"Are you sure you're ok, Ivory?" Ginny asked, looking just as worried as McGonagall. "Malfoy punched you really hard!"

"And I bet Snape won't even give him detention," I said resignedly.

Hermione looked a little confused at this. "How do you know?"

"Well, if I know Snape, he'll probably just be pleased that someone's finally punched me in the face," I explained, as I scourgified a few spots of my blood from the table.

"But he's never even met you before!"

"He's friends with the Malfoys, of course he has," Harry said suddenly. "But I'm sure Malfoy'll be punished - McGonagall's told Dumbledore now."

I gave a slight twitch at the word 'punished', thinking of the painful punishments I was so often given. Professor McGonagall wouldn't do that, would she? Malfoy might've been a git, but he didn't deserve to get hurt like that. Nobody did.

"How come he doesn't like you, anyway?" Ron asked. "Malfoy, I mean. You're You Know Who's daughter - surely he should be respecting you? My dad says Malfoy's father's right in You Know Who's inner circle!"

"Other than the fact I've just been sorted into completely the wrong house, proved that I'm a blood-traitor, and am currently openly socialising with everyone my father told me not to?" I said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well, yeah. I mean, he seems to really hate you, and that means he's hated you for more than today."

I shrugged. "I don't really know why, to be honest. I think he's always suspected that I wasn't - you know - like them; that I didn't hold the same beliefs. But either way, he's just never liked me, and I've never liked him either."

Which was a lie. When he was really young, before he knew better, Draco had often come to talk to me in the cells. We'd been quite close, actually. But then his parents had found out, and his visits had stopped. Whenever I saw him after that, he'd been cold and cruel, just like he was expected to be.

"And why does Snape hate you?" Ginny asked, pulling me from my memories.

"Because Malfoy does, I suppose," I said.

That, too, was a lie. Snape hated me because it was the accepted thing in the manor. Although there was something about just how badly he treated me that made me suspect he might've had a deeper reason for it...

"What electives are you all taking?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Ron and I are doing Divination and Care of Magical Creatures," Harry said.

"Me too!" I gave him a slight smile, glad I wouldn't be alone in my classes. "What about you, Hermione?"

Hermione seemed to flounder for a moment, then said, "Oh, you know... Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Study of Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies."

"All of them?" Ron said incredulously. "Bloody hell, Hermione."

"How did you manage that?" I asked, a slight frown on my face. "Professor McGonagall told me I was allowed to choose no more than three earlier."

"Oh, um, well... I don't know, really - I suppose Professor McGonagall would've let you take four or five if you'd chosen them last year like the rest of us did, but the timetabling of having you take that many classes couldn't be worked out overnight, so she wanted you to stick to the normal amount."

"Makes sense," I said, nodding. "What about you, Ginny? Which electives do you want to take next year?"

Ginny paused for a moment, then said, "I haven't really thought about it, to be honest. Um... definitely Care of Magical Creatures, that seems like fun, especially now Hagrid's teaching it... Arithmancy sounds pretty interesting, so probably that as well... and if I decide to take three, I guess maybe Muggle Studies? Dad would love that; I could tell him about electity-"

"Electricity," Hermione corrected.

"Yeah, that," Ginny said, nodding. "But on the other hand, Ancient Runes might be a bit more practical? I'm not really sure."

Our conversation continued, until eventually, after the others had eaten two whole courses - two - the food disappeared again, and Professor Dumbledore said it was time to go to bed.

Ginny and I joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase, while Harry, Ron, and Hermione hung back to talk to Professor Hagrid. They soon caught up with us though, and we all walked together along a seemingly endless amount of corridors, and up even more stairs, until we finally came to a stop in front of a painting of a fat lady in a pink dress.

"Password?" the painting lady asked.

"Coming through, coming through!" someone called from behind us. I turned, and saw that it was Percy Weasley. "The new password's 'Fortuna Major'!"

The painting suddenly swung forwards like a door, and everyone started to climb in through the hole in the wall concealed behind it. We split into two groups, with the boys going up one spiral staircase, and myself and the rest of the girls going up the other. Hermione and I said goodnight to Ginny as we reached the second-years' dorm, and continued to our own, which contained six four-poster beds with deep red covers, and velvet curtains of the same colour hanging around each of them.

As I took a step into the room, I felt a sudden wave of fear crash over me, just as it had done at the meal. I was in Gryffindor. Mother and Father were going to kill me - or torture me, at the very least...

As soon as the dorm door was closed, the other five girls got changed into what I vaguely recognised as pyjamas, and I quickly clicked my fingers to swap my clothes for some pyjamas of my own - black with white star patterns.

"Ivory, you can have this bed," Hermione said, indicating to one of the six four-poster beds, as she climbed into her own.

I went completely still at her words, almost in shock.

I get to sleep in a bed?

"Er - Ivory?"

"Sorry," I said, quickly snapping out of my trance-like state. Then, very hesitantly, I climbed onto the bed she'd allowed me to use, half expecting someone to start yelling at me for doing so.

When nobody did, I lay down, feeling as though I was sinking into a soft, fluffy cloud. It was the most comfortable thing I'd ever experienced, and for the first time in a very long time, I felt completely at ease, all my worries being wiped gently from my mind as I lay there, looking blankly up at the ceiling.

"This is so comfortable," I half mumbled, after a few moments of blissful silence.

"Really?" Hermione asked. "I always find the mattresses here far too firm - your normal one must feel like it's made of stone!"

You have no idea just how accurate that is, I thought drily, but out loud, I just gave a noncommittal, "Mm."

There was a lot of creaking and shuffling noises as the other five girls got onto their own beds too.

"Night, everyone!" one of them called, once everyone was settled.

A chorus of, "Goodnight!" came from the others in reply. Then the overhead light switched off, and everyone went silent.

My worries began to worm their way back into my head now, but before I could dwell on them for more than a few moments, the comfort of the bed overwhelmed me, and for the first time I could ever remember, I fell into a long, comfortable sleep.