All Along the Watchtower

"Business men, they drink my wine; plowmen dig my earth,

None of them along the line know what any of it is worth."

- Bob Dylan, All Along The Watchtower.

Valentine was beginning to feel guilty about dragging Aunt Lerato to and fro. She couldn't take a plane by herself, and so her aunt constantly had to take a plane to England and then back to Africa later the same day. It must have been tiring. If there were a way that she could see going alone as plausible, she would have done it.

Lerato didn't even come inside the barrier this time, instead saying goodbye to her just in front of what was supposedly a wall. Valentine couldn't feel the wall at all; rather, she would walk through it as if it were thin air. "Keep safe," Lerato said to her, briefly touching her braids, then her jaw. "I told Finley I would always keep you safe, child."

"I'm old enough to take care of myself, Aunt," she said back, smiling up at her. Lerato sighed, then squeezed her shoulder.

"If anything happens like las' year, I want you on the first plane home, you hear?"

Valentine's smile widened; she knew it was a bluff. "Of course. Go catch your plane, I'll write, and I'll see you next summer." She kissed her aunt on the cheek, and disappeared through the barrier.

On the other side, the noise was no quieter. Parents were seeing their children off, and the crowds were so thick it was practically a miracle that she managed to push through with her trunk.

Stumbling slightly, Valentine managed to trace her fingertips along the edge of the train until she found a door. When she had lifted her luggage and tucked it away in a corner, she leaned against the wall for a moment, tired. Plane journeys always did this to her. Sapped her of energy.

"Valentine!" a familiar voice called from off the train. "Valentine, over here!"

Valentine stepped off the train and toward the voice, until a hand caught her elbow, and she was pulled away from the train. "What's up, Gin?"

"Mum," Ginny said, sounding as happy as Valentine had ever heard her. "Mum, this is Valentine, and--oh, where's Luna, you should meet her, too..."

"Hello, dear," Ginny's mother greeted her, warmth in her voice. "Our Ginny's been talking about you all summer, you and the Lovegood girl."

Just as Valentine was about to reply, a shrill noise sounded from the train. "Mum, the train's going--" Ginny shouted, grabbing for Valentine's hand again.

"Arthur, quickly!" The Weasley mother cried, and in a flurry of movement and bodies, they were aboard the train.

"I need to talk to you in private," Potter said, and Valentine jumped slightly; she hadn't realised he was there.

Ginny's brother - Ron, she thought, he was the one who was always around Potter - then said, "Go away, Ginny."

"Oh, that's nice," Ginny said huffily.

Valentine smiled. "Real friendly. So now I'm going to take your little sister and contaminate her with the Slytherins. C'mon."

Ginny still seemed annoyed as she grasped Valentine's arm and they walked away. "Bloody nutter, Ginny's new friend," she heard in the distance.

"I heard that," she replied loudly, and then laughed. "Luna'll be around somewhere."

They didn't find Luna; in fact, it was a Slytherin compartment that they walked into, and that caught Valentine's attention. "Val," Pansy greeted, and she felt a quick, cool press of fingertips to her wrist. "Sit with us?"

"Sure," Valentine replied, cheerfully, then turned back to Ginny. "You'll give them a chance, won't you? They're all right."

"Actually..." Ginny sounded uncertain, and Valentine knew she didn't like Slytherins anyway, so she nodded. "I'll carry on looking for Luna. When I find her, either be here or in Ron's compartment, okay?"

"Do you really think I'm going to run off?" she asked as Ginny walked away. "Honestly, Gryffindors. Seem to think we're all made of reckless stuff."

"I'm sure," Pansy replied, and she did not sound amused. "Why do you put up with her, anyway? Weasleys..." Valentine imagined a disgusted shudder would follow this, but would never be sure.

"Give her a chance, Pansy," she replied, and because there were other voices in the compartment, added: "Who else is in here?"

"Draco, Rain, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Leonardo, Daphne," Pansy listed off. "I don't much fancy staying. Up for a walk?"

"Draco," Valentine called, louder than usual. "Take a walk with me?" She tried to put on an appealing face, but was met with Draco's loud scoff. "Come on, I want to go back to Ginny's brother's compartment--Potter'll be there."

There was a pause, then: "Crabbe, Goyle?" They must have responded somehow, because in a moment's time the five of them were exiting the compartment. "I don't quite like that Vaisey; seems the blood-traitor type."

"I don't care about blood, unless it's outside of the body, blood makes me nervous, where are we?" Valentine wondered aloud, tracing the edge of a chair with her palm.

Draco sighed. "We're on the Hogwarts Express, and you're insane."

Valentine went to argue, and then changed her mind several times. "You're insane," she ended up responding with. Satisfied with her reply, she crossed her arms as the group stopped and Draco tugged a compartment door open. He closed the door without saying anything, and Valentine supposed that it was empty, or possibly full of Hufflepuffs; they were the only people unworthy of even Draco's insults.

The rain was pattering gently on the windows in a mid-afternoon English manner, when Draco pulled open the right door. "Well, look who it is," his voice sounded, telling Valentine exactly who it was. "Potty and the Weasel."

Valentine was about to point out that Saint Potter just sounded more Potter-esque, but Draco beat her to the talking game. "I hear your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," he drawled. "Did your mother die of shock?"

"Nope," Valentine replied with a smile, "I met her earlier today. She called me dear. I felt so appreciated."

Pansy laughed and said, "You're never going to get that from us."

"Who's that?" Draco demanded, and Valentine tilted her head up. Draco must have seen her and read the expression, for he went on, "Grubby looking man in the corner. God, he's not going to be teaching us, is he? Looks worse than Weasley's father--"

"New teacher," Saint Potter replied, and the changing angle of his voice meant he must have been standing up. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"

"He was insulting Weasley's father," Pansy pointed out helpfully, and her fingers closed around Valentine's wrist. "Come on, let's go."

"Nah, I think I'm staying," she replied, shifting her arm so that Pansy's fingers touched her own. "Ginny said she's meet me here. You don't mind?" she asked the actual occupants. None of them said they did, so she figured she was home free. "I'll see you at the Feast, Pansy, Draco, idiot-twins."

Valentine sat down on the closest seat to the door as it closed, then smiled as Ginny's Ron let out a frustrated sound.

"I am not going to take any rubbish from Malfoy this year," he informed them, sounding angry. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and--"

"I could punch him for you," Valentine suggested. "Save you a fight, gives me a pleasure. Plus it wouldn't be the first time, so nobody will do the whole shocked-and-disappointed extravaganza."

"You two," Hermione hissed, "be careful." Valentine remembered that there was a teacher present, paused, then remembered that she didn't care.

"It could be fun," she went on, speaking directly to Ron. "I could be your hit-man... woman. Only without the actual killing. Unless you want to pay me extra, in which case--wait, isn't Draco my friend?" She pulled a confused expression, and then shrugged.

"We must be nearly there," Ron pointed out, as the rain thickened and the noises became louder.

As soon as he was done speaking, the train pulled to a slower speed. "That was lucky."

"Brilliant," Ron responded, footsteps sounding as he passed her. "I'm starving, I want to get to the feast..."

"We can't be there yet," Hermione pointed out.

"So why're we stopping?" Ron asked, and Valentine suddenly found herself stumbling out of her seat when the train stopped abruptly. "What's going on?" Ron's voice sounded again, this time sounding less confused and more worried.

"What happened?" Valentine asked, getting a grip on the back of a chair.

"Ouch!" Hermione yelped. "Ron, that was my foot--Valentine, the lights have all gone out."

"Finally," Valentine replied dryly, "I have the upper hand. Don't walk around like spastics--" and they proceeded to do just this.

"D'you think we've broken down?" Potter asked, and Valentine felt him brush by her arm.

"Dunno," Ron replied, and there was a squeaking sound.

Valentine's head snapped up. "Shh!" Valentine insisted. "It sounds like the doors have opened. Is someone boarding the train? Can anyone see?"

"Looks like it," Ron replied from the far end of the compartment. The door suddenly opened and there was a thud.

"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry--"

"That's all right, I don't need that foot anyway, and we don't have a clue. Please sit down before you break any more limbs," Valentine replied in a friendly manner. There was a distinct screech as the Longbottom boy tried to sit on a cat, and Valentine didn't bother wondering what a cat was doing onboard.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," Hermione said in a factual voice. Her footsteps passed Valentine, then she slid the door open, bumped into something and squealed in pain. "Who's that?"

"Who's that?" Ginny's voice sounded.

"Ginny?"

"Hermione! I was just on my way here with Luna when--what's happening?" Ginny's voice asked, in what sounded like a slight panic.

"Come in and sit down--"

"Not here!" Potter's voice shouted. "I'm here!"

"Well, Ginny," Valentine said when Ginny shifted and ended up on her lap. "I didn't know you liked me like that."

"Valentine!" Ginny shouted, and threw her arms around her neck. Luna reached out her hand to brush Valentine's, then she was pulled into the quick hug. "What's happening?"

"Quiet!" a hoarse voice that certainly hadn't been there before called out. The new teacher must have woken up at last. Nobody spoke for a long moment, and Ginny moved quietly until she was sitting next to Valentine instead of on her. "Stay where you are."

Valentine listened to the teacher's footsteps and the door opening, and realised a moment too late that the footsteps hadn't reached there yet. Then an intense cold whispered over her, worse than the bitter Scottish winters, beneath her skin, clawing at her.

The muggles, she heard herself thinking desperately. The muggles had killed her father, and they were violent creatures, ignorant, stupid, why had she ever stood up for them? Lived with them? The cold was settling in now, and she couldn't remember any of her counter-arguments, only that there was something wrong with the world and she had been accepting it.

No, she thought desperately, as the chill tore into her bones. This isn't me... This isn't...

I've been protecting the enemy all along.

She tried to pull out of her train of thought, and tell herself that the enemy wasn't the muggles, when she remembered her last moment of sight; that greying man with the pointed teeth, the yellowing fingernails, and--goodness, goodness, if anyone was he enemy it was the werewolves.

The body next to her began to shake so violently that Valentine could feel it, and fighting past the hatred and illness and cold, cold, cold, she grabbed Ginny's shoulder and held her, tried to keep her steady. How was she supposed to do this? Why was she even helping?

A thump sounded as a body hit the floor, and the teacher's voice shouted, "None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go." After a moment without movement, he muttered, "Expecto patronum!" In another flurry of movement, something ran across the room and whoever had opened the door was gone.

Valentine's skin began to fade back to normal, and she tugged Ginny close. "What's wrong with him?" Luna asked, and her arm knocking Valentine's as she pointed.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, and several thumps sounded as people got to their knees. Valentine held Ginny back; she was still trembling.

"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?" She heard the echo of a slap, presumably from Hermione, as she had spoken.

A sharp breath was let out. "W-What?"

Valentine sighed in relief, and Luna's hand rested on her arm. "Are you okay, Harry?" she asked, in a calm tone of voice.

"Yeah," Potter replied, the angle changing as he sat up. "What happened? Where's that - that thing? Who screamed?" he asked, sounding slightly disorientated.

"No one screamed," Ron replied, nervously.

"But I heard screaming--" A loud snap cut his confused words off.

"Eat it," the teacher said, probably to Potter. "It'll help."

"What was that thing?" Potter asked, not sounding as if he were eating.

"A Dementor," the teacher replied. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban." After a moment something was placed in her hand. She lifted it to her face and the smell indicated it was chocolate.

"You--chocolate," Valentine said, sounding awed. "You do realise that this means we're getting married, right?" She didn't know who the chocolate-giver was, but it was the teacher's amused voice that responded.

"You may be a little young for marriage," he replied. "Eat. It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me..." His footsteps definitely led away this time.

"I don't get it... what happened?" Potter asked, voice still a little shaky.

"Well - that thing - the Dementor - stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see it's face) - and you - you -" Hermione stuttered, the aftershock apparently settling in.

"I thought you were having a fit or something," Ron continued for her. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of you seat and started twitching -"

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked towards the Dementor, and pulled out his wand," Hermione went on, sounding more collected. "And he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the Dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned round and sort of glided away..."

"It was horrible," Neville said, in a high voice. "Did you feel how cold it went when it came in?"

"It's all right, it's gone now," Luna soothed him. Valentine pushed the whole piece of chocolate into her mouth, and warmth spread across her mouth and fanned out to the rest of her body.

Someone shifted, and Ron said, "I felt weird, like I'd never be cheerful again..."

Ginny gave a small sob, and Valentine renewed her hold on her, trying to comfort rather than cling.

"But didn't any of you - fall off your seats?" Potter asked awkwardly. Valentine wondered where Pansy was, but didn't want to let go of Ginny. She supposed Pansy would be all right; it was more likely to be Draco that needed help.

"No," Ron replied. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though..."

The compartment fell into quiet, and Valentine yet again had the feeling that she had missed something. Instead, she leant her head on top of Ginny's and sighed. The taste of chocolate lingered in her mouth, sweet and bitter all at once.

The door opened again, and after a brief moment of panic, Professor Lupin made himself known. "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know..." He paused. "We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. Are you all right, Harry?"

"Fine," Potter replied quietly, almost seeming embarrassed. Valentine pulled away from Ginny a little and turned her face as to hide it in soft, warm hair. She'd been awake too long, and the Dementor had seemed to sap her energy as well as happiness. Or maybe they were one and the same.

The next ten minutes passed with little conversation. She supposed this was due to the fact that the third-years barely knew the second-years, with the exceptance of Ginny. Outside, the rain continued to fall, unknowing of what had happened in its presence.

When the train pulled up again, it was not as violent as before. She had Ginny at one arm and Luna at the other, and when Hermione passed them she put her hand briefly between Valentine's scapulae. She wondered if the third-year girl had felt anything like the relief that she had felt in knowing the other was okay.

And the rain only seemed to get harder as they stepped onto the platform. Luna laughed slightly, and the angle of the noise showed that she was tilting her head upwards, but Ginny squealed and tried to pull them faster.

Valentine couldn't help but laugh with Luna.

They found a carriage with the Slytherin second-year girls, who mostly ignored them, and Valentine screwed up her nose at the smell of damp straw. The only time that she was spoken to by the Slytherin girls was when Marilyn Idlewhy asked, "You're friends with Parkinson, aren't you?"

Her voice didn't sound inviting, so Valentine only nodded, and went back to conversing quietly with her friends.

The Slytherin girls didn't make another attempt to speak to them; nobody in the common room apart from Pansy and (a rather reluctant and often annoyed) Draco really did.

When the carriages halted and Luna, with a slow, "I rather like the rain," helped her out, Valentine automatically found Draco's voice.

"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?" He sounded excited and faintly malicious, which was one of the most amusing ways to get him, so Valentine stopped at his elbow.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron grunted, and Draco laughed, back in the cold, distant manner.

"Did you faint too, Weasley? Did the scary old Dementor frighten you, too, Weasley?"

"Draco," Valentine said, voice shaking. "Draco, don't, it was--" she looked away and swallowed, shaking.

Draco paused. "Baruti?"

Valentine swallowed again, then couldn't help it anymore; her face cracked into a smile. "I can't believe you actually fell for that, you big wuss," she said, knocking him in the shoulder.

The Gryffindors laughed and began to walk past her. Valentine smirked at Draco, who scoffed in return. "Is there a reason you're being such a nuisance?"

"Yes," Valentine answered, "I don't like you. Help me to the feast?"

Surprisingly enough, though his first reaction was, "No," when he walked past her and Valentine grabbed his arm he didn't bother trying to shake her off. For a moment she'd worried that it wasn't even him, but then he'd insulted her appropriately and Valentine smiled.

When they reached the Great Hall and he began to lead her to the second table, she squeezed his arm. "I want to sit with you guys," she said, and he stopped entirely.

"You're not sitting at the Slytherin table. You're a Ravenclaw." He sounded slightly exasperated, as if he were a parent telling off their child for something they always do wrong.

Valentine smiled. "Yes, but I want to sit at your table. It's not against the rules; I've checked, and Ginny sits at Ravenclaw sometimes."

"I don't care," Draco replied, "you are not sitting at the Slytherin table. Snape won't let you."

"You mean you won't let me," Valentine pointed out. "I'll call Pansy over."

Draco sighed heavily, sounding hard-done-by, and shifted so that he was pulling her by the wrist. His grip was just a little too hard. When they arrived at the table he pushed her down next to Pansy, who touched her other wrist briefly. "Here's your pet," Draco told her as he sat down.

Valentine smiled.

*

Arithmancy had been brilliant.

Of course, everything that had led her to joining the class had been rather tedious; Dumbledore had refused several times, in their beginning-of-year meeting, to let her join the class. Eventually, however, with much complaining about not being able to do Transfiguration and having to sit out of Quidditch lessons in first year, a split-second choice to quit Muggle Studies (that she would miss, of course, but what was the point in it?) and a well-placed lie that she had been planning to drop it all along to convince Dumbledore to give her a chance.

He had sighed lightly and questioned her abilities, but Valentine had been studying Arithmancy since last Christmas to get used to it, so Dumbledore had eventually allowed her to join the class. On a trial basis, he had insisted, to see if she could handle a lesson that difficult a year before she should.

Valentine had grinned widely, thanked the Slytherins for their influence, and had sat between Hermione and Pansy in the last twenty minutes of the first class.

And her goodness was Arithmancy a great lesson. They had gone straight into it, all symbols and numbers, and Pansy and Hermione were so involved with the work that they barely even argued.

At that point, it was looking to be a good first day.

However, when lunch had come and gone, the day changed entirely. She had sat with the Gryffindors that lunch, happily chatting away to Hermione about their first lesson, and then she had left with Luna and Ginny for Defense Against The Dark Arts.

The teacher, Professor Lupin, reminded her of chocolate and was therefore a pleasant presence. "I understand that last year your teacher was--less than up to standards," he explained, approaching the front of the classroom. "So I'd like to go over some of the things you should have learnt in your first year. What I've learnt from Professor Lockhart's notes is that he taught about--well, himself." Lupin sounded slightly sheepish and the class laughed.

"I do hope we're better prepared for the exams this year," Luna said in Valentine's ear, and she nodded, leaning forward slightly as she listened to Professor Lupin.

"So, though I'd like to start a bit more hands-on, we'd better go over some of the fundamental aspects of the Dark Arts, hadn't we? Can anyone tell me what makes a spell Dark?"

There was a slight murmur across the class, but of course as well as the Gryffindors there were Ravenclaws present. "Sir?"

"Yes, Miss...?" Lupin trailed off.

"Poublan-Belle. Adele Poublan-Belle," Adele introduced herself. "It would be down to the will behind the spell, wouldn't it, sir?"

"Very good, Adele, five points to Ravenclaw. All magic is generally neutral; it's the intent that changes it. It can all be used for good or bad. However," his voice dropped, and the class was completely silent in listening to him, "some magic is bad altogether. It cannot be used for anything but bad. We call these spells curses."

"But are all curses--?" Ginny began to ask, then hesitated upon realising that she hadn't held up her hand.

Lupin's smile was evident in his voice. "No, Miss--Weasley, yes?" Ginny must have responded though nodding, because he went on: "Simply using a curse doesn't make magic bad. It does, ultimately, come down to the intent." He paused. "Magical theory can be difficult to understand--the easiest way to consider Dark Arts is dark intent. You should have done some kind of essay on this in first year--" He sighed.

Ginny groaned quietly. "I hope he doesn't make us do an essay now..."

"But I'll let you off from that," Lupin continued. "I'd rather just do a quick lesson on theory now and go into the good stuff next lesson."

"But if it's all down to intent, what makes a dark creature a dark creature?" Valentine asked. She had meant to direct the question to Ginny and Luna, but due to the quietness of the class, was caught out by Lupin.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" he said, phrasing the statement like a question. Valentine smiled at him.

"Valentine Baruti," she replied.

Lupin paused, then cleared his throat. "You're Finley Valentine's daughter?" he asked. She lifted her head slightly, wondering for his sudden awkwardness, but it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared. "Well, Valentine, what can you tell me about dark creatures?"

"They seek to harm," she said, a light frown over her features. "Not like animals. They don't harm to eat, it's not as--natural as that. They harm for the sake of harming."

"They're physical extensions of dark intentions, five points," Lupin filled in for her. "Can you name any? Apart from the obvious that we encountered on the train."

"Werewolves," she said, and Lupin fell quiet again.

The pause seemed to last for a little too long, before his voice filled the void again, back to light and informing. "Yes, but they aren't always dark creatures. Just when they're out of their human form," he pointed out. Valentine wanted to disagree, as her werewolf had been in human form when--but she decided against it. "Can anyone else name any dark creatures?"

Luna was happily rattling off information about Pogrebins, and Valentine was actively wondering if they were another of her mythological creatures (judging by Lupin's enthusiastic response, they probably weren't), when the door burst open and Hermione's slightly breathless voice entered.

"I'm--so sorry for interrupting the lesson, Professor, really, but--Valentine." Surprised, Valentine stood and reached for Hermione. After first year--it was still hard not to panic for Hermione, sometimes. "It's Malfoy."

Valentine frowned, and took a few steps toward the voice, careful not to trip over anything on the floor. "What did he do to you? I'll kill him--"

"No, no," Hermione interrupted, reaching out a hand and stopping Valentine. "He's hurt. Buckbeak - this Hippogriff - and he insulted it, and--"

Her heart palpitated. "Take me to the hospital wing," she demanded, then hesitated. "Er, Rra, can I--?"

"Of course, Valentine," Lupin replied, and he sounded less like chocolate. "Go."

Hermione grasped her arm properly and pulled her out of the classroom and down the hall. "It was his own fault," she said, still sounding slightly out of breath. "But--I thought you should--"

"Yeah," Valentine agreed. "How--How bad is it?"

"There was a lot of blood," Hermione admitted, and Valentine thought, oh God, oh goodness, not blood, I hate blood, blood should stay inside the body where it belongs--

They remained in silence save their short breaths, until Hermione finally pulled to a stop. "I shouldn't go in," she admitted. "Parkinson's already in there, I think, and--"

Valentine threw herself into a quick hug, which seemed to surprise Hermione, and she stayed shock-still until the moment before Valentine pulled herself away. "Thank you."

With that she opened the door and entered the hospital wing, where last she'd been terrified for Hermione, and--Draco's voice. "Pansy, I'm--it hurts a lot," he admitted, the strain in his voice. "But really..."

"Oh, Draco," Pansy replied, voice having gone soft and weepy. "I thought you'd died--Valentine."

"How are you?" Valentine asked, approaching the voices, and Pansy's hands helped seat her near Draco's bed. "Hermione Granger came and got me--are you all right?"

"It hurts a lot," Draco whined, and there was a soft, delicate noise as Pansy plumped up his pillows.

"Is there anything you need, Draco?" she asked, tenderly. "Anything I can get you?"

Draco sniffed, and Pansy made a small noise, as if she were about to cry. "Nothing, I'm sure, Pans," Draco replied.

"I'm just going to go wash my face." Pansy's slightly trembling voice changed angles as she stood, and hiccoughed slightly. "Just a moment..."

When she was out of the room, Valentine sighed. "Should I ask for more painkillers?"

"No need," Draco replied, voice suddenly changing back to the strong drawl. "Funny when she thinks I'm hurt, isn't she? Evil cow."

Valentine wanted to stand up for Pansy, she really did, but she ended up laughing instead. After all, the thought of Pansy changing abruptly from hitting Draco and ordering him around to being tender and sweet--and Draco using this change--

When Madam Pomfrey entered the room, she scoffed at Draco and Valentine, trying to laugh quietly as to not let on to Pansy what was happening.

"Oh, Draco," Draco mocked her, and Valentine laughed harder.

"I thought you'd died," she added, snickering.

When Pansy reentered, the pair of them fell silent, and Draco went back to whining about the pain. As Pansy fawned over him once again, Valentine smiled and added, "You're such a wuss."

*

"What's happened?" Valentine asked Ginny as they were ordered into their sleeping bags. "Why do we have to sleep here?"

Ginny dropped on top of her sleeping bag, and her voice sounded scared. "It's Sirius Black. He's in the castle."

Valentine sat down with her, ignoring the buzz of the other students excitedly trading theories, and leant into her. "Who's Sirius Black?"

"He's--How can you not know who Sirius Black is? He's all over the Prophet," Ginny exclaimed, and Valentine pointed to her eyes. Ginny let out a slightly wavering breath. "Oh, yeah. Well, I suppose living in Africa doesn't help--He was a traitor in the First War," she said.

"The war that my father was in?" Valentine asked; she remembered some stories about the war. Her father hadn't necessarily seen himself as belonging to either side, but her mother had been a muggle and he worked for the Ministry.

"The war against You Know Who," Ginny replied, sounding nervous. "He--Sirius Black, he was friends with Harry's parents, but then he turned against them and gave them up to You Know Who, and killed one of their friends." She hesitated. "I don't know all the details, people don't like to talk about it, but--he's a bad man."

Valentine thought to Professor Snape, who was prejudiced and sarcastic and really, really amusing. "Everyone has a different perspective on bad people, Gin."

"Yeah, but--no. Black's a bad man. He's after Harry, he wants to--to kill him." Ginny's voice dropped to a whisper on the word 'kill', and Valentine leaned forward to touch her, hand resting on her leg.

"Why Potter?" Valentine asked, concerned. She'd never really liked Potter very much; not for any particular reason towards dislike, though. She had never gotten around the hero worship and awe that most people were wrapped up in, and, to be frank, the fact that Ginny became less Ginny-like and so small and awkward around him irritated her.

"Because," Ginny told her, "Black's a bad man."

"The lights are going out now!" Ginny's other brother, Percy, shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

Valentine didn't know exactly when the lights went out, but within a few minutes she had climbed inside her sleeping bag, and Ginny was breathing steadily and evenly next to her. Luna had joined them moments after the call for lights-out, and had touched her hair gently and said hello, but her breathing was easy and sleeping, too.

She sighed and lay on her back, eyes open through habit. There was still a quiet buzz of chatter throughout the Great Hall, but it faded before long, and Valentine was enveloped by the silence and the everlasting darkness.

However, she wasn't alone for long. Soon enough, a shuffling noise sounded, careful and quiet but distinct to ears that had to listen for more than what was usually expected, and another body settled close. "Hey, you," a voice whispered.

"Cedric!" Valentine exclaimed, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. "I've hardly seen you--well, you know what I mean. How've you been?"

"All right," he replied. "Muggle Studies is pretty dull without you."

"I should expect," Valentine teased, then paused. "Cedric, do you think this Sirius Black is really going to kill Potter?"

Cedric shifted as he settled, and let out a deep breath. "Who's to know? I hope not."

"D'you like him? Potter, I mean?" She leant her head on his chest and felt tiredness finally enveloping her. Perhaps it was due to feeling safe.

Cedric hummed, and Valentine could feel the tremors throughout his body. "I don't really know him, Val."

"Yeah," Valentine said, unsure of what she was agreeing to. "Draco doesn't like him at all."

Cedric's palm was warm against the back of her neck, and his fingers threaded through her locked braids. "He's a Malfoy, so that's hardly a surprise." After a moment, he added: "I think I might like Cho."

Valentine smiled, and turned her face further into his chest. His smell was just like safety. "I know," she said, before falling asleep in Cedric's arms.

She hadn't felt that safe since being in her father's embrace.

*

"Baruti. Baruti. Valentine. Quidditch, c'mon."

"She doesn't go to Quidditch matches, Malfoy."

"I can speak for myself, Ginny," Valentine replied, ripping her toast into small pieces. "I don't go to Quidditch matches, Malfoy."

Ginny snickered and bumped her elbow, and Valentine sent a small smile in her direction.

She wanted the pork, she could smell it; it was probably right in front of her. Valentine swallowed before turning her face back to the general vicinity that Draco's voice seemed to be coming from. "That's nonsense. Pansy and I are going, and Gryffindor is playing your Hufflepuff friend. You're coming with us."

"Draco." Resist the meat. For all goodness, she hadn't eaten meat in her life. Why did it seem to be getting worse? "I can't go. There'll be people everywhere, bumping into me and moving around and putting things on the floor to be tripped over. It's not plausible."

"You'll have me on one side and Pansy on the other. We'll make sure you're all right," Draco pointed out. "There are bets going on as to who's going to win. I'd know; I started them."

"And we'd be there," Ginny pointed out, knocking her with her elbow again.

"Right," Luna added. "The four of us, we'll be a team."

Draco scoffed loudly. "No," he answered for them. "I don't think so. Pansy and I will be able to keep you upright just fine."

And just like that, Valentine saw the possibility. "No, actually... If all four of you commit to keeping me from dying or losing track of the game, I think I'll join you."

Draco scoffed again, except now he was beginning to sound exasperated; if she wasn't carefully entertaining, he'd get bored and leave pretty soon. "Pansy and I won't stay with you."

"I see your point," Valentine added. "I too am occasionally scared that if Ginny and Luna meet Pansy, they'll take over the world in a matter of months." At the silence that followed this sentence, she added: "Of course, if you and I stopped bickering, we'd be there in weeks. With my ability to manipulate and your brains..." Another pause. "Draco? You still there?"

"You got your pronouns wrong," Draco explained slowly. "Your brains and my ability to manipulate."

Valentine grinned wickedly. "No, really. You're mostly ahead of me in class and understanding people, and even though I'm way better at figuring out problems there's not much likelihood of world domination being put down to Sudoku, and I can manipulate you out of... a plastic... bag..." She trailed off, looking confused. "That wasn't right, was it?"

"You're insane," Draco replied automatically, and Luna and Ginny both made acquiescing noises. "I don't need your agreement."

Valentine sighed. "Draco, just give them a chance. Really, Ravenclaws can't be that bad; you spend almost every day with me."

"I know, Baruti, but a Gryffindor?" Draco whined, and judging by the noise and the sudden hiss of pain, kicked one of the table-legs.

"Ginny's not your average Gryffindor. She's kind of like Pansy actually. Sorry. Ginny." She attempted an apologetic expression to Ginny, at her right. "But she's got that mean temper on her. Redhead thing. Except, when Pansy gets all quiet and threatening and, y'know, scary, Ginny just kind of..." She trailed off for a moment, then smiled. "Reacts."

"I don't like Gryffindors," Draco reinforced, going back to speaking in the careful tone that meant he was consciously thinking she was insane, stupid, or possibly (probably) both.

Ginny's cutlery cluttered against the plate for a moment, and Valentine wished for what wasn't the first time that she could see her expression. It was probably something like a pretty, freckled, warm version of a Pansy expression. Which would be a pale, dark-haired, cold version of Ginny's.

Well... she had very little comparison to go by.

Eventually, Ginny let out a breath and a smile graced her voice. "My brother Ron hates me sitting at the Ravenclaw table, and he's glaring daggers right now. You hanging out with me would annoy him so much."

"You have a deal," Draco told her. "But I refuse to call you 'Ginny' or 'Ginevra'. You will be the Weaslette."

"This doesn't fare well with me," Ginny replied, but she sounded more amused than bothered. "Unless I can come up with a nickname for you. How about Princess Malfoy?"

There was a horrified pause, in which Luna laughed and was shut up by a quick movement of Valentine's hand on her arm. "If you ever call me that, I will rip your face off. You would have to arrange that disturbingly bright red hair all around your head." He made a disgusted noise.

"Are we really talking about disturbingly bright hair, Blondie?" Ginny asked, and Valentine was inexplicably proud of how she was handling this. "Because at least mine looks like a natural colour, and isn't going to fall out by the time I'm forty. Oh, your father might have all of his hair now, but give it three of four years..." She trailed off. "And shouldn't you be in the match today?"

"Hufflepuff's playing instead, Weaslette, keep up. I'm injured, remember?" He said all of this in a patronising voice, and Valentine snorted at the statement of injury. "Let's go."

"It's raining outside," Luna said. She'd been quiet thus far, and now the angle of her voice showed that she had her head tilted back to look at the enchanted ceiling. "The ground will be slippery."

Valentine took in a deep breath and stood, accidentally knocking the back of her knees against the bench; she lost balance for a moment, and the hand on her arm was Draco's. "Thanks. Are you guys done eating?"

"No," Luna replied, still from the strange angle.

"The game isn't for a while. You guys take a walk out there, and we'll meet you--where are we going to watch the game from?" Ginny interrupted herself, and Valentine felt a problem coming on.

"Slytherin," Draco answered stiffly, in a tone that said there was no room for debate.

However... "Draco, there'll be a fight. We could stand in Ravenclaw. Or in Hufflepuff."

"Or in Gryffindor," Luna suggested, and Valentine turned her head to face her. "Really. You like annoying Ronald, and the best way would be to show up in Gryffindor during the game."

Valentine put a hand over her heart. "You're learning the Slytherin mindset, Luna, I'm so proud of you."

Draco huffed and tugged on her arm. "If they injure me further then I'll get them expelled. Gryffindor idiots. "

Valentine listened as Ginny made a somewhat offended but mostly amused sound, and a small noise of impact suggested that she had hit him somehow. Gryffindors and Slytherins; two houses, both alike in idiocy. Valentine switched their grip so that it was her holding Draco and made to pull him away.

"Tsamaya sentle," Luna said, and the words sent a small, warm feeling expanding in her stomach.

"Sala sentle," she replied, before walking away with Draco.

Draco's arm was solid and thin through his robes, and Valentine, in her rush of affection for Luna, felt it transfer slightly to Draco. Sure, he was an idiot, but he was her idiot, all warm and pliant and sarcastic.

"What were you saying back there?" Draco demanded to know, before leading her around something on the ground. "Spilled soup," he explained.

"'Go well' and 'stay well'. Luna's trying to learn some Setswana for me. She can count to twelve, and say most of the important phrases, and can ask where the clinic is for... some reason." Valentine shook her head. "It took me longer to pick up the language than it is for her. I bought her a Setswana-English dictionary for Christmas; it's a very Ravenclaw-y gift. I know you said you didn't want anything this Christmas, but what about next Christmas?"

Draco was getting better at letting her ramble; instead of trying to interfere he let her run out of words, then replied, "I don't celebrate Christmas."

"Don't celebrate Christmas?" Valentine asked, surprised. "I mean--fair enough, yes, I understand that you may not be religious, but..."

Draco was tugging at her arm to keep her walking. "Twelve steps down. Hold my arm properly. Proper families of pure blood have a Yule celebration, but it doesn't include something as mundane as gifts. The actual holidays of Christmas and Easter are only celebrated by muggle-lovers like the Weasleys," he drawled, drawing out the word as if it were dirty. "It's been picked up from the muggles. They don't accept our customs and we shouldn't accept theirs."

Valentine nodded, not in agreement but to show that she was listening. "But it's a nice custom. And anyway, most people who celebrate it don't even believe in a virgin birth; I sure don't." It was raining outside; she'd realised it when Luna had warned them, and even through the noise, but she still wasn't quite prepared for the onslaught of rain. "Oh, eurgh." Her braids were soaked, and it was cold; goodness, how she missed the Kalahari warmth. "Pansy bought me books for the last two Christmases."

"Because she knew that you celebrate Christmas and was trying to be a friend," Draco informed her, shaking his head so that droplets of water hit her in the face.

"Draco!" she scorned, laughing.

"My father sent me a letter this morning," Draco said. It was a tone of voice that was used only for statements that started with 'my father'. "I mentioned you when I was complaining about the... limited intelligence of certain staff members." Goodness, he was so annoying when he was doing his 'my father' bit. "He told me that your family are traitors and muggles."

Valentine stopped walking and tugged him so that he stopped too, pulling him close for the heat. "Didn't you say they were friends?"

His face was close to hers now, radiating heat and cold at the same time, and he pressed his forehead to her hairline. "He didn't sound too fond of your father, but my mother did say that they were friends in school. Then he married some muggle."

"That 'some muggle' would actually be my mother," Valentine pointed out. Draco's hair was sticking to her face, now; she could tell, because all of hers was braided.

Draco nodded, and his hair dripped against her face uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know. Half-blood."

"Pure-blood," Valentine replied, smiling slightly.

It felt like he was raising an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be an insult?"

"Is half-blood?" She smiled properly at him now.

Draco laughed slightly, in that warm, pretty way that had first made her consider him Draco. Then he hesitated. "It's so weird. It's like you're looking at me, but you're not quite looking at me."

Valentine closed her eyelids. "Now I might just have my eyes closed."

Draco made another noise as if he were about to say something, and Valentine was comfortably cold, pressed against Draco's arm as it was still in the sling, but another voice cut through their moment. "There you are!"

"Pansy," Valentine greeted, pulling away from Draco slightly.

Pansy stopped and huffed, and the rhythm of the rain increased slightly. "I've been looking for you two everywhere. Had to ask your insane second-year friends where you'd disappeared to, and you're both drenched! Draco Malfoy, you're injured, do you want to be ill, too?"

"It only hurts when I move it, Pansy," Draco replied, a voice that literally sounded like a wince. Valentine opened her eyes again to roll them.

Pansy sighed and moved closer. "Oh, you poor thing. Come on, we may as well actually go to the Quidditch match; I'm not getting my hair wet for nothing!"

Being pulled toward the Quidditch pitch, Pansy in the lead, Valentine smiled and wondered how they were going to break the news that they would be standing in Gryffindor...

Ah, well. They were off to more important things, like watching Cedric beat Potter in Quidditch.

Pansy's eventual reaction was silent, which was somewhat disappointing. If there were any movements or small noises, they were drowned out by the sound of rain on grass, heavy and slapping and deep. Valentine imagined that she was standing there, dark hair a mess, mouth agape at the fact that Draco Malfoy just insisted they stand in Gryffindor.

But she was just imagining, as always. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Watch your language," Valentine piped up, and was ignored.

"No, Pans, think about it, would anything annoy the Gryffindors more?"

Valentine imagined that breaking into their dorm rooms and painting their bars of soap with white nail polish would probably annoy them a little more, but chose to keep quiet about this fact; she was in the presence of Slytherin sociopaths, after all.

"I can think of a few things," Pansy replied, reminding Valentine of why she loved her so much. "None of which include us contaminating ourselves with them."

"Gryffindor isn't contagious," Valentine said, reaching out to grasp Draco's arm again. "Really. If anything, Slytherin's the contagious house. Bravery isn't. Mostly, watching a bunch of brave fools ruin themselves makes the rest of us want to sit back and think first."

Pansy didn't say anything for a long moment, but then she laughed and the noise moved. "Come on, then."

"We won?" Valentine asked, gripping Draco's arm so tightly that he tried to shake her off. "We won? Draco, do you know what this means?" By the time she was done talking, Draco had already began to drag her to stands of the Quidditch pitch. "Draco?"

"You're insane, Baruti," Draco replied, raising his voice as the buzz of chatter rose in volume. Valentine pulled him back for a moment and shook her head, thin braids hitting her in the face as she did so. "Gryffindor?"

"To Gryffindor!" she agreed, flinging one hand out to point like a Superhero and accidentally hitting someone she didn't realise was there. "Sorry! Sorry."

"It's all right, Valentine, it's me," Hermione's voice sounded, and a hand landed gently between her shoulder blades. "What are you doing here? Ravenclaw's to the right, and Slytherin's over there, Malfoy."

"We're standing in Gryffindor," Valentine said chirpily. "Take me to Gryffindor."

Hermione let out a huff of breath. "You can't stand in Gryffindor, Valentine, you're a Ravenclaw."

Valentine smiled. "Of course I am; I'm smart. But there's no rule saying that we can't stand in Gryffindor."

Hermione hesitated, and Draco began to snicker. "Scanning your brain for the rule, Granger?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, sounding more irritated than was wholly necessary. Draco snickered again, and they began to move, this time weaving between Gryffindors.

Valentine had never done too well in crowds, even before the blindness. She supposed it had something to do with the protectiveness of her father; he'd never wanted too many people to be close to her, especially if nobody was keeping an eye out for her safety.

A whole lot of help that had been, in the end.

"What're they doing here?" Ginny's Ron asked, sounding surprised and somewhat disgusted.

"Ron," Ginny scorned, then moved closer. "They're all standing with us today."

"And just to be particularly annoying, we'll be cheering for Hufflepuff," Valentine added, smiling in Ron's direction.

"We will?" Pansy asked, sounding weary of the idea.

Someone's arm was pressed into her back, and then there was a shift and Pansy draped both arms over her shoulders, leaning on her from behind. "It's Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, Pans," Valentine pointed out, leaning back into the embrace.

"I'm cheering for Gryffindor," Ginny pointed out, and Ron scoffed.

"Not sure there's even any point, now that you're more interested in Ravenclaws and Slytherins," Ron said, sounding rather put-out.

Luna, somewhere near Ginny, said, "I'm cheering for Gryffindor, too." There was a smile in her voice, and Valentine laughed.

When the game began, the rain only got harder. Pansy was draped across her and shivering slightly, and the body warmth was a little comfort, but her teeth still chattered in her smile. On top of that, the Gryffindors surrounding them kept making comments as to their presence, and Draco... wasn't helping.

"What's wrong, Potter? You blind or something?" he called into the cold air, laughing and occasionally cheering Hufflepuff on. This was surprising, but Draco's laugh made confusion feel unnecessary, and Pansy's warmth was soothing in the harsh onslaught of rain.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron yelled at him, and then his voice changed angles. "D'you think he can actually see anything with those glasses on?"

Pansy shifted against her back and pointed out, "They're taking time-out. Maybe..."

"I've got an idea," Hermione exclaimed, and then added, "Watch it!" as Draco fell into Valentine slightly.

"You knocked into me, you Mudblood idiot," Draco muttered, and Valentine kicked him.

"Behave," she insisted, and ran one hand over her soaking braids. She hated the rain. "I miss Chad. Chad is hot."

There was another pause, and then Ginny asked, "Who is Chad?"

"Chad," Valentine replied, and to the opposing silence from her friends, added: "I just like the sand in Chad."

"The... what?" Draco asked, sounding slightly offended.

Pansy laughed in Valentine's ear, and everything about her was warm. "I think she means the country Chad, Draco," she informed him, and the Quidditch game resumed.

Draco was still laughingly cheering Hufflepuff on, and after a while Pansy joined in, still leaning on Valentine's back. She had no actual idea what was going on; the commentary was rushed and hard to keep up with, and nobody was bothering to actually explain the rules of the game. The only real clues came from who cheered at which point. It seemed that Gryffindor were ahead, as Pansy and Draco were often shouting insults rather than support.

And then something odd happened.

The noise stopped.

For one panicked moment, Valentine thought she had gone deaf, but then Pansy's sharp breath in her ear told her she was wrong. Silence had swept the stands, and her friend's arms were retracting.

A cold dread brushed through her and settled, deep in her bones. The weather was no longer an issue; the cold was coming from within.

What am I doing? Valentine felt herself think, and moved to wrap her arms around herself. She was... She was in a crowd of people, who were--people weren't to be trusted. And, and God, goodness, some of these people had been raised by the pure ignorance of muggles--

No, she demanded, trying to push the thoughts away. But no amount of denial would erase the truth; her father had been on the wrong side of his war.

"Harry!" Ginny's voice cut through her mind.

She had to get out of there.

Valentine suddenly snapped into action, pushing past Pansy and trying to make her way through the invisible bodies pressing into her. She managed to get out of the Gryffindor stands and was starting to run in the direction that Hogwarts may or may not have been in.

And then somebody pulled her back and held her too tightly, and the cold rush was fading away. "They're going," a voice said in her ear. "Dumbledore's sent them away, calm down."

"Who--?" Valentine asked, but then she was being moved again.

"Here," the voice said, and dumped Valentine in another set of arms. "Try to keep an eye on her, will you?"

"Don't tell me what to do, Vaisey," Pansy snapped. Pansy had followed her. "You all right?"

Valentine nodded, tucking her head into the crook of Pansy's neck. "Where's Ginny?"

"I'm here," Ginny's voice sounded from behind Pansy, and after a moment of movement a hand held her arm. "Harry--"

"He's all right," Pansy snapped at her. "Dumbledore slowed him down. I wasn't in hysterics at the time, Weasley."

"Cedric caught the snitch," Luna said, sounding irritatingly unaffected by the Dementors, the rain, or struggling out of the crowd.

When Draco joined them he was laughing coldly, and Valentine closed her useless eyes.

*

When Hermione slapped Draco, Valentine laughed so hard she thought she was going to wet herself. Luckily, she didn't.

Draco was being a complete moron about--well, something Valentine wasn't paying too much attention to. He was talking about the man with the tall, rough voice, anyway, and then smack!

Valentine laughed just remembering it, hanging from Draco's arm as he tried to swing her off.

"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul--you evil--" Hermione sounded really wound up, and Draco managed to fling Valentine off his arm. She fell to sit on the ground, still laughing uncontrollably.

"Hermione!" Ron said weakly, and Hermione's angry breath was loud, even though Valentine's laughter filled every corner of the hall.

"Get off, Ron!" she snapped back. Draco was completely silent.

"That was almost better than when I socked him in the face!" Valentine yelled, and wished more than ever that she could see, just so that she could burn Draco's expression into her memory.

Draco huffed. "C'mon," he muttered to the idiot-twins, before they walked away, leaving Valentine on the floor.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, sounding bewildered and amazed, and Valentine only laughed harder.

"Oh, goodness, goodness, please tell me that one of you taped that!"

"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said in a high-pitched voice. Her agitation only made everything funnier for Valentine. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin win!"

"I'll root for Gryffindor," Valentine assured her from the floor. "I bet I can get Pansy to, too, if I tell her about what just happened!"

Hermione made a small noise, then helped Valentine up. "We're due in Charms," Ron said, still sounding disorientated. "We'd better go."

"I'm going to walk Valentine to her next class," Hermione disagreed. "What do you have?"

"Herbology. Sure you can handle being that late?" Valentine asked, eyes still bright and a laugh hidden in her words.

Hermione's hand brushed her shoulder blade, before whispering: "Ever heard of a time-turner?"

It only took one moment of surprise before Valentine's smile widened. "Cool. Can we go back and watch you slap Draco again, please? Please?"

"Isn't he your friend?" Hermione asked, with her voice laced into confusion. "You laugh at him getting hurt a lot."

"Sure, that's what friends do." A pause. "Isn't it?"

*

"I'm not sure about this; I've heard some... things about Draco's father," Valentine pointed out, pulling at the sleeves of her robes uncomfortably as they walked. "I'm staying here for Easter to get away from insane adults, not to--"

"You stay here for Easter because you have nowhere else to go," Pansy snapped back at her. "And you should be grateful that I stayed back with you - my parents wanted me to come home for the week."

Valentine lowered her head, trying not to smile, and replied, "Well, I guess I got told."

Pansy knocked into her arm. "Draco wouldn't have suggested I bring you along for lunch if he thought his parents couldn't handle it," she pointed out.

"He wrote 'bring your pet along if you must'," Valentine reminded her. "That's hardly an--"

"Get over it," Pansy cut in. Valentine took in a deep breath. She'd only really agreed to come because she thought Dumbledore would outright refuse to let her go, but when the discussion had started her stubbornness had overruled the fact that she didn't actually want permission. And for once, winning seemed a lot like losing.

Then, to top everything off, Aunt Letato had given Dumbledore permission to let her go. She seemed to have remembered the Malfoys as friends of her father's, and therefore judged them trustworthy.

So, after the brief fuss, they had been let out into Hogsmeade for Easter afternoon, though they had to be back in time for dinner. Pansy had explained to her that actually, their parents wanted she and Draco to get married in the future - hence the fact that they were literally forced together since infanthood. Valentine found this fact hilarious, but the prospect of meeting the Malfoys after everything that Ginny had said about them...

"Aren't you supposed to be thrilled?" Pansy asked, knocking against her arm. "You've been let out into Hogsmeade a year early."

"Almost everywhere is closed and I'm facing my impending doom," Valentine reminded her, nudging her back. Laughing, Pansy flung an arm over her shoulders.

"Okay," she said under her breath. "We're approaching doom. To the left is Narcissa Malfoy, and to the right is Lucius. Try to be polite. And don't speak Setswana."

Valentine squeezed her arm in thanks, and then smiled widely in the general direction she thought the Malfoys were in. "Pansy," a slightly cold female voice greeted, then paused. "And... Finley Valentine's daughter."

"It's Valentine," she said in the direction of the voice, then held her hand out. "Valentine Baruti."

"They named you after their surnames. How... quaint," a male voice cut in, and Valentine faltered as she shook Draco's mother's hand.

"Lucius," Naricissa's voice sounded, as she let go of Valentine's hand. She didn't bother holding her hand out for his father. "Shall we go... in?"

Pansy, who still had one arm around her, leaned in again as they began to walk. "The Malfoys are used to everything high-class. The Three Broomsticks is practically a pile of dirt to them."

"So," Narcissa began as they sat down; it was like she was trying to break the awkward silence. "Draco tells me you have quite the left-hook, Miss Baruti."

Valentine choked on her own breath and stumbled as she moved to sit down. "Er..."

"Mother!" Draco complained, and then Valentine began to laugh.

"Your son is clearly my soulmate, Mma, I never miss," she replied, still laughing in a slightly nervous manner.

"A common brute, just like your father," Lucius said under his breath. "What drinks do they even serve in this place, Draco?"

There was a small moment of silence, and then Valentine asked, "What? No--what?"

"Lucius," Narcissa scorned, "do not bait Draco's friend. I'll have some nettle wine. I trust you still drink nettle wine, my dear?" Though her voice was still slightly stiff and cold, there was an underlying mothering quality.

Lucius Malfoy, however, Valentine did not like.

"Still nettle wine, Narcissa, but just the one glass today. Thank you," Pansy replied, and Valentine leaned into her slightly.

"I'll have a cherry syrup and soda, please, Father," Draco said from across the table to her, and then Valentine sensed that she was being watched.

"Er, butterbeer, Rra," Valentine said, tugging at one of her braids.

She let out a breath that she didn't realise was being held when his footsteps trailed away. "Baruti, calm down," Draco said quietly to her.

Valentine grinned at him. "You mother knows I punched you. Why would your mother know I punched you?"

"He wrote about it," Narcissa replied, sounding slightly amused. "Three feet of parchment on nothing else."

"Mother!" Draco whined again, and Lucius returned, another set of footsteps behind him. A few small noises indicated that the waitress or waiter was setting the drinks down on the table.

"Don't let me have more than one glass, Narcissa," Pansy said, a smile in her voice. "You know what I get like."

"I shouldn't know, Pansy, you're thirteen," Narcissa replied. Valentine took a big gulp of butterbeer, trying to pretend that she wasn't there. "Lucius, she's twelve, stop giving her that look."

"What look?" Valentine asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. "No, seriously, you have to fill me in. That's not fair."

"Doesn't she look like that muggle," Lucius asked, the tone of the question making it sound more like a statement. "One would never know you have a drop of pure blood in you."

"Funny, that," Valentine replied, feeling that a war was coming on, "because my father was a pure-blood and didn't seem to think that Nazism was the only way to go."

"A traitor to his own blood," Lucius replied, around the same time that Draco asked, "What's Nazism?"

"Why don't you ask your father about his involvement in the war against You-Know-Who?" Valentine asked, shaping her words in the same cold manner that Lucius had. Well, if they were going to play dirty, so be it. She just hoped he didn't ask for details, because her own father had never explained that much about the war.

Lucius' voice was suddenly closer. "You have no idea what you are talking about, you impertinent child. I should have known you would be just like your mother. Finley Valentine could have been great if it weren't for her."

"What?" Valentine asked, nerves transforming into anger. "Great like you? Pretending not to believe in your Nazi ideals in order to fit into a world where all the power you have revolves around the lie that you were under a curse?" And again, the information was borrowed from Ginny.

She could practically hear Lucius snarl. "Alive."

Valentine almost missed the table when she hit her hands down, and something wet seeped around her palm. She must have knocked over her bottle. "My father--"

"Draco," Lucius interrupted. "Come with me, please."

Pansy's hands shifted to clasp her own, but Valentine snatched it away. She knew that coming here would be a mistake. She should never have agreed to come, and goodness, Draco should never have suggested that she joined them. "I apologise on my husband's behalf."

"What?" Valentine asked, then closed her mouth, feeling like an idiot.

Narcissa cleared her throat. "He and your father were close when they were younger. They practically ruled Slytherin. And even though Finley was neutral at the beginning of the war, they still stayed close. Until he met your mother."

Valentine pursed her lips, and finally let Pansy's fingers close around her wrist. "I didn't know any of this."

"Nobody expected you to," Narcissa replied. "When your mother and father married - just after she found herself pregnant, I think - Kingsley Shacklebolt was your father's best man."

"I remember Kingsley," Valentine replied, feeling slightly sapped of energy now that the anger had faded.

Narcissa sighed. "I think Lucius was mostly just offended. They'd only met earlier that year, and Kinsgley was eighteen when your father was twenty-seven. Lucius had tried to change his mind about the wedding, but it didn't work."

Valentine pulled away from Pansy and nodded. "I'm just going to the bathroom. I'll... be right back." She stood up, then paused. "Direction?"

"Walk to your right and you'll find the bar. Follow it away from this table, and when it gets to the wall, there's the main door to both bathrooms," Pansy said, then the angle of her voice changed as she turned to Narcissa. "Can I have another glass of nettle wine?"

When Narcissa laughed, it was like how Draco laughed when he was surprised: warm and pretty and clear.

She tripped over someone's foot on the way to the bar, and the sudden lurch made her head spin, but she managed to catch her balance and grip the polished wooden side. There were stools just in front of the bar, too, so she had to adjust herself to be able to follow the bar and look out for the stools.

All in all, it took about five minutes to get to the very edge of the bar, and by this point she was wishing she had just asked for help. Valentine always had tried to be independent to a certain degree; though she would usually welcome the hand on her arm, when it came to a small space, sometimes it just felt more normal to be able to pass it on her own.

She put one hand on the wall and felt to the door, but when she opened it slightly to the hallway with the male and female doors, she heard familiar voices.

"... Have no idea what that family is like, Draco," Lucius was explaining. "And the girl seems no better. The way she spoke to me..."

"She's just a bit--"

"Do not interrupt me, Draco." Valentine didn't like the tone of his voice; she certainly didn't like the way that Draco fell silent at his command. "I don't want you befriending her sort. She's a liability and the offspring of a blood traitor and a muggle. Do I make myself clear?"

"Father..." There was a pause, and Valentine dragged her nails down the wood of the door, thinking desperately that Draco had to stand up for her here. "Yes. I understand."

"So you'll let her know that you can't be friends anymore," Lucius went off, sounding somewhat pleased.

Valentine's breath caught in her throat. "But--" Please, Draco, come on. "It's Easter."

"Then tomorrow, Draco," Lucius drawled.

There was a brief pause. "Yes, Father. I understand."

Valentine frowned and closed the door gently, before turning around and walking back in the direction she came.

She tripped more on the way back, because she concentrated less on staying upright, and paused briefly at Pansy's voice. "Valentine! What's--"

"I'm going back to Hogwarts," she said, voice feeling more difficult than usual. She cleared her throat, but it still felt too tight. "See you later, Pans. Mma Malfoy, it was a pleasure to meet you."

"Wait! Valentine, what's wrong? I'll come with you," Pansy said, her voice changing position as she stood.

Valentine let out a breath. "No, Pans, you stay here. Catch up. I'll see you later." Pansy made a noise, and Valentine interrupted. "No, really, stay. I'll be fine." With that, she turned and put both hands out in front of her, feeling for the wall she was sure was close, then tracing it to the door.

The last thing she heard upon leaving The Three Broomsticks was Narcissa Malfoy's voice hissing, "Lucius, what did you do?"

She thought that Pansy would follow her anyway, but apparently she had been convincing enough to make her stay behind. Valentine tried to remember which direction they had been walking down the long main road that lead from the Hogwarts grounds to Hogsmeade, but eventually had to stop a passing stranger to make sure. "Am I going the right way for Hogwarts?" she asked, and wasn't sure for a moment if the person had even stopped.

"You're going the right way," an unfamiliar voice answered, and the footsteps began to fade away. Rubbing her forehead with her palm, Valentine went on.

If Draco valued their friendship so little that he would throw it away because his precious father didn't approve, then so be it. She had--They'd hardly had a real friendship, anyway. Most of all they did was bicker and hit each other. Maybe she had been the only one who had felt affection in the bickering, after all.

But even through this reasoning, Valentine couldn't help but remember the way he head leant his forehead against hers before the Quidditch game, the way he laughed at her jokes, and tried to keep her grades satisfactory in Potions, and... the way he had faltered when he thought she was upset about the Dementors on the train. Goodness. Had it all really been nothing?

She felt like she'd been walking forever before she came up to the slope leading to the front gate. She put both arms out in front of her, but the gate was open. She knew when she was entering the gates, because the rush of magic felt like she was being allowed in the wards.

The path to Hogwarts, like the path in Hogsmeade, wasn't perfectly straight; she kept walking off the edges, and having to scrape her shoe against the ground to feel where grass turned into concrete again. Walking on her own seemed to be pointless; why hadn't she brought Ginny or Luna with her?

Well, because Lucius Malfoy would have probably had a fit. Ginny was still scared of him, but Luna... Luna could have handled him. If she even noticed the awkwardness. Crazy bint.

"What are you doing out here?" a voice asked. Valentine paused, trying to place it. She had heard that voice before...

"Boy from Quidditch," she greeted him, surprised. The voice was that of the boy who had held her when she had ran from the Dementors.

The boy let out a breath that was somewhat like a laugh. "We have Astronomy and Herbology together, Valerie."

"It's Valentine," she pointed out, and even in her current mood, she managed to smile lightly at him.

"Right. Sorry. Your friends call you 'Val'," he replied, sounding slightly awkward. "It's Vaisey, anyway. Rain."

"Well, Rain Vaisey or... possibly Vaisey Rain," Valentine started, exhaustion finally overwhelming her. She wanted her Luna. "Do you happen to know where Ravenclaw tower is?"

*

In the weeks that followed, Valentine made a point of avoiding the Slytherins. Draco she just completely ignored, and with Pansy she would make a quick excuse to leave. It wasn't that she had any reason to not spend time with Pansy, it was just that--well, ever since her first year, where there was Pansy there was Draco.

She supposed that was the way it worked with best friends. It was rare that she found Luna and Ginny separately, unless in classes Ravenclaw had without Gryffindor, or late at night in the dorms. Pansy and Draco were best friends (though their way of displaying it was often more violent than Luna and Ginny); she couldn't take Pansy away from him, and at that moment, she couldn't stand to face him.

So over the next few weeks, Valentine spent more and more time with Cedric. They weren't best friends - he was a fifth year, and his friends often teased him for hanging out with a second year - but he was probably the closest to a best friend she had at that moment. Cho was excellent, too, and she loved her, but--well, unlike Cedric, Cho actually cared to some extent about the opinions of the other fourth-years.

"Focus on something else for a while, Cedric," she told him, running her fingers over the Braille in her Charms textbook. "How about the giant wars? They're easy."

"I don't remember," Cedric admitted, shifting on the Ravenclaw armchair so that she had a little more room.

Valentine sighed and took her hands away from the pages. "What do you remember?"

Cedric shrugged; she could feel it against her arm. "I remember that Binns is really, really boring."

"You have to know this, Cedric, your OWLs aren't far enough away to mess around," she scorned in true Ravenclaw fashion.

Cedric shrugged again, and Valentine sighed. He was such a bright student, but it was almost a shame that he was so popular; he probably spent more of History of Magic concentrating on his friends than on the actual work. "Let's go through the giant wars, then. When was the first world-wide giant war?"

"It's--somewhere in the middle ages?" Cedric suggested, at the same moment that another body moved closer to them.

"Valentine," the voice said, and Valentine pulled her book up to her chest.

"We're studying, Pansy," she said in a dismissive tone. A weight moved the cushions of the armchair; Pansy had sat herself down on the arm closest to Valentine. With the three of them, it was beginning to feel more than a little overcrowded.

"Then I'll wait," she said, in a manner that clearly stated that they were going to talk, regardless of what Valentine wanted.

Valentine threw an apologetic look in Cedric's direction. "How did you get in?"

"Luna Lovegood let me in," Pansy said, and some of the distain at having to spend time with Luna had faded from her voice. Valentine would have been glad, if she wasn't so uncomfortable.

"Can we make this quick, then?" she asked. "Cedric and I are trying to go over the giant wars."

Pansy scoffed. "Diggory, do you mind if I borrow your second-year tutor for a moment?" she asked in a slightly snappish way. Great. Valentine was sure she was doomed, now.

"Er," Cedric paused, as if waiting for Valentine to specify what he should do. "Sure. Just make sure I get her back in one piece; I need her."

Pansy made an acquiescing sound, and then pulled Valentine up by her wrist. Her book slid off her lap and landed on the floor with a dull thud. Valentine frowned as she was dragged across the Ravenclaw common room. "Explain yourself."

"Huh?" Valentine asked, raising her eyebrows. "Which aspect?"

Pansy tutted. "Explain why you've been avoiding Draco and I. What the Hell happened?"

Valentine tugged at a braid, wondering if she should try out lying, and then immediately dismissing it; she wasn't good enough, and Pansy would probably clip her around the ear for daring. "It's not you, it's Malfoy."

"Oh, it's Malfoy again, is it?" Pansy asked, and her voice sounded annoyed.

"Yes, it is," Valentine replied. "He and his father--"

Pansy interrupted with a frustrated noise. "Valentine Harper Baruti, do not tell me that he can look past you being a half-blood and you're not talking to him because of his father," she snapped, making Valentine feel slightly sheepish.

"It's not like that," she said. "I heard them talking, and Draco just--agreed to drop me. Just like that. So obviously this friendship doesn't mean much to him."

Pansy took in a deep breath, as if she were counting to herself, trying not to get too angry. "You're not talking to him because he didn't argue with his ridiculously scary father?"

Valentine frowned. "Look," she said, "they're right. I'm not the right sort to be with him, anyway--all we do is bicker. I have Ginny and Luna and he has you, so... no harm done."

Pansy's fingers closed around her wrist, keeping her in place. "And what about everyone else? The pair of you--you do realise that I like you, right? And not only that, but when you're not around I don't get to talk to Lovegood. Believe it or not, I quite like talking to her. But if you ever repeat that--"

"You will tear me by the thoracic inlet, I know," Valentine filled in for her. "I don't want to avoid you, Pansy, so--if I can see you when he's not around, then. Yeah." Feeling awkward, Valentine pulled her wrist away. "I've really got to make Cedric study, okay? See you."

As she walked away she heard a small noise that indicated Pansy's wish to call after her, but before she could choose whether or not to wait, the world tipped and Valentine caught the floor with her hands. It took a moment for her to shake off the disorientated feeling, and then Pansy's hands were pulling her back to a standing position. There was muffled laughter in the background, and Valentine's face burned.

"Ow," Valentine said, a fair few moments too late. "What did I trip over?" She was blushing, which she rarely did, and was for once incredibly glad that her skin was dark enough to mask this.

Then Pansy's voice sounded, and Valentine's embarrassment evaporated. "You," she said, her tone cold and hard. "Get out of my sight."

"Excuse me?" Adele replied, still stifling laughter.

There was a shuffle of movement and a crash, and then Pansy spoke again. "Get out of my sight."

Valentine wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but there were hurried footsteps, then Pansy was back at her elbow. "What--?"

"Never mind," Pansy said, leading her into a walk. "What will it take to convince you to talk to Draco again?"

She deposited her back in an armchair, and Cedric's voice greeted her again. "It would be nice to know he cares," Valentine admitted, and Pansy left without saying goodbye.

*

"Okay, homework, read the chapter on the use of personal items. I expect everyone to have read this by Monday, no excuses. That will be all. Valentine, would you stay behind for a moment?" Professor Lupin still sounded like chocolate, so Valentine beamed in his direction.

"We'll wait outside for you," Ginny said, nudging her elbow briefly. "Try to be quick, I'm hungry."

While the rest of the class filed out, footsteps blurring together into one loud blur, Valentine stayed seated at her desk. Lupin's footsteps must have been masked in the blur, because his voice came next from a few feet in front of her.

"I won't keep you long, Valentine," Lupin told her kindly. He was the only professor that she had met who dared call his students by their first names. "I just wanted to discuss the matter of your phobia."

"My phobia, Rra?" Valentine asked, surprised. "I don't have any phobias. Well, I don't like the moving staircases, but they always seem to point me in the right direction, so--y'know, Hogwarts must be sentient or--sorry, Rra. No phobias." She wondered for a moment why she was rambling, as she wasn't particularly tired or hyperactive, and then her mind wandered to the fact that she was blushing again.

"Your phobia of werewolves, Valentine," Lupin said gently, and Valentine opened her mouth to say something, changed her mind, and closed it again. "I've noticed that whenever they are mentioned your facial expression changes and you seem more... uptight." There was a pause, and he went on: "I know what happened to you, Valentine. I knew your father's sister, and I kept in contact with Finley afterwards--it was tragic. Do you--"

"Can we not talk about this, Rra?" Valentine asked, sitting back in her seat and winding her hands together. "It's not that--I really do appreciate that you're trying to help, because everyone else just avoids the subject of how I became blind, but I'm fine. I'm no more scared of werewolves than anyone else; I just don't think they should be allowed in human company. It's an unnecessary danger."

Lupin was quiet for a very long time, and Valentine hurriedly thought over everything she had just said for something offensive. Luckily, he spoke again before she could fully panic. "I'm sorry to hear your opinion, Valentine, but you do remind me of your aunt. I doubt there's any swaying you."

"I never met her," Valentine pointed out. "She died before I was born. I can't be anything like her; people say I'm like my mother."

"That too," Lupin replied, still sounding a little too hesitant. "But then again, your mother and aunt were quite alike in righteous indignation. If you ever need to talk..."

"I'll come straight to you, Rra," Valentine interrupted, and stood, smiling. Lupin didn't say anything else as he helped her to the door, and then Ginny and Luna held an arm each.

"What did he want?" Luna asked, in her beautifully vacant voice. Valentine smiled.

"Nothing."

Luna and Ginny quickly started a conversation that Valentine tuned out of; instead, she thought back to Professor Lupin's attempt to comfort her. What did he think she would say? That she was terrified of werewolves since the incident when she was five and now she had formed some kind of paranoid prejudice against them?

As if.

It was hardly a questionable opinion, was it? Werewolves were dangerous; hers hadn't even been in his wolf form at the time. If he had been, she would either be dead or a werewolf herself. If they were that dark in human form, then the wolf itself must have been...

"Staircase," Ginny said, gripping her arm tighter to get her attention. "Three, two, one, down."

Valentine pulled her arms tightly to her sides, subsequently dragging Luna and Ginny closer, partly for the help down the stairs and mostly for the closeness itself. They may have been best friends with each other, she may have been the third wheel, but she wouldn't trade them in for the world.

She didn't need Draco bloody Malfoy anymore, thank you very much.

"End of the staircase in three, two, one, flat," Ginny coached her, and there was only a moment's oddness as the floor was straight again. "Hey, guys," she called, her voice going up a few notes and her hand slipping from Valentine's arm.

"Hi, Ginny." That was Hermione's voice. Valentine took a few steps forward, taking Luna with her. Hearing Hermione still made her feel nervous and protective, even though the attack had been over a year ago.

She was about to greet Hermione and ask about anything to do with any class in order to just--hear her voice some more (know that she was okay), when another voice cut in. "Well if it isn't Hogwarts' Golden Trio and the second-year wannabe Golden Trio," Draco's voice drawled. She knew it well enough by now to know that the tone wasn't acrimonious - at least, not in relation to his usual tone. The chuckles behind him indicated that he had the idiot-twins with him; he was less likely to pick a fight without them, after all. Bloody wuss.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ginny replied dryly, while Luna added, "You haven't been around in a while. Were you avoiding Valentine, too? That's not very friendly behaviour."

"I take it back," Draco stated. "The three of you are far too mad to be the Golden Trio." The idiot-twins both chuckled again.

Ron let out a sharp, angry breath. "Don't talk to my sister like that, Malfoy!"

Draco scoffed loudly, and addressed Ginny. "Weaslette, can't you stand up for yourself?"

"To you? There's no need, you're all talk, Blondie," Ginny replied. Valentine stayed silent, and hoped that Draco would leave without talking to her. If he just needed the attention, she was sure that Ginny's brother and his friends could supply that.

"Get lost, Weaslette," Draco said lowly in a slightly bored voice, as if he were having trouble concentrating on something as mundane as arguing with Ginny.

Ron made another angry noise. "Don't call her that, Malfoy!" he shouted, and his voice was moving closer to Draco's.

"Just ignore him, Ron," Hermione called, her voice a little high-pitched, at the same time that Potter said, "C'mon, Ron, we'll be late to lunch." There was the faint sound of the idiot-twins cracking their knuckles; Valentine screwed up her nose at the noise.

"Ron, stop!" Ginny shouted, also moving. "Ron, it's a nickname, you idiot!"

"A nickname?" Ron asked, and his voice was still now. "Ginny, you can't be friends with Malfoy, and you certainly can't have a nickname! He's evil!"

"Hey, I resent that," Draco piped up, then paused. "No, wait, you said evil. Go on."

"Malfoy is not my friend, Ron, but even if he was--I can have any friends that I want to have! You have no claim over me!"

"That's it, Weaslette, decapitate him like that Hippogriff!"

Hermione made a distressed noise, and Potter yelled, "Shut up, Malfoy!" loud enough to make Valentine jump.

"Watch it, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you!" Draco responded, then Valentine finally had enough.

She shook her arm free of Luna, who was talking under the layer of chaos about what her father said about the Blibbering Humdinger season making humans frustrated due to the irritation of the mating pheromones, and walked toward Draco's voice. She held one hand out in front of her and eventually it pushed against Draco's ribs.

"Who let you out without a leash and collar?" she asked, trying to sound lighter than she felt. "Come on, let's go find your owner." She gripped his arm tightly, his thin arm warm beneath the layer of cloth, and pulled him away from the others in the general direction of the chatter that must have been the Great Hall.

Draco tried to pull away and Valentine gripped harder, until eventually giving up and letting him loose. Surprisingly, instead of pulling completely away, Draco changed the grip so that he was holding her forearm softly. "You're a nasty piece of work, Malfoy," she said gently, as they fell into pace.

"You're no better, Baruti," Draco replied, as the chatter from the Great Hall got continuously louder. "I'll walk you to the Ravenclaw table."

Valentine shook her head. "I want to sit with Pansy. Take me to Slytherin." Upon the aggravated sigh, she added, "I haven't been speaking to her in ages thanks to you."

"Thanks to me? I didn't do anything!" Draco complained. However, he did take her in the direction of Slytherin, rather than passing it for Ravenclaw. "Pansy isn't here yet. Just sit here. I'll leave a space between us for her."

Or because he just didn't want to sit with her. Who knew?

If she wanted to eat she would have to inform Draco that she needed help, and that would force him to move closer. It was a tempting thought, but at the same time she didn't want to force him to do anything. Goodness, she just wanted him to feel this friendship as much as she did.

Apparently their friendship hadn't meant much to Draco Malfoy, after all.

Instead of asking for help, Valentine sat back and listened to the voices. She was trying to single out Ginny's voice, as Luna didn't usually speak loudly enough to be heard above others, but had difficulty piecing apart all of the voices.

"If you're just going to sit there, can't you do it at your own table?" The boy on her left asked, his voice sounding as bratty as Draco's - however, this did not incite any feelings of warmth. "Parkinson isn't even here, and even Malfoy's dropped your polluted blood-traitorous arse."

Valentine opened her mouth to inform him that if Pansy heard him saying anything of the sort he would be lacking a windpipe in three seconds flat, but Draco beat her to it. "Who the Hell do you think you're talking to, Urquhart? Did anybody give you permission to speak to Valentine?" After a brief pause, he went on: "No, I didn't think so. So how about you keep your mouth shut before I start asking after the purity of your blood. Your mother's a Platt, isn't she? I happen to know a thing or two about you."

Urquhart, the boy who Valentine remembered saying that Astronomy was useless, huffed loudly and went back to talking with his friends. Valentine, knowing that she had to thank Draco but not wanting him to know that, said quietly, "Ke a leboga."

"You're welcome," Draco said, and Valentine's face brightened into a smile.

After a moment, Pansy sat down between them and asked, "What did I miss?"

*

Valentine could certainly have had a crush on Remus Lupin. He was polite and friendly, and so smart; he had given her chocolate, his classes were brilliant, and his voice was...

But he was a werewolf. A werewolf.

She may have been in shock when she found this out; the news had come from an excited and malicious Draco, and then had been made certain by Pansy and Rain. Lupin was a werewolf.

They had allowed a werewolf in the school, amongst numbers of innocent and unknowing students. What in the name of goodness had Dumbledore been thinking?

She had no idea where she was now; only that she had been walking for what could have been ten minutes or an hour, feeling oddly blank and righteous at the same time.

Valentine had... Valentine had sat with him after class and discussed werewolves. Was that night a full moon? She couldn't remember, it wasn't as if she would have seen the sky, but--but what if he'd changed while she was there? What if anyone was there?

Werewolves were evil; she knew this. She had personally experienced what they could do, even in their human forms. They were--physical extensions of evil intentions, that's what Lupin himself had said, and--

She could have had a crush on him.

It made her want to throw up.

So almost every other thirteen-year-old girl in the castle had probably had a crush on the man, that didn't matter. What mattered was that she should know better - she'd experienced them, and for it she was blind.

She could have come away from this ordeal with Lupin even worse for wear.

So that was that. She would find Dumbledore and have him get it contact with Aunt Lerato and arrange for her to be on the next plane to Botswana. He would probably be happy to do it - he'd been so excited to break out the modified telephone that Ginny's father had set up for him at Christmas. And then she could be transferred to the school in South Africa. Screw the violence and apartheid problems - it was being taken down slowly, anyway. She would rather have been there than in a school with a werewolf.

"Er--Are you all right?"

Valentine had almost walked into a wall, but the fact that she was walking with both arms out in front of her kept her from hurting herself. Instead, she turned and leaned back - underestimated the distance and felt a sickening lurch before her back connected with the wall. "Why wouldn't I be all right?" she asked, slightly snappish, and Potter scuffed his shoe rather loudly against the floor.

"You're... Where're your friends?" Potter asked awkwardly. He appeared to have been in a rush before he saw her; he was still slightly out of breath, and his voice told Valentine that there was somewhere he would rather be.

"Hogsmeade, common rooms, who knows?" she answered, shrugging. "Potter, just go wherever you're going."

He, however, stayed put. "But why would they leave you alone? You're..." He hesitated for a moment, then went on. "I'll walk you--er, where is Ravenclaw?"

"West tower," she answered, feeling exhausted, even though she had barely done anything yet that day. "The portraits will give me directions; I don't need your help."

Potter hesitated again, and then moved toward her. "No, I--I think I should. Can you just come with me first? I have to..."

Valentine didn't bother asking and Potter didn't bother elaborating. He held her upper arm and they began a rather uncomfortable stride. She couldn't quite find his pace, which only served to make walking with him more almost as disorienting as walking alone.

Luckily, they weren't going far. In fact, it wasn't until she heard Lupin's voice that she realised she was on the first floor. "I saw you two coming," he said, and didn't elaborate.

Valentine felt slightly sick; she hadn't even felt his presence, and he was watching them walk?

"I just saw Hagrid," Potter said, "and he said you'd resigned. It's not true, is it?" Valentine let out a relieved breath, and considered staying in Hogwarts if Dumbledore promised there were no more werewolves on the grounds.

And, astonishingly enough, she felt a faint pang at the loss.

"I'm afraid it is," Lupin admitted. There was a smooth sound, then rustling. Valentine felt too strange to even bother figuring out what he was doing.

"Why?" Potter asked, his tone sounding vaguely upset. If only Draco were here instead of her. "The Ministry of Magic don't think you were helping Sirius, do they?"

Lupin's footsteps passed her, and Valentine tensed. "Valentine, I have something I need to discuss with Harry. Would you mind waiting outside for a moment? I need to talk to you in a moment, too."

Valentine nodded, and when Lupin tried to rest his hand on her shoulder she flinched away. Lupin sighed gently, and she felt the way back to door from the wall, closing it a little too roughly behind her.

The resentment and fear and indignation at Lupin was also mixed in with a dull ache that had nothing to do with the lycanthropy. It definitely had more to do with his hoarse voice and the way that he called all students by their first names.

It wasn't long before the door opened again, and the person walking out had footsteps too heavy for Potter. "Valentine," he said, "I don't mind having this conversation in front of Harry, but if you'd rather--"

"He stays," Valentine said stiffly. Potter's footsteps trailed to the door, where he waited, and Valentine took a small step away from Lupin. He sighed.

"I am sorry that I never mentioned--"

"You let me sit there and talk about how werewolves should be sectioned off from human kind and you didn't feel the need to--"

"I tried," Lupin interrupted her, and Valentine's jaw snapped shut. "When I called you back after class I had hoped to discuss your phobia of werewolves and explain my own position," he explained. "But then you--"

"You should have told me!" she raised her voice, and she wasn't sure if she was trembling with rage or fear or something else altogether. "You should have--You know what happened last time I was with a werewolf, you shouldn't even be in a school--"

"And I'm leaving," he said, simply.

"Good," she replied, not feeling good at all. "I--you should have said something. You--I can't believe Dumbledore--"

"Can't believe I what, Miss Baruti?" the wizened old voice asked, and Valentine jumped so hard that she overbalanced and fell.

Hands reached down to help her up and she batted them away hastily, staying put on the floor. She realised that she was making a scene, but damn it, she--ugh.

"Your carriage is at the gates, Remus," Dumbledore said as Valentine tucked her face into her knees.

"Thank you, Headmaster." Lupin's footsteps trailed back into the room, and quickly out again. "Well - goodbye, Harry. It has been a real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we'll meet again some time." There was a soft sound as he placed several items on the ground, and then Lupin knelt close to Valentine. "The werewolf that attacked you is the same werewolf that attacked me. The only difference between you and I is that you were fortunate enough not to coincide with a full moon."

For some reason, Valentine was reminded of what she said to Draco, back in her first year. A muggle shot my father and I will never forgive that muggle for it, but you know, the last Dark Lord killed muggles and I'm not holding all wizards at blame.

She lifted her head from her knees and said, very quietly, "It's all right, I'll still marry you."

Lupin clasped her on the shoulder, and she only flinched a little, before he straightened up again. He said brief goodbyes to Dumbledore, and then addressed Valentine once more. "Best of luck, Valentine," he said, and left without actually saying goodbye. For some reason, that soothed her a little.

"Would you like me to walk you back to Ravenclaw, Miss Baruti?" Dumbledore asked, and Valentine shook her head as she stood and walked in the opposite direction to Lupin.

It had been an incredibly long few months, and all Valentine wanted to do now was sleep.

*

Before Ginny showed her true colours she was stuck between Pansy and Draco, and Ginny and Luna. Literally. The Slytherins were standing to her left, and the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor to her right. Valentine tipped her head back, as if addressing a God, and sighed.

"I just want to sit down. I don't care who's there," she complained, and Pansy gripped her wrist.

And then Ginny came up with the logical solution. "Aren't we all going to the same place, anyway? You and Malfoy will go looking for Harry, Ron and Hermione, and Luna and I will be heading there already. Let's just... all go together."

"Ronald will be angry," Luna pointed out, and Valentine wondered if she realised that this was a pro rather than a con.

And so they travelled the length of the Hogwarts express in search of Hermione and her friends. It took a good twenty minutes, and she couldn't figure out whose hands were on her hips because nobody was talking, but when they found the right compartment she was happy to sit down.

"Hey!" Ron said immediately, sounding angry. "He can't stay in here. Go away, Malfoy."

Draco completely ignored him, and when he spoke it was made obvious by his proximity that it had been him guiding her through the train. "What's that you've got there, Potter? Love letter from the Weaslette?"

"Oi!" Ginny exclaimed, and Ron growled.

"Don't call her that, Malfoy!" he shouted, and Ginny tutted.

"Not the nickname, Ron--I don't write love letters!"

Valentine leant back against the seat and into Hermione slightly. "Ron, just leave it, he's not worth it!" she was saying, sounding annoyed and worn out. Underneath the shouting between Potter, Ron and Draco, Pansy and Luna were having a quiet conversation about Umgubular Slashkilters.

"They don't exist," Pansy insisted, sounding more amused than annoyed. "Unless you want to get into some anti-empirical Platonic sense."

"I don't mind the Weaslette, Weasel, it's you I have a problem with--"

"You know who Plato was?" Hermione asked loudly and excitedly, silencing the boys. Ginny's laughter was the only sound in the compartment now.

Pansy scoffed. "Of course I know who Plato was," she said, sounding a little offended.

Valentine smiled to herself. The change in having Lupin leave was difficult, but at least not all change was bad.