilla, casually easing herself upright and leaving the contact of Laura's feet.

"Karnstein." Responded the newcomer, her dark eyes elsewhere as she watched Laura intently.

Laura had seen the girl on innumerable occasions: she attended every Slytherin Quidditch match, and was one of their more vocal supporters. It also didn't help that her confidence was so easy to pick out from the crowd - she was like a fire in a snowstorm.

"Ravenclaw chaser, right?" She regarded Laura coolly.

"Yep." Laura felt awkward. "That's me."

"Mattie Belmonde." They shook.

"Laura Hollis. Pleasure to meet you."

Mattie continued to stare at her. "We'll see about that." She glanced around the carriage, disinterested. "You playing this season?"

"As far as I know." She had played for the Ravenclaw quidditch team since her third year, and intended to continue until she finished at Hogwarts.

"And you've met our most recent acquisition, I see?" Mattie gestured to the other Slytherin.

Laura was confused, glancing from Mattie to Carmilla, and back again. Carmilla sat silently, surveying the conversation with a grimace, but Mattie took delight in Laura's evident confusion.

"Oh, you didn't know?" She turned to Carmilla, eyebrows raised in surprise. "You didn't tell her?"

"It wasn't really relevant until now. I didn't even know she was on the team." Carmilla grumbled, sounding despondent. She averted her gaze, returning to the position Laura had first found her in: body turned from the door, eyes to the window. Mountains and moors passed in the moments before Mattie spoke again.

"Oh, Karnstein's just being shy. She's the new Slytherin beater." Her smile was beatific, and although in any other conversation held the capacity to light up the carriage, Laura was chilled to the bone. Mattie felt like flesh over steel, a skeleton reinforced by and upbringing of privilege and pride.

Returning her gaze to Carmilla, Laura went pale at the thought of the girl with bat and bludger in hand, both aimed in her direction. Prior - and premature - thoughts of a quietly blossoming flirtation dissipated before her eyes.

"I'll leave you two to get further acquainted." Mattie smiled broadly, as though oblivious at the sudden change in temperament. Laura felt as though she had purposefully made herself an unwanted guest in the small room; Mattie was notorious for stirring situations simply to provoke a reaction. "See you both on the pitch!" She continued, closing the door behind her.

Silence reigned for what felt like forever.

"Well, fuck." Carmilla muttered to the window. Laura viewed her reflection, trying to figure out why the temperature in the carriage seemed to have dropped from the double digits of their earlier dalliance.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" She tried, aiming to ease their collective discomfort with a joke.
"I won't be kissing anybody any time soon. Not if Mattie has her way." Carmilla replied, sliding headphones over her ears and turning her collar up, as though against a storm only she had to weather. Laura sighed, resolving herself to spend the remainder of the journey revising, cracking open a suitcase to find the nearest textbook. She could never just fancy a cute girl, could she?