As the four of us stepped out of the carriage, I heard a drawling voice, a voice I recognised immediately.

"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?"

My cousin, Draco Malfoy, elbowed his way past Hermione to block our way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful, and his eyes glinting maliciously. Two thickset boys stood behind him, looking more like bodyguards than anything else, both of them wearing matching scowls. I quickly went through my memory to try and remember when I'd seen them before, and what their names were.

It was a formal ball at Christmas, I thought to myself, trying to get my brain to work faster. Four years ago, or thereabouts. I'd snuck up to see what was going on, and saw the two of them with Malfoy, Zabini, Parkinson, and Nott.

I pushed away painful memories that had tried to surface, focusing instead on remembering the boys' names.

Crabbe and Goyle, that's it! Both of them sons of Death Eaters, and both pretty stupid, if Malfoy is to be believed.

"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" Malfoy said loudly, drawing me out of my thoughts. "Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too?"

"Malfoy..." I said, in a quiet voice that immediately got his attention.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Riddle," Malfoy sneered. "I don't know about you, but I personally don't think your mummy and daddy are going to be too happy with you if they find out you've been hanging around with Potter, a blood-traitor, and a filthy Mudblood."

"DON'T CALL HER THAT!" Ron roared, making many people nearby turn to look at him in astonishment.

"Leave it, Ron," Hermione said quietly.

"Is there a problem?" a mild voice asked. I quickly looked around, and saw that Professor Lupin had just got out of the next carriage.

Malfoy stared at him, no doubt taking in the patches on his frayed clothes, and the battered suitcase in his hand. With a hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, "Oh, no - er - Professor." He smirked at Crabbe and Goyle, then turned back to me. "Don't think I won't be telling Aunt Bella about your new friends," he hissed, then he swaggered up the steps into the castle, with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

I took a deep breath, trying not to let Malfoy's threat get to me. I knew he would keep his word, and then the punishment I'd surely receive for going directly against one of Father's orders... it just didn't bear thinking about.

"Bloody git," Ron muttered, as Hermione poked him and Harry in the back to get them to move. "I'll hex him one day, and wipe that smug smirk right off his face."

"I doubt Lucius Malfoy would let you get away with that," I commented. "Better him than Narcissa, though, because if she ever found out, she'd curse you into the middle of next week."

The four of us joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, and into the Entrance Hall, an enormous room lit with flaming torches, with a giant marble staircase leading to the upper floors.

I followed the crowd towards an open door at the right, but was stopped short by a voice calling, "Potter! Granger! Riddle! I want to see you three!"

I turned around, quickly identifying the source of the voice - a stern-looking witch in emerald green robes, with her hair in a tight bun, and square spectacles framing her sharp eyes.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione explained, as we fought our way over to the professor. "Transfiguration teacher, head of Gryffindor, and Deputy Headmistress."

I quickly put on my emotionless mask, hiding the anxious thoughts that had flooded my mind. Had I done something wrong already? I really didn't want to be thrown out of Hogwarts before I'd even been sorted; Mother and Father would hurt me badly, and Malfoy would never let me forget it.

"There's no need to look so worried - I just want a word in my office," Professor McGonagall said, which didn't help my feeling of dread. "Move along there, Weasley."

Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Harry, Hermione, and me away from the chattering crowd, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor. My face grew paler and paler, finally draining of colour completely as we stepped into her office.

Professor McGonagall motioned for the three of us to sit down, then settled herself behind her desk, and said, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were both taken ill on the train, Potter and Riddle."

Before either of us could reply, there was a soft knock on the door of the office, and another witch came bustling in. By the look of her clothes, I thought she must be the matron.

"I'm fine," Harry said, going very red in the face. "I don't need anything-"

"Oh, it's you, is it?" the matron said, ignoring him. I wondered if he did this sort of thing often.

"Him and Miss Riddle," Professor McGonagall said, indicating to me.

The matron's face betrayed her fear, but this was soon accompanied by a flicker of concern as she noticed how unnaturally pale I was. She looked as though she was about to say something, then seemed to think better of it, and instead turned back to Harry.

"I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

Definitely makes a habit of this, then.

"It was a Dementor, Poppy," Professor McGonagall said.

The two of them exchanged a dark look, and the matron tutted disapprovingly.

"Setting Dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing Harry's hair back and feeling his forehead. "They won't be the last ones who collapse."

She hesitated for a moment, then repeated the action with me, withdrawing her hand quickly as I gave a slight flinch. I resisted the urge to try and scratch the lingering burning feeling of the touch from my face.

"Yes, they're both all clammy. Terrible things, the Dementors are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate-"

"I'm not delicate!" Harry said crossly.

"Of course you're not," the matron said absentmindedly, now taking Harry's pulse.

"What do they need? Professor McGonagall asked crisply. "Bed rest? Should they perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"

"I'm fine!" Harry said, jumping to his feet.

"As am I," I added, my voice a little softer than I would've liked. I could not show any more weakness than I had already by allowing myself to collapse on the train.

"Well, they should have some chocolate, at the very least," the matron said, now trying to peer into Harry's eyes. I noticed she'd abandoned all pretence of wanting to know whether I was alright.

"I've already had some," Harry said. "Professor Lupin gave me some. He gave it to all of us, but Ivory drank some potions instead."

"Did he now?" the matron said approvingly, ignoring what Harry had said about me. "So we've finally got a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies."

"Are you sure you're alright, Potter?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

"Yes."

"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I talk to Miss Riddle. Miss Granger, if you could wait outside with him. After I have spoken to Miss Riddle, I need a quick word with you about your timetable, and then we can all go down to the feast together."