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THEY SAY THAT WHAT'S MEANT TO be will always find its way. To that, Albany Bronwen said, "suck a toe."

Truth be told, the girl didn't care for destiny or fate. For generations, her family had been obsessed with the notion, but as the years passed, she found herself less and less impressed. The idea that her future was ruled by things out of her control wasn't exactly an idea she was comfortable with. In fact, the only destiny she was concerned about at the moment was missing the train. The annual tradition of the only Bronwen girl being remarkably late to the platform had yet to reach its end.

Albany usually blamed her mother, who seemed to enjoy spending twelve years on her hair and make-up every time they went out in public. This time, though she wouldn't dare admit it aloud, it was probably her own. Waiting until the morning of the train's departure to pack her trunk wasn't exactly her brightest idea. In fact, such ideas were probably the reason she wasn't a Ravenclaw.

Not that she'd ever been expecting to be sorted as a Ravenclaw. No, her family had all been Slytherin as far back as the records went. She wasn't sure why they bothered putting on the hat anymore.

"Albany," her mother was calling, just as she had turned her back to her parents, prepared to fight her way through the crowd. "Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

What Albany had been going to do was board the train before it departed the station. She gazed wistfully at the red express engine, trying to assure herself that it was only whistling numerous times in succession for the fun of it, before whipping around to face her parents.

Mr and Mrs Bronwen were staring at her expectantly, and looked almost upset. Albany's relationship with her parents had never been the smoothest - she got along with them alright, but that was about as far as it went. Too many old beliefs, expectations, and family situations that were less than ideal had put a bit of a split between generations. Nevertheless, she bit her cheek and stepped forward into an awkward group hug, itching to go.

"Write to us plenty, won't you?" her mother insisted anxiously, as her daughter began to slowly step back to her trolley.

"Yes, dear, we love you," her father added, eyes shining with emotion behind round glasses.

"Bye!" Albany shouted to them, though was unsure if they heard her over another high-pitched whistle from the train. She turned her back to her family once again and began to battle her way through the swarm of other parents gathered, some crying, some waving, all of them in the way.

Her raven-dark hair had been hastily brushed through in her morning rush, but was already closer to resembling a bird's nest as she shoved her trolley forward. She curled her lip at a small child who had nearly been bowled over as he took his time to saunter out of her path. She wondered vaguely where Faith was in all this; naturally when she needed her most, the one person at Hogwarts she properly spoke to was nowhere to be seen.

The train whistled one last time just as Albany broke through the front lines of parents waving to their children. Her eyes widened a fraction as she swore she saw the wheels beginning to move, and hurriedly she attempted to lift her luggage from the trolley and onto the train, something apparently easier said than done. She struggled to manage the weight of her own belongings in her haste, and ever the graceful being, tripped over her own feet to send her trunk flying.

Being late for the train? Tolerable, considering it happened every year. Dropping her trunk on a busy platform? Pretty bad, to say the least. But watching in horror as said trunk broke open and out came all her clothes and belongings onto said platform as said train was pulling from the station? The absolute worst.

"Need a hand?"

Actually, Albany needed at least twelve hands to get her out of this one.

Grimacing, she glanced up to meet the identical and ever-grinning faces of the renowned Weasley twins, and had to swallow a groan. There was - what, how many students that attended this school? A couple hundred, at the very least - and whatever the large number was, the people to come to her aid had to be the infamous pranksters. As wary as she was of them, however, she didn't have much choice. Besides, six hands was far better than her two alone.

"Yes," she admitted with a wince.

She had thought it would have taken a miracle to get herself and her packed trunk on the train in time, but somehow that was exactly where she found herself within less than a minute. The brunette blinked in surprise as the doors to the carriage closed behind her. Her trunk was in hand and all her belongings closed safely inside, the pair of redheads beaming innocently on either side of her. She wasn't really sure how they worked so fast, but she supposed it was a twin thing.

"Fred Weasley," the one to her left introduced himself, looking all too happy as he offered his hand. Albany shook it gingerly, and George's immediately afterwards, as the other twin gave his own name.

"I know who you are," she said, raising an eyebrow at the mischievous duo. "Everyone does."

George shrugged, smiling at her. "Still polite," he pointed out, pocketing his hands. She frowned, unsure if he even was George - Merlin knows they would introduce themselves incorrectly just to mess with her. "Saying thank you is also quite polite," he mused, smiling at her.

Albany narrowed her eyes. She might have muttered a few words of appreciation prior to the smug remark, but now she was certainly not going to be doing such a thing. She remained quiet out of spite, blue eyes shifting from one identical face to the other.

"Or not," George said with a shrug and a smile. They were constantly smiling - it was unnerving. "After all our help...."

Albany glared at him. "And how do I know you didn't plant stink pellets or something in my trunk in the process?"

She'd never spoken a word to either of them before, though had a few classes with at least one if not both of the redheaded menaces. Just watching from a distance meant she knew enough about them that going out of their way to help a Slytherin they didn't even know was uncharacteristic of them.

Fred - was it Fred? She had already lost track - placed his hand across his heart, face falling in mock hurt at the accusation. "And what would give you that horrible impression?"

Albany rolled her eyes. She didn't trust them for a second. "Just a few things," she muttered.

"So what's your name?" George asked, still smiling, as he changed the subject. "You might know us, but we can't say the same, unfortunately."

Albany stared at them for a moment, and then smirked.

"Guess."

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

"Merlin, where were you?"

Albany sighed in relief as she sluggishly approached the entrance to the Great Hall, grateful to finally see a friendly face. Being so late to the train meant that finding her one and only friend in the packed compartments had been next to impossible, so when she'd stumbled across a rare empty compartment, she had given up searching, however damp and cold it had been. A little mouldy, too, which was probably why no-one else had been sitting in there. But she didn't mind the mould too much. Or being alone for hours.

Now, Faith Moran was staring at her with a look not unlike the one a mother would give a misbehaving child, hands on her hips. Her dark hair was neatly tied back, as opposed to Albany's disgracefully frizzy waves that she still hadn't gotten around to fixing. She'd kind of forgotten at that point.

"I know," Albany sighed. "Mum made us late for the train again-"

"The usual, then," Faith said, rolling her eyes in amusement. "Don't worry about it, Al," she added with a light-hearted laugh, stepping forward to hug her friend. "Just glad to see you're alright."

Albany laughed, returning the embrace. She didn't have many friends at Hogwarts, and naturally the one she did have was like a second mother at times. "Why wouldn't I be?"

A grim look washed over Faith's expression. "Remember what happened on the train last year?" she said darkly.

Albany remembered it all too well. The Dementors had caused quite a bit of panic when they had boarded the Hogwarts Express, though the girls' fifth year had only gotten more dramatic from there, with mass murderers breaking into the castle and the shock of their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's dark secret being released.

"Hopefully sixth year will be better," Albany said, though her expectations weren't too high. "I kind of doubt it, though." She laughed, and the two made their way towards the Slytherin table.

The hall offered a warmth in the sense of both temperature and light; as antisocial as Albany knew she could be sometimes, there was nothing more welcoming to start the school year with. The chatter and light-hearted laughter of the four tables and indeed the staff table made the atmosphere almost homely, and she smiled, glad to be in from the rain. Glad to be back.

Faith grinned, and had to raise her voice over the noise of the hall. "Yeah, we haven't had a normal year since Harry Potter showed up. Someone always nearly dies."

"Nobody's actually died yet, thank Merlin," Albany laughed. "But who knows? Maybe they'll spice things up this year."

If things were going to be spicing up, the events of the start of term feast were setting the scene perfectly. The dramatic entrance of their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher - as renowned and impressive Mad-Eye Moody was - was a little bit terrifying, and kind of made the man look like a mass murderer himself as he attacked the enchanted ceiling with his wand. The storm above seemed to calm afterwards, but it still gave Albany the shivers.

"He was kind of good-looking in his prime," Faith sighed wistfully, earning a very strange look from her friend. "Haven't you seen his pictures? Just saying, I would've gone for him."

Albany glanced back at their new professor, frowning as he took a long swig from his hip flask. His magic eye twitched and spun, and she shuddered as it met her gaze for a moment before moving on. "He's a long way from his prime now," she muttered.

Thunder rumbled ominously overhead as their headmaster stepped forward for another important announcement.

"And now," Faith said in her best old man voice, hands raised in a pretty accurate mockery of Dumbledore, "the second reason your school year will go rapidly downhill and wind up with Harry Potter or some other poor bugger in life-threatening danger-"

Albany snickered. Though admittedly, her ears pricked as the real Dumbledore made his real announcement.

"-it is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

A few jaws dropped around the hall as students took in the information with amazement. And then-

"You're JOKING!" one of the Weasley twins had exclaimed loudly, and the students erupted with laughter. Even Albany cracked a smile, as Faith giggled beside her.

Dumbledore kindly reassured the Weasley, and everyone else, for that matter, that he certainly wasn't joking. The details of the tournament as he explained further, however, did seem a bit dreamlike. Whoever was lucky enough to participate in the competition would get the chance to prove themselves against the odds, attempt things that normally students their age would never in a million years be able to. As mesmerising as it all sounded, however, generous prizes included, Albany found it a little difficult to move past the part where the previous death toll was brought up. Eternal glory sounded pleasant, but she wasn't a particularly talented witch to begin with, and didn't feel like meeting her end at a mere seventeen years old.

"You think you'll enter?" Faith asked her later, as the students were dismissed and they and the other Slytherins made their way to the dungeons.

Albany shrugged, unsure if she wanted to admit that the idea of the tournament had her a tad bit worried. "Maybe," she said, shrugging.

Faith was practically bouncing on the spot with excitement as they descended the stone steps. "I think I might," she said eagerly, pale blue eyes shining as she envisioned herself Triwizard Champion. "It sounds amazing, doesn't it?"

Albany couldn't help but smile as she glanced at her energetic friend. "Yeah, I guess it does," she admitted, because for the most part, it really did. She raised an eyebrow, then. "You're still sixteen, though."

Faith shrugged, apparently not bothered by that fact. "How're they going to know, realistically? Dumbledore said it wouldn't be him picking the champions."

"I guess you're right."

The girls headed through the common room to their dormitory, where the other Slytherin girls seemed to be, like Faith, buzzing with energy after the feast. Zoe Accrington and Viola Richmond were sitting criss-cross applesauce on one bed while Phylis Whitehead was fiddling with the green curtains, trying to close them around the three girls. Albany didn't think she'd ever spoken a word directly to Phylis in her life.

"You seem tired," Faith said to her then, and there was concern in her blue gaze. "Long summer?"

Albany smiled weakly, nodding. "Too long," she agreed. "I missed you, I guess."

Faith smiled, and nudged her. "If you're so tired, you should probably get to bed," she said, and made her way over to her own four-poster bed. Her pajamas were already folded neatly on the pillow and she had begun decorating the cork pin board on the wall.

Albany had never felt like she had anything to personalise the space with. She certainly hadn't brought anything from home.

She crouched at the end of her bed to open her trunk, only to suddenly be hit with the most vile stench she had ever had the displeasure of smelling in her life. A green smoke wafted from the trunk; the source being the dungbomb inside.

Zoe shrieked loudly. "Albany, is that-?!"

Faith's jaw dropped. "Is that from-?"

Albany was somewhere between wanting to throw up and seething with rage.

"Those motherf-"