Slytherin Chronicles : The Desire of Darkness

CHAPTER NINE The Energy



"Neve!"

As she entered the Slytherin common-room at seven o'clock on Wednesday evening, Neve almost fell backwards when Roisin launched herself at her, enveloping her in a rib-cracking hug. "You don't know how glad I am to see you alive, mate! Come and sit down, I'm just doing our History of Magic homework."

"Oh, well, that's nice. First time I get out of the hospital wing and you want me to do your homework for you! It's - "

"Not that much?"

" - Absolutely ridiculous!"

"Oh, don't be silly!" Roisin said, with a little laugh. "I only need a little bit of help. You know how my memory is when it comes to historical facts ... and names ... and dates ..."

Roisin led her over to one of the spare mahogany tables in a corner where a foot-long roll of parchment lay, four inches of which were covered in an untidy black scrawl. "Now, I only need two feet more ..." Roisin raised her eyebrows at Neve hopefully.

Neve rolled her eyes in an exasperated manner. "I don't know why I put up with incompetent ignoramuses like you. It's just beyond me."

The two girls sat down on opposite ends of the table, and, picking up her quill, Roisin said sweetly, "Your heart's just bursting with altruism, isn't it?"

Neve muttered something incoherent under her breath in reply.

Roisin looked back down at her parchment. "So ... what was the year when that guy who first invented collapsible cauldrons was born? 1892?"

"1432, you twit," corrected Neve irritably.

"Well, I knew there was a two in there somewhere," mumbled Roisin, scribbling away. "Anyway ... I honestly thought you'd died when you collapsed in the Great Hall on Tuesday! And then when Professor Snape carried you to his office, and then when he checked your eyes," her eyes widened to the size of saucers, "bloody hell, Neve! They were blood-red!"

Neve squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, I'm better now, so there's no need to make such a fuss. Nobody knows why I fainted, did they?"

"I don't think anyone knows the truth, but the wildest rumours have been going around. Lavender Brown from Gryffindor swears that she saw Arlene Avery put poison in your goblet at breakfast on Tuesday! And Padma Patil from Ravenclaw said that you were probably taking illegal drugs that you bought from Beth Wilkes for fifty Galleons! Oooh, I have an idea! How did the guy who invented collapsible cauldrons die?"

"Got bitten by a basilisk in his attempts to test his venom antidote. When he drank the antidote it turned out he used too much mint for the flavouring, and mint contains a volatile oil that is extremely poisonous in excess amounts, so he died anyway. Who's Beth Wilkes?"

Writing frantically, Roisin nodded her head at a fifth year brunette staring moodily into the fire from one of the armchairs. She had a stony unreadable face and dark eyes.

"Her dad was a Death Eater and he was killed by an Auror along with my father. Beth's the oldest, but she's got two brothers - Sheldon's a third year and Louvin will be starting Hogwarts next year," Roisin informed Neve. "Patrin told me that Arlene's been after Sheldon ever since their first year! Why am I not surprised? He's one of the handsomest boys in Slytherin and he's a Chaser on the Quidditch team. But Arlene had better watch out; Darren Montague won't like her sticking her hand down other people's pants."

Neve snorted. "Seems like she's after the whole Quidditch team. Isn't Montague a Chaser as well?"

"Too right. And Arlene's dug her claws into him. Poor guy," said Roisin, shaking her head pityingly. "Apparently she tried to cheat on him with Marcus Flint, but Beth gave her such a hexing that the boils didn't subside for a month! Beth and Marcus have been together for almost two years, I've heard." She flicked through a large, age-spotted book ( At the Bottom of the Well: A History of Cauldrons) lazily. "Now where was the first exhibition of collapsible cauldrons held?"

"Lyons, France." Neve looked back over to the brooding Slytherin girl. "Beth probably knows heaps about the Dark Arts. I wouldn't be surprised if she did sell illegal drugs around Hogwarts. Nor would I be shocked to know that Arlene got her hands on it and decided to give me a sample."

"Well, if you don't watch out I might just do that," said a silky feminine voice.

Swivelling around, Neve came face to face with Arlene Avery herself, blonde ringlets and all.

Close-up, Neve could smell a disgustingly intoxicating scent emanating from the girl, and fought back the urge to drag her into the fire, but Roisin was nothing short of outspoken.

"What did you do, Arlene? Fall into a tub of rotting newts? Or has Darren Montague finally graded your worth by the perfume you wear?"

Arlene slowly turned her face to Roisin and her pouty pink lips curled into a sneer. "Well, well, well ... if it isn't the illegitimate brat of Evan Rosier. Such good blood gone to waste because of that trashy slut who brought you into this world," she said contemptuously.

Neve watched Roisin as the blood rushed into her face and her eyes glittered dangerously. "Take a look at yourself before you go dishing out compliments to other people, Avery," she hissed. "And you'll remember to keep a civil tongue in that worthless head of yours when speaking to me about my parents or you'll be remembering what it feels like to have boils all over your face!"

Now it was Arlene's turn to blush, her whole face glowing scarlet with anger.

But before she could retort, a small pale-faced boy appeared next to her looking very much like her, but with a much friendlier expression. "Not tearing someone's head off, I hope, Arlene?" he said amicably.

Arlene shot him a vicious look before spitting, "You haven't heard the last of this," to Roisin, turning on her heel and stalking away without a backwards glance.

The boy, whose dark blonde hair fell onto his forehead, stared at her retreating back with dislike and said, "It just had to be my bad luck to get that obnoxious tart as a cousin." Then, turning round to face Neve and Roisin, he said "I'm Theodore Nott, if you didn't know, but please call me Ted."

"Neve Coulden."

"Roisin MacKeve. Why should we call you Ted?"

Ted sighed despondently, looking very gloomy. "I hate my name. I mean, what kind of person in their right mind would call their only son Theodore? It's ridiculous! It's horrendous! Disgusting, even! And it just had to be my parents." He heaved another sigh and shrugged. "It's all I can do to stem the humiliation. Anyway ... you're the infamous love child of old Rosier and Ardette MacKeve! It's true that you're illegitimate, isn't it?" said Ted eagerly, rubbing his hands together.

"Well, I don't think that Queen of the Harpies over there would be tormenting me if I wasn't," replied Roisin testily.

"Way cool!" exclaimed Ted, grinning.

Roisin stared at him disbelievingly. "Are you saying that being illegitimate is cool?"

"Well, I'm known for my quirks but ... personally I think it's awesome! I mean, you're different from society, you're an original, you're - you're - " he furrowed his brow, trying to think of an appropriate way to describe it, " - you're eccentric! And that makes you more special than the rest of us legitimate kids."

"Well, erm, thanks, I suppose," said Roisin, looking quite overwhelmed. "I've never actually met anyone who thought it was cool. I've always thought that it should be something ikky."

At this, Ted pulled up a chair to the table the girls were sitting at, plonked himself down on it and said good-naturedly, "If there's one thing I'm going to teach you it's never be ashamed of who or what you are. It's what makes you original, different from the rest of the flock of sheep. And from what I know - "

"I suppose you're a fine example? What with your name and all?" interrupted Neve, raising one eyebrow.

"Well, no," admitted Ted. "I like to think of myself as a special case."

"Don't we all," Neve muttered.

"And anyway," continued Ted, "I'm not ashamed of myself, it's just the Theodore thing that gives me hell. But as I was saying, from what I know about you two, I'd say that you're two of the most original girls this school contains. You've got to have pride in yourself; that's how Slytherins are, you know. Sometimes you can't help but be different just because you are or because you want to be. That's like me; people think I'm weird and crazy but really, I'm just different from the rest of the sheep. I wouldn't want to be anyone else."

"Sound advice, Ted," drawled a familiar voice. "Pity that it's useless for that retard Weasley; he wouldn't know good advice from a bad joke."

Draco Malfoy had come over to their table and, pulling up another chair, sat next to Ted, his usual sneer firmly in place.

In close proximity especially, the patrician outline of his face was more than apparent and he looked nothing more, at that moment, than the arrogant son of a very rich man. Who, of course, he is, Neve reminded herself. But it was not difficult to see why Pansy Parkinson liked to sit next to him at meal times and in classes, and constantly prattle in his ear about one pointless thing or another.

The perfect bone structure, sleek silver-blonde hair, cool grey eyes and conceited smirk all unashamedly demanded attention, as did the aura of extreme self-confidence that perpetually hung around him. It also wasn't hard to notice the very well-cared for air of complete scorn and indifference, which he usually saved for Harry Potter and his friend, Ron Weasley.

But Neve had to grudgingly give Pansy the credit of good taste in boys. Draco was, if not anything else, beautiful in a way that only the most proud and charming cherubs are, though he had none of their pudginess. He possessed a slight, graceful frame that never seemed to stumble or make a wrong move as far as Neve had seen. Wait a minute ... am I complimenting the bastard?! He's supposed to be my enemy, not the Spunk of the Century!

Just then, Draco looked right at Neve and their eyes met, grey to grey, his stare intensifying as she held his gaze and suddenly, something shot between them like a spark of magic, invisible and potent. His sneer began to fade and something flickered in his eyes as he surveyed her, but when she blinked he had plastered his trademark smirk back onto his face, and said calmly, "I know I'm gorgeous, Neve. No need to stare a hole right through my lovely visage and prove the obvious."

The connection had been severed.

Neve decided to roll her eyes at him. "Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. You get enough of that as it is." She stood up. "Now, if you will all excuse me, I have a lot of work to do. I believe that I was away for quite some time?" She looked at Roisin for confirmation.

"Three days, oh genius of historical facts," supplied Roisin.

"Exactly," continued Neve. "Therefore I must leave your fascinating company and occupy myself with something more useful." Then without another word, she briskly strode across the common room to the girl's dormitory.

"Swot," said Roisin and Ted in unison, then turned to each other in surprise.

"A kindred spirit, if I may say so!" exclaimed Ted happily.

"Oh no, here we go again," moaned Draco covering his face with his hands. "Every bloody time someone says the same thing as him at the same time, he gets all fussy about bloody kindred spirits."

"Just because you haven't got any, doesn't mean that it's got to be the same for me," protested Ted.

Draco rolled his eyes in reply. "Brace yourself for a great big speech on everything ranging from spirituality to metaphysics," he added to Roisin. "You're gonna have one hell of a long night."

"Too right," said Ted. "We've got Astronomy at midnight again!"

"Yes!" Draco grinned. "My second favourite subject after Potions."

"But we don't get any sleep!" complained Roisin.

"Oh well." Draco shrugged. "We might get to do some practical work this time. Last lesson was downright boring."

"I thought it was interesting," said Ted. "I never knew that there were so many stars and galaxies and stuff out there in the universe."

"I did. That's why it was boring," explained Draco.

"Do you honestly like Astronomy?" inquired Roisin.

"Like I said before, it's my second favourite subject," answered Draco.

"You and Neve should get on well then," said Roisin, shuffling the parchment on her desk. "She loves every subject but History of Magic and Herbology."

"But she's good at Herbology. Better than anyone in our whole year except for Draco and that Hermione Granger," said Ted.

Roisin nodded. "She says it's not interesting enough. She gets too bored and she hates boredom."

"I can relate to that," muttered Draco. "But it's not like she had a very boring time these past couple of days, is it?"

"She almost died." Roisin gave him a stern look.

"Wasn't she possessed by a spirit?" asked Ted curiously.

"I am not at liberty to tell you," said Roisin firmly.

"Which means that she was," Draco told Ted, smirking. Before Roisin could interject, he cut across her with, "You really ought to learn how to conceal the true meaning of your words, MacKeve. What's your first name, anyway?"

"Roisin."

"How long have you known Neve?" asked Draco in a noncommittal tone, his eyes following the object of their conversation as she went out of the common room, a stack of parchment in her arms.

"I met her on the train ride to Hogwarts," replied Roisin guardedly. "Why?"

"Because I want to find out where she keeps her knickers." Draco shook his head. "Can't a person be curious anymore?"

"Curiosity killed the cat," remarked Roisin tartly.

"And curiosity was killed by knowledge," Draco lazily retorted, examining his perfectly manicured nails.

"And knowledge was killed by stupidity," pitched in Ted excitedly.

Draco sighed. "Trust you to state the obvious," he said to Ted. Standing up, he spoke to Roisin, "Do you have any idea where Neve's gone?"

"The library, most likely," Roisin answered. "She usually goes there for some peace and quiet."

"Thank you very much for that," said Draco and walked across the common room to the exit.

"I said peace and quiet! Which means that she wouldn't want to be disturbed!" Roisin called after him, distressed. "She'll get very pissed off!"

"If he can handle his father when he's angry, he can definitely handle Neve," said Ted bracingly. "And anyway, it's not like she's going to blast a hole right through his stomach."

Roisin gave him a sharp look. "You'd be surprised. When she's really peeved she can get downright dangerous. You didn't see what she did to Pansy Parkinson on Sunday." She shuddered. "No matter how much I dislike her, I feel a bit of sympathy for her."

"What did Neve do?"

"She ... erm ..." Roisin looked very shifty. "Well, let's just say that Neve believed that she was talking out of her arse too much. I'll leave the details to your imagination."

Ted thought for a moment. "Oh!" he finally exclaimed, looking half amused and half disturbed. "I see. Very ... clever." He grinned, shaking his head. "Well, if I'm thinking what you're thinking then dear old Draco's gonna have a really hard time if Neve decides to give him the same treatment."

"Or they might end up having a hot and steamy romance when they leave Hogwarts. You know, full of passion and erotic cavorts," said Roisin.

They both looked at each other solemnly. "Somehow I don't think so," said Ted.

"Yeah, I agree," said Roisin, shuffling her papers again. "That would just be too much of a cliché."

~ ~ ~

Draco did not know exactly why he had decided to find Neve. What had happened earlier in the common room between them was something he had never experienced before with anyone. It had felt rather ... nice ... and he wished that she hadn't blinked and broken the moment. The precise feeling during that moment was indescribable; Draco was sure that there was no word in the dictionary that could summarise it well. And he wanted to feel it all again.

He reached the library sooner than he expected and quietly strode in, turning his head every which way looking for Neve. But the library was quite large and it might take him a good portion of the ten minutes that were left before it closed for the night. He walked past rows upon rows of hundreds of books into the very back of the library, nearer to the shadowed Restricted Section. And turning his head to the right, he spotted Neve sitting in a corner table all by herself, surrounded by books and parchment.

But she was not writing or reading. Her forehead was resting atop a page of a thick yellowed book, and her hair was covering both sides of her face so that Draco could not see her expression. He glided over to her table, pulled out a chair and lowered himself onto it, trying his hardest not to make any noise. But his efforts didn't help.

"I'm afraid I didn't ask you to join me," said Neve, her voice muffled by the book. She sat up and peered at Draco disinterestedly. "What does a person have to do to get some peace and quiet around here? Even the library's not good enough anymore."

Draco looked around. As far as he could tell, nobody was making any kind of disturbance to the stillness of the library. Everyone seemed to float across the stone floor as running was prohibited, along with dirt, food and drink, and loud noises. He turned back to Neve, one silver eyebrow raised questioningly.

"With my buzzing head, it's louder than a crowd of angry geese," explained Neve curtly.

"What've you been taking? Anti-sanity pills?" Draco asked.

"For your information, Mr-I'm-Too-Witty-For-My-Socks, I have not been taking anything at all."

"Might be the side-effects of that near-death experience you had, then." Draco leaned forward, placing his palms on the table. "What actually happened to you?"

"None of your bloody business, so sod off." Neve began gathering her scrolls of parchment and books after checking the bronze clock in the form of an owl on the wall opposite her.

"Oh, but it is my business. I go to this school to learn so don't deprive me of my right to education."

Neve shot him a dark look. "Fuck off or I'll tell Madam Pince that you're disturbing the peace."

Draco's eyes glittered mockingly. "Oooh, can't we handle nasty, annoying Draco by ourselves? Is he too nosy for sweet, little Neve?"

"I said fuck off!"

But when Neve lifted her head to glare at Draco his amusement was suddenly switched off, to be replaced by a warm, exciting sensation that drove shivers up and down his spine. This was it, that same feeling that he had felt in the common room when this very same thing happened. What it was he did not know, but he was glad that Neve was making no move to stop it. He noticed her eyes were wide, but not with fear. They sparkled with wonder and excitement and her cheeks gained two pinkish spots.

Draco suddenly felt like touching her face ... it looked so soft and thin ... he raised his hand, noticing that she did the same ... both of them slowly reached for the other's arm, fingers outstretched, faces eager and alight with something so amazing and so beautiful that not even the greatest poet could describe.

The moment their index fingers touched, both Neve and Draco gasped as some sort of magical energy pulsed through their bones. They both drew away at the same time, still staring avidly at each other, huffing and puffing as though they'd both just run a mile non-stop.

"What did you do?" breathed Draco.

"Nothing!" Neve replied, completely bewildered. "What did you do?"

"Nothing at all."

"Well, that's great! Something totally unreal happened and we have no idea how! We could have just done Dark Magic and we don't even know!"

Draco shook his head. "No, it wasn't Dark Magic ..."

"How can you be so sure?" Neve cocked her head to the side sceptically. Neither of them were gasping for breath anymore.

"Did that feel like Dark Magic to you?"

Neve snorted. "Yes, I really know what Dark Magic feels like. You see, I practice it every day right under Dumbledore's nose - "

"Dark Magic always feels bad," interjected Draco. "And anyway, this school is littered with Anti-Dark Arts wards, so we'd be getting a visit from the whole Hogwarts staff right about now if that actually was Dark Magic. And as we are still here and not in Azkaban, I have full confidence in saying that it wasn't Dark Magic at all."

"All right then, Mr Confident, what was it then?"

Draco stared straight into her eyes. "What do you think?"

"I don't know!" Neve threw up her hands in frustration. "But it was ... weird ... not bad but really, really odd, like nothing that I've felt before ... as much as I hate to admit it, it was kind of - "

"Nice?" Draco suggested.

Neve lowered her eyes.

"I liked it, too." Draco paused, now staring at the table. He frowned for a moment and it seemed that he put his barriers back up again. A smirk played around his mouth and his eyes regained their mocking twinkle. "Do you know, I think our souls might've made a connection ..."

Neve slammed her hand down on the table so hard it shook. "Right, that's enough! I've had enough experience with souls to last me a lifetime, thank you very much."

"Fine then, I won't take a philosophical approach. Perhaps something more logical would suit you ... how about 'I think our inner evil chipmunks decided to come out and play'. Any better?"

"Oh, really." But Neve couldn't help smiling. Perhaps the cocky git isn't so bad after all, thought Neve.

"You really wouldn't like to consider the theory of soulmates, would you?" Draco grinned teasingly.

Scratch that; he's an idiot. "Sorry to disappoint you and your theories, but I don't believe that anyone in this school is likely to be my soulmate, least of all you," said Neve forcefully. "It's all just a bunch of rubbish anyway."

Draco gazed at her wonderingly. "You really don't like to open up to anyone, do you? I actually want to be your friend, but you don't seem to want any friends at all. Aren't allies a good thing in your mentality?"

"Friends and allies are two different things. In my opinion, allies are better. You don't feel obliged to make sacrifices for them."

"They're practically the same, Neve. A friend is just a euphemism for an ally."

"It's a matter of opinion, isn't it?" Neve shot back at Draco, snapping her book shut.

But before Draco could reply, the thin vulture-like librarian, Madam Pince, came bustling over looking irritable. "The library is closing now," she barked, her beady eyes narrowed at the two young Slytherins. "And first-years ought to be in their common rooms by eight o'clock." She sniffed, as though their presence was causing her grief.

"Make sure you put your books in their correct placements. And if I find that any damage has been inflicted upon them, the culprit will find themselves marched off to Mr Filch's office." She followed Neve around the library as she put her books back in their places, and nearly clawed her eyes out when she accidentally dropped a book while trying to fit it between two particularly fat ones.

Eventually Neve and Draco tip-toed out of the library, feeling Madam Pince's disconcerting glare on their backs. They hadn't spoken to each other since Madam Pince interrupted their previous conversation, but both were waiting for the other to speak first. Finally -

"We've got Astronomy tonight," Draco decided to say.

"That's nice," Neve mumbled, trying to keep a hold on all the parchment she was carrying.

"I thought you liked Astronomy."

"I do," Neve grunted, bending down to pick up a roll of parchment that had fallen from her arms.

"Oh." Draco paused. "It's only eight o'clock so we've got four hours to go."

"OK."

"What are you going to do?"

"Why is that any of your business?"

Draco sighed in frustration. "Why do you have to bite my head off everytime I ask a question?"

"Because all your questions seem to be of the utmost nosiness," Neve said as they reached the entrance of the Slytherin common room. "Curiosity killed the cat, anyway. Why don't you be useful instead of nosy and remind me of this week's password."

Suddenly, they heard a sniggering that seemed to come from the stone wall itself. Neve glared at it accusingly. "And what's so funny, may I ask?" she inquired of it. But the only reply she received from it was more sniggering.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten the password," Draco drawled. "Aren't you supposed to have a good memory?"

"Stupid - bloody - wall!" With every word, Neve kicked the stone with her foot, only succeeding in angering herself further and making the wall laugh even more. "All right, that's it! I'm going to Professor Snape!" And she stormed off back down the corridor.

"Dust and mildew," Draco muttered to the wall, causing it to slide open. "Hey, Neve!"

Neve turned and, seeing the open wall, glowered at the smirking Draco. He bowed and gestured for her to go through. She swept past him into the common room without sparing him a glance. "You look much better when you're angry, you know that?" he said.

Neve froze. Turning to face him, she said in a low voice tinged with spite, "And you look like a little boy who's just pissed his pants when you're excited," and stalked off to the girl's dormitory, leaving Draco feeling very humiliated and splenetic.

~ ~ ~

Neve used the hours before midnight to copy out all the notes Roisin had made from various lessons while Neve had been unconscious in the hospital wing. She also managed to do her own versions of the homework that had been set while she was absent, and felt extremely tired by the time she had finished at ten to twelve.

Potions ingredients, Transfiguration theories, historical dates and names were all whirling inside her head as she, Roisin and the rest of the Slytherin first-years trooped out of the common room on their way to the Astronomy tower.

The underground dungeons were quiet and empty, the only sound being the echoes of the footsteps of the Slytherin first-years. They were only ever used by Slytherins and Potions students, so were never really crowded. Nevertheless, the brackets on the walls always had flames burning in them, crackling merrily and occasionally spitting fiery sparks.

The Slytherins soon reached the ground floor of the castle and heard the sounds of another group approaching, which turned out to be the Hufflepuff first-years.

It had been established long ago at Hogwarts that every Wednesday night at midnight, all the first-years from each of the four houses made their way to the Astronomy tower. Otherwise there would have been a great clash with the time tables of students in higher years.

So, unperturbed with the addition to their group, the Slytherins led the way through long moonlit corridors, up thankfully stationary staircases, and finally into a vast circular room cluttered with telescopes, models of the solar system, and various other astronomy tools. Around forty writing desks stood in long straight rows, none of them with chairs.

It seemed that all the other first-years had already arrived for there were two other obvious groups in the room apart from the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. And at the very front of the room, in her glittery dark blue robes, stood the Astronomy teacher, Professor Clair Sinistra.

From a distance, Professor Sinistra appeared to be an older twin of Neve - both had dark hair, pale skin and slender frames. Close-to, however, there was a great difference between them. Sinistra's eyes were of the darkest blue, always to match her robes; she had a long nose that seemed to be a bit sharp at the end; she smiled much more than Neve did; and her voice was soft and kind, rarely ever raised in a shout.

Neve liked Professor Sinistra, but that was not something wondrous as there was hardly a single person in the school who didn't. Her aura simply effused charisma of the highest kind, and even the irritable Professor Snape couldn't help but be courteous towards her.

Presently she raised her wand in the air and all fell silent. She beamed around at them all, her eyes sparkling. "Good evening, first-years," she said fondly. "Welcome to your second Astronomy lesson. I hope that you have all brought your telescopes because we will be having a practical lesson tonight. Those of you who forgot to bring their telescopes will have to use the spare ones," she finished, gesturing towards the little group of plain school telescopes on her left.

Then she pointed her wand up towards the highly unremarkable ceiling of the room and uttered, "Perspicuus." To everyone's surprise the ceiling completely disappeared. All they could see instead was a copy of the sky outside the castle, just like in the Great Hall.

Tonight the sky was an inky black, free of clouds and dotted with thirty or so twinkling stars of different colours. A full moon was glowing above Sinistra's head, suspended in the skies by an invisible string.

Sinistra raised her wand again and swept it around the room, extinguishing every torch and candle, and then did a complicated little flick towards the sky. "Please choose a desk, take out your telescopes and writing materials, and light your wands. You all know the Light Charm, I presume?" There was a general murmur of assent. "Good. You may use your wands as light to write by, as you will be labelling all the stars and planets that you can see in the sky tonight."

Nearly everyone groaned in disappointment. Sinistra smiled slightly. "If you have done your homework, you will have an easier job of this exercise than those who neglected it. Perhaps this will inspire more of you to do your homework."

Neve stepped up to the lectern-like desk in front of her, took out her telescope, a roll of parchment, ink and a quill, dropping her bag at her feet. She arranged her things carefully on the desk and looked up through her telescope at the flickering star closest to her. Its red colour told her it was the planet Mars and she drew a tiny dot on her parchment, captioned with the planet's name.

There were few who even got as far as drawing their tenth star that night. It seemed that only fifteen out of the forty or so first-years had at least tried to learn the names and recognisable characteristics of the assigned stars and planets for homework. When the lesson had ended an hour and a half later, Professor Sinistra received only three rolls of parchment (one each from Neve, Draco and Hermione Granger) with complete star charts. Most of the others simply had a mass of unlabelled dots.

Half the class had to be woken so they could trudge off to their dormitories with the rest of their housemates. Even Neve nearly fell down three storeys when the staircase she was about to sleepily step on moved away; Roisin grabbed her robes just in time before she set her foot on thin air.

Mercifully, all the Slytherin first-years reached the common room unhurt, in time to see Vonda Wilkes and Marcus Flint fall onto the floor from the sofa beside the fireplace. Neve distinctly heard Marcus growl, "Bloody first-years," under his breath as he disentangled himself from Vonda. Judging by the smirk on Roisin's face as she ascended the staircase to the girl's dormitory, Neve wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Ugh, that was awful!" moaned Pansy Parkinson, kicking off her shoes and flopping down on her four-poster bed. "What's the time?"

Neve glanced at the bright green digits of the clock on her bedside table. "Twenty to two," she informed.

Pansy, Blaise Zabini and Roisin all groaned. Millicent Bulstrode had already fallen asleep in her bed, not bothering to change out of her uniform.

"But you know what?" said Roisin to Neve as she struggled with her shoe laces. "I wouldn't mind having a window now. That gorgeous view!"

Neve shuffled over to the grate in her nightgown and soon had a merry blaze crackling away after a few pokes with her wand. "My point all along. If you were close enough to it, you could just stare out at the sky all night." She slipped between the warm covers of her bed, closed the hangings around it, and tucked the quilt around herself as much as she could. "Good that Hogwarts has house-elves."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that," said Roisin from her own bed. "Lovely and warm, eh? Then there's the food ... and the common room's nice and clean in the mornings ..." She gave an injured sniff. "Lucky bastards, the Hufflepuffs. Patrin told me they're near the kitchens, so they can nip down and get a midnight snack from the house-elves any time they want to."

"You must have a stomach for a brain, Roisin," said Neve matter-of-factly.

"Ah, well, food is the kind of magic that I could learn about at any time of day," replied Roisin. "After all, it all comes down to food, doesn't it?"

Neve didn't trust herself to answer. Instead she turned her back to Roisin and stared at the darkness of the curtain facing her.

This was what she had been dreading: sleep. She was afraid that she would revisit the graveyard with the tombstones of the Riddles, and then become someone called Adeline and be killed again by the strange boy who seemed to be related to her. Neve didn't know exactly why, but she hated him. The boy meant something to her, but it was as though she couldn't remember what. And, curious as it was, she felt that she didn't want to find out.