Last updated @ January 21st, 2022

A/N -

I deleted so many scenes from this book, but there are even more that I never published at all. Here is just a fraction of them!

Yes this is my way of giving you guys content without actually updating LOL

This is an absolute BEAST of a chapter. 12,000+ words, and it will only get longer. Hell, Cyndee's backstory alone is long enough to be its own chapter. But hey, enjoy :)

[bold italics] = A/N or something I didn't finish

✶☆✶

PRE-HOGWARTS

I wrote about Tristan's murder ages ago, but kept it in the drafts once I decided the book would be 100% in Drew's POV. The events of that day also changed a lot, so remember that THIS IS NOT CANON TO THIS BOOK.

Also, here Morfinus has the middle name Ethan which is what Cyndee calls him, so don't be confused by that.

At four in the morning, Morfinus showed up at Cyndee's doorstep with Tristan's body.

She was in her nightgown, having been drawn to her window by his determined acorn-throwing. She was really tired, having gotten home very late due to a fancy dinner with her parents' colleagues.

Cyndee stared at him for a moment in wordless silence. Tristan was propped up in a red wagon on the porch, out of sight.

"Yes, Ethan?" she asked finally. She said it very coldly, supporting the fact that being woken up so early wasn't the only reason she was annoyed.

"I did something bad," he said, purposely being vague. "And...I think you can help me fix it."

She stared at him hard, "Alright, I'm coming down."

Poor, naīve, Cyndee.

He heard the locks clicking before she opened the door. Her eyes landed on Tristan, and his limp arms and blank eyes.

Hands flying to her mouth, she sucked in the breath to scream.

Morfinus lunged and wrapped one arm around her stomach, and pressed his other hand over her lips as tightly as he could, covering her nose as well. He laughed cruelly, "What did you expect to see, darling cousin?"

She kicked at him, but he knocked her down and pulled out a wand he'd stolen from his dad.

"Scream and I'll hex you into oblivion."

He removed his hand. He'd really underestimated her bravery and intelligence, because she screamed for help right away. Morfinus barely had time to shut up her again before the scream ended.

They waited in silence. Everyone must've been sound asleep, and the short burst of sound could've been mistaken for the screech of a Muggle car peeling away.

The scream had been loud, but nobody came. No lights turned on. No running footsteps from the house.

"Fine," he said, "I barely know any spells. But I still have this." He pulled out a Muggle claw hammer, "If you scream, not only will you get hit, you'll be drawing more people in to get brained same as you. So give it a rest, alright?"

Cyndee was still defiant.

So Morfinus leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Tristan's alive."

He paused, and let the horror sink in, "So shut your mouth."

He yanked her up, and she saw that Tristan was indeed still breathing. She sighed in pathetic relief.

"Come on," he said, grabbing her wrist. With his other hand he pulled Tris along.

"Where are we going?" she whispered.

Morfinus Ethan Labrinth turned around to smirk at her, "Your backyard."

As they walked, he heard her sniff, and he looked to see her crying. "Stop it Cyndee."

"How could you do this?" she croaked. "He told me everything you've done. I can't—"

"Did you tell anyone?"

It was a few seconds before she admitted, "Conrad."

He laughed, "Conrad Malowski? Why him? You know he wouldn't believe someone could do something like this."

Cyndee was meek, "He's my friend, and I thought he would believe a friend." She looked down, "And I knew my other friends wouldn't believe me either."

Morfinus started unlocking the gate leading to the backyard. "That's since I'm too handsome to torture someone, right? Ha! And there's my advantage. Why haven't you told your parents? Or mine?"

She shrugged.

Then Morfinus stopped dead, "Are you lying? You told them, didn't you? Yours, at least?"

He hit Tris in the chest with the hammer, and he moaned. "Tell the truth, Cyndee Piramyd."

She jumped and another tear slid down her cheek. One of her eyebrows moved, which was a habit both of them had when they lied. "I did, but they didn't believe me. Nobody believed me."

He snorted, "I bet you didn't even believe Tris, not completely anyway. And I know your parents, they would have trusted you. I bet the only one you told was Conrad, because he's your best friend. You're a liar, Cyndee, you didn't tell anyone but him."

"I meant to tell your parents in the morning," she said finally. "When they were both home."

"Advantages of Having Absentee Parents," he sneered.

"You'll get in Slytherin for sure," she said softly.

He laughed again, "Nope. I'm going to make the Hat sort me into Gryffindor. Then people will think I'll be a brave hero, right? At least until I cut someone's tongue off and let them bleed to death."

They were in the yard now, and Morfinus yawned.

Cyndee sank to the ground, "Is that what you're going to do?"

"What?"

"Cut his tongue off," she whispered.

"Too messy," he said. "That's for another time. You know how I got him unconscious? I had to crush sleeping pills and put them in his toothpaste. He's so paranoid nowadays I can't even open his bedroom door without tripping some kind of alarm."

"He's smart," she said.

"Not smart enough." He tapped the bare ground with his foot, then pointed, "Say, you have a pretty nice ditch there."

"That's..." she trailed off, obviously bewildered. When had a six-foot-deep hole appeared in her yard?

"You haven't see it yet? I dug it last night," he said. "Tristan and I both. Just before bedtime."

Cyndee shed more tears, "You got him to dig his own grave?"

"You're catching on. I used a spell to force him."

She froze, "What?"

"Just this one thing I learned to do. Pretty easy, you know? It's called the Confundus Charm."

Seeing that she didn't know it, he elaborated further, "It causes confusion, to put it in simplest terms. I actually learned of it a few months ago. When father was talking to one of his friends. Since that day, I stole his wand and practiced on our pet Niffler whenever I could. Last week I mastered it. I got the Niffler to help dig this, too."

"I don't believe you."

"You don't? And I thought you were the trusting one."

"I don't know who I can trust after this."

"And I don't think you can ever be brave again. Not when your cousin is buried just behind your house."

"He's your cousin, too."

"Yes, darling cousin, my Tristan."

"I won't help you."

"Your defiance gets you nowhere." Morfinus picked up the wagon handle and rolled Tristan into the garage.

"Come along," he said to Cyndee. "Unless you're just letting me kill him?"

She ran over, and he closed and locked the garage door. Then he turned around. "Don't do this," she pleaded. "Ethan—"

He shoved her onto the cold floor, and she shrieked when she landed. He picked up Tristan and threw him on top of her. Then he proceeded to strangle him, using his full weight to pin him on top of Cyndee. It's not like the two were large people, anyway.

"NO!" she gasped, and grabbed at his arms. "Please Ethan! Don't kill him! He's your family!"

"Too late for that," he huffed, squeezing as hard as he could. Tristan's mouth was open and trying to get breath. His arms were twitching.

"ETHAN PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU!!"

Cyndee was using all her strength to try to push them off her, but it simply wasn't enough. She clawed at the wagon and began beating him with the handle. "GET OFF HIM RIGHT NOW!"

He lifted one hand and struck her. And before she could scream, he jabbed at her throat, then slammed her head against the ground without a second thought.

Dazed and confused, she tried to scream but only managed a pained croak.

Moments later, through blurred vision, she saw that Ethan was peering down at her. He was massaging his sore hands, and the hammer he held had blood on both sides.

"Agh..." she groaned, clutching her head.

"It's done."

"No..."

"Yes."

"Liar," she breathed.

"No, I did it. I killed my brother and hopefully traumatized you for life. Now get up and help me bury him."

Cyndee didn't look at Tristan. She didn't want to believe it. Her older cousin, the one she'd looked up to, was a murderer at twelve years old. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was so afraid. How could someone be so terrified of their own family? Was this how Tristan felt everyday when he woke up?

She clutched at her face, "Tristan..."

"Hurry up, darling cousin," he drawled. His eyes were pale blue. The same eyes as hers, but seeing the world in such a different way.

She didn't move. She could barely breathe.

"Stand up!"

Head still throbbing, Cyndee got shakily to her knees. Then she raised herself to her feet.

He held out a shovel, but she couldn't take it. She couldn't bury her little cousin. Tristan was the bravest child she could ever imagine, and now he was dead. Suffocated and beaten by his own family.

Ethan was glaring at her and clenching his fists. But she was petrified.

He took out his wand, "Confundo."

Before she knew it, she'd shuddered and took the shovel. She had to bury Tristan for some reason. It was the right thing to do.

Morfinus dragged out Tris and threw him into the hole, and picked up another shovel. Cyndee looked down and wondered why she was holding one too.

"Confundo!" he snapped.

And Cyndee was moving, covering Tristan's lifeless body, which she dimly saw was already covered with little wounds from the sharp end of a hammer.

Why...why was she burying him?

"Confundo!"

Because it was right.

***

Morfinus carefully patted the chunks of dirt with dead grass into the top of the now-filled hole. The yard was already very bare, since nobody tended to it. The hole was completely unnoticeable.

"Are you going to tell anyone?" he asked dangerously.

Cyndee's head was clear now. She knew she'd witnessed a murder and hid the body. Her lip trembled and she shook her head, letting out a barely audible "no".

"Liar!" he snarled.

She jumped and started crying, which was what she did if she was truly scared.

"Darling cousin, your eyes are going to be so swollen if you don't stop crying like that."

You should be put to death, she thought. You should be disowned and shamed for what you've done.

Morfinus read her expression, "You're going to call the Ministry on me the minute you get home, aren't you?"

Yes I am, you...w-wicked.... But she said nothing and didn't finish her thought, for she was too terror-struck to be defiant even silently.

"I bet you'll tattle," he said, grinding his teeth together in an agitated manner.

"No..." she whispered, another tear tracing its way down her cheek.

Morfinus took her right hand, palm up. He lightly dragged the split end of the hammer across it. It was ice cold, and Tristan's blood left a brown-red mark.

Cyndee trembled herself to pieces with fright and horror.

"Do you want to meet the same fate?" he purred.

"No," she managed, her voice cracking, "...no." But when the Ministry t-takes you away, I'll be safe...

He growled and dropped her hand, "Confundo."

She shuddered, and her mind went blank. What was going on again?

"Confundo!"

What had happened?

Still Ethan didn't stop, "Confundo Confundo Confundo!!"

And slowly, Cyndee's mind broke.

✶☆✶

YEAR 1

Wrote this on December 20th, 2018 to add to the Diagon Alley chapter, then thought it was kind of unnecessary. This one is canon though.

Gringotts was bustling. Drew and Ari hesitated by the door, watching the goblins milling about.

They had really keen eyes and would probably sense the aura of trouble that Drew carried around. She decided to go up to the only human worker.

Ari followed behind her as Drew stood on her tiptoes to look up at the lady. Her nametag read Sophia Columbus.

"Morning," Drew said, "I want to convert some money."

"Sure thing," she waved her wand and a paper popped into view, showing the conversions for various European countries. "It's about 5 pounds to a Galleon. Drop what you want to convert into this box. Exchange rates are great right now; you've come at a good time."

Drew got a mass of crumpled twenties and fifties and dropped them in.

A tube fell from the ceiling, and gold, silver, and bronze poured into a large bin by the counter.

"That's a lot," Drew realized. "And really heavy."

"Are you new here?" Ms. Columbus asked. "No worries. You can purchase a coin purse for 2 galleons and 10 sickles that will hold it all."

"And that is..."

"12.76 pounds," she said promptly.

Drew blinked at this momentary display of inhuman skill. "Oh okay. Reasonable. I'll take one."

✶☆✶

YEAR 3

I wrote this in 2016 when Drew had a far more aggressive personality. Cyndee and Blaise aren't her friends here, because I didn't plan those friendship additions until later.

"Where are you going?" Wilby asked.

Drew stepped back into their compartment. "Looking for a fight. You stay here and just...guard our stuff or something. Don't let anyone in unless I'd find them cool."

The wide-eyed boy nodded, and she slid out and shut the door with a flourish.

The moving train was full of laughter and shouts, and Drew paused, feeling like something freaky was about to occur.

Shrugging, the Slytherin walked on, racking her brain and flashing back to the compartment she'd seen Malfoy go to.

Aha.

She remembered now; he should be near the front of the Hogwarts Express.

Continuing in the same direction, she brushed past the witch's cart full of candy.

Once she'd gotten to Malfoy's compartment (she could tell by his loud bragging), she gave a swift glance to the trolley witch, to make sure she wasn't looking her way.

She opened the door.

Crabbe and Goyle were pigging out on chocolate frogs, and Malfoy was guffawing and saying through a mouthful of Fizzing Whizzbees: "Now Zabini's changing into those cheap robes of his, well, cheap compared to—"

He broke off when he saw Drew, "Muggle-born!"

"Pureblood!" Drew mocked.

"How fine of you to recognize it," he said, smoothing down his robes importantly while hurriedly swallowing his sweets and wiping his mouth.

"Well I hope you recognize too that you're pure idiot."

"Apologize," he snapped, sneering, "this instant."

"I'm regretful that I called you pure idiot so bluntly," she said, "but your parents ought to have told you by now."

Malfoy sneered, "You must not see your parents a lot, if they let you go out looking like a house-less Squib."

Drew was about to sock him in the eye when the train screeched to a halt.

Malfoy and his goons looked confused, too.

"Why's it stopped? Doesn't look like we're there," Malfoy observed.

They gathered at the window, and Drew shoved Goyle away because his fat head was blocking her view.

"I saw something!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Something black!"

Drew looked down, and thought she saw something with a torn black cloak fly under the train. She thought back to what Malfoy had seen in first year: Voldemort in a black cloak drinking blood from a unicorn.

She was about to voice her thoughts and scare the others to death, when she noticed how cold the compartment had gotten. They backed away from the window, which now had three clear spaces from where their foreheads had been pressed against it. The rest was blurry with frost, and the three circles looked eerily like a skull. Then it disappeared as the room dropped another five degrees.

Fog appeared in front of Drew's face, and she realized it was her own breath.

They could hear other people shrieking, asking what was going on. A dark shape had floated to their compartment door.

Goyle whimpered, and Draco kicked him to shut him up.

Drew and Malfoy were the only ones with their wands out. Perhaps the others were too afraid to move, or they had left their wands in their trunks.

An ugly grey skeletal hand pulled open the door, but Drew couldn't think of any spells, and it seemed to be the same for Draco. Memories were being torn from her, with only the bad left untouched.

When she and Abigail had a fight...Eliza abandoning her...when Mom and Dad argued over the littlest things...always being shut out by Dawn...

Malfoy's chattering teeth was not helping Drew get scared properly, which she appreciated.

The door was wide open, and the thing was a quarter of the way inside. It was way freakier up close. Ten feet tall, the decayed creature was nothing to laugh at. Draco briefly snapped out of his fear and picked up a Chocolate Frog box and threw it at the thing, which made it stiffen and make a creepy sucking sound.

Drew shoved Crabbe, who was blocking her way out. Shrieking and shaking, Crabbe and Goyle climbed onto the chair and crawled around the thing before it's slimy scabbed hand could grab Goyle's neck.

Its hands were spread now, and Drew saw that it wasn't touching the floor.

She wanted to get out the way Crabbe had, but she did not want that disgusting thing touching her.

Being angry helped her get out of her misery, and she tried thinking of all the negative qualities of the hideous thing in front of her.

Malfoy was still letting out little squeaks of terror. She turned around briefly to scold him, but he was on his knees, and not looking at the thing but at something she couldn't see.

He wasn't panicking, he was afraid of something he was reliving.

The thing looked totally focused on Malfoy, and Drew managed to find enough strength to bat its arm away and bypass it. To her surprise, it spun around with alarming speed and grabbed the back of her cloak, and depression nearly flooded her completely, but she gripped the doorway and pulled herself forward with a snap, and burst outside.

"Don't leave me!" Draco pleaded. "Drew!"

Vaguely Drew realized the thing's hand had broken off and was still clutching her hood, before she slammed the door shut with Draco Malfoy still inside, and ran.

✶☆✶

YEAR 4

Behold! The first draft of the Yule Ball, written sometime in 2017.

It is much less Drew-centric, and originally this is when Xavier and Quentin start dating. Blaise was also going to be first introduced here with a more insufferable personality that I stole from The Mortal Instruments' Jace Wayland.

Cyndee's POV

Xavier sat down with a huff at their table, just across from them.

"Hello there Xavier," Drew wiggled her fingers at him.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the dancing students, not in the mood for her it seems.

[she asks why he came]

Drew picked herself up from the chair and stretched. Then she gave her dress a quick smooth and dangled a hand in front of Wilby's face, "Want to dance and make Xavier feel bad?"

"U-um, as er, friends?" Wilby stammered, patting his hair down.

"Best friends," she corrected.

His eyes widened. "I've been promoted?"

"You've been friend-zoned," Cyndee muttered into her cup.

Wilby merely rolled his eyes at her and took Drew's hand, blushing hotly and obviously.

As Drew stomped on his toes for his poor dancing skills, Cyndee popped a hand under her chin. "Hey, Xavier."

He turned his angry brown eyes on her, "Don't even think about it. I'm not asking a fourth year to dance."

Cyndee laughed and sipped her drink.

A beautiful brunette from Durmstrang glided over and politely asked Xavier to dance.

"Oh, sorry, I'll have to decline." At her crestfallen and embarrassed look, he relented. "Just one."

Cyndee returned to watching her friends. After one song, Drew and Wilby continued to dance, with Drew pointing out all of his mistakes while he stared at their entwined hands.

Xavier sank back into his chair and politely waved the girl off. He looked relieved to be sitting down again.

"Not great around girls, are you?" Cyndee chaffed.

"I could hex you to next month," he growled.

"Wow, defensive. Why didn't you take the Head Girl?"

He grit his teeth at her, as if she'd said something highly offensive, "I don't like her. She's very ditzy and imperious. Worse than Gracelyn."

"Just your type, then?"

He threw his goblet at her, and she shrieked and ducked.

When she came back up, feeling shaky, Xavier wasn't looking at her, but over her shoulder. When she'd calmed herself—the goblet had genuinely scared her—she noticed that Xavier's mouth was gradually falling open.

"Columbus," Cyndee turned and scanned the crowd, "what are you—" Then she too sat shell-shocked, and stared as a former Slytherin Head Boy nervously edged around the tables.

She could only whisper, "How is he here?"

Drew stopped as well. "Wait a minute..."

Quentin Stuart paused in front of Xavier, "H-hello."

Xavier looked him up and down, still quite open-mouthed, "I...Q-Quent..." Then he seemed to compose himself, "You pinhead, did you sneak in here?"

"I asked Professor Dumbledore," he explained shyly. "I asked if I could come and see you during the Ball. He told me yes. Officially, I'm er, taking a break from work."

Xavier went a deep shade of red, one that was visible even through his brown skin. "Oh, wow. That's amazing. Very nice of you." The last part came out a whisper.

"Do you want to...um," Quentin made a minute gesture at the dance floor.

"Yes!" he shot up and nearly crashed into him. "Yes, I'd love to dance with you."

Quentin scratched his neck, an identical blush warming his features.

Xavier held out his hand, and Quentin took it, letting himself be led towards the music.

"Frightfully average," a voice commented. Cyndee turned to see Blaise Zabini as he settled into the chair next to her. Running his eyes over the Great Hall, he, as always, looked fatally bored with life.

"Ah," she said hesitantly, "that chair is taken..."

He raised two perfect dark eyebrows, "By whom? I don't believe it's morally correct to lay claim on something that can't refuse."

She scoffed. As if his family didn't claim all the money they could. But she stayed quiet. She'd never liked to talk to anyone besides Drew or Wilby.

Blaise examined his nails, holding them up to the light. "I only came because of the decorations. The tree is adequately elegant, no?"

"I...guess."

He looked her in the eyes, "Care to dance with me, Cyndee Piramyd?"

She felt instantly self-conscious, "I don't know..."

"It ends at midnight," he informed her. "Do you plan on sitting here until then? If you are, I shan't ruin your isolation."

"You're judging me," she complained to the ground.

He leaned back idly. "And you prefer your evenings unjudged. Simply look at the things we have in common."

Something about the way he spoke to her—not angrily, and like she was completely, and had always been, normal—really comforted her. She relaxed just a slight. "Maybe."

"You needn't act as if I'm an uncivilized non-human. All I ask is one dance."

Cyndee thought.

"Yes, just one dance. And," he added, enunciating each word clearly and smoothly, "if you still stubbornly hold onto that untruth out of sheer pride, you may leave me."

"Sure, I'll dance with you."

Blaise quirked a smile, a tiny break in his swagger, "Do refrain from slapping me as I comment on your surely adept stumbling."

She giggled, "Is that a challenge?"

•••

Wilby's POV

Drew snorted at the musicians. "This song is unnaturally slow," she declared. "I swear to Merlin it's been ten minutes already."

"Um, actually..." he corrected nervously, "this is the third song."

"Oh. Didn't notice."

"Um, yeah." Say something more intelligent than that, he scolded himself. Wait that was mean. Sorry Wilby.

"You look at war," Drew observed, brown eyes boring into him. "Are you apologizing to yourself again?"

"I might be," he said mysteriously.

She let out a disgusted noise.

✶☆✶

YEAR 5

In 2016, I planned year five to be about Morfinus and Drew teaming up to break every Educational Decree. But Drew had better things to do, and it would be too long.

And this is Wilby's POV

"Wilby," Drew said brusquely, slapping a roll of parchment into his chest and shoving him away. "Go down to the decrees and write me a list of them all. Number them. Just summarize each, no need for word-for-word."

"Okay...why?"

She rubbed her hands together theatrically. "So I can make sure I break them all to a million pieces and give Umbridge a much-awaited heart attack of course. Now get to it. Thanks in advance."

***

To most people, copying down the school rules made by Umbridge would be incredibly dull.

Not to Wilby.

He patiently scribbled them down in his neat clear handwriting. He had one hell of a time imagining how Drew was going to break them.

"Hey, what're you up to?"

He turned, already going through the list of excuses he had. It was one of the Gryffindor boys in fifth year, Morfinus E. Gallagher [I changed his last name like a dozen times]. He didn't look much like a Gryffindor. With his pale skin and spiky jet black hair, he looked more like a male version of Eliza Skull. The similarities ended there though. Morfinus was more rugged, with a crooked mouth and a pair of calm pale blue eyes instead of a cloudy grey.

"Writing down the decrees," Wilby answered innocently. "There's so many, I don't think I can do anything without accidentally breaking one."

Morfinus looked at him in politely-held-back disbelief. "You want to abide by these? Alright, well do whatever you want, little guy, but I've got a goal set to break them all. I actually came here to write these down, same as you."

"Okay," Wilby decided to drop the act. "I'm actually doing the same. Drew Getaway asked me come here to write them all down for her."

"Drew Getaway?" he repeated, sounding interested. "She tried to join the Slytherin Quidditch team, didn't she? She made quite the revenge plot. I reckon she could've joined after that fiasco, but didn't want to anymore."

"That's true," he said eagerly. Then he figured that this guy was definitely someone Drew would deem "cool." By now, she must've gotten over her hatred of the male gender, especially after the Logan Incident. "Wilby Blue," he stuck out his hand.

"Morfinus E. Labrinth," he said, and seeing his questioning glance, "the E is for Ethan, but you can call me anything. I know Morfinus is a mouthful. Morfy, Ethan, whatever you want. Not Morg though, some weird people call me that."

"Okay."

"Alright Blue. Once you're done with that list you can make a copy and give it to me. Can you do that?"

He nodded.

✶☆✶

I wrote this in about 2018, and I don't completely remember it. I assume this is an alternative way that Morfinus and Drew meet.

Drew regarded the frolicking kittens decorated around her office. "Professor, I actually really like your cats. They're nice."

Professor Umbridge smiled condescendingly, "Thank you, dear, but you're still late. Now if you would sit down..." She gestured at the three desks arranged in a row, two occupied already.

The first was a shaking Ravenclaw and the second was Morfinus. [show what they were writing. they stopped once Drew came in cuz she distracted Umbridge]

He recognized her and gave her a rueful grimace, "Best to just get it over with, yeah?"

Drew didn't understand the Ravenclaw's terror. It was just writing lines.

"What did they do?" Drew asked, sitting herself down. There was a black quill and a lengthy bit of parchment laid out for her.

Umbridge turned disapprovingly, clucking at the Ravenclaw, who looked about twelve. "Well, little Lester here tried to sneak into the Restricted Section of the library."

"I just wanted to do a little research, ma'am, that's all," he mumbled meekly.

She tapped her wand on his head, and he gulped. "And this is the second time you've been called here! What were you researching?"

The boy cast a tiny glance at the quill, and she sneered.

"Anyway," she swooped back to the front. "Mister Labrinth decided he had the authority to question my teaching methods. And you, Miss Getaway," she narrowed her eyes at her, "think it is okay to be attacking other students? Especially that poor girl Eliza?"

She favors Slytherins, Drew remembered. She didn't trust that quill at all, and she wanted out. "I just didn't understand the way she was going at it, professor. She was making herself so unlikeable. The other Houses would target her if she kept that brash attitude of hers up. I suppose I was annoyed at her, but I was wrong to attack her, obviously."

She looked up, making her face as sorrowful as she could.

Umbridge had her thin eyebrows raised, seemingly impressed. "Why, Miss Getaway, I'm happy that you regret your actions. Perhaps you've even learned your lesson. And after all, you weren't...disobeying the rules, you were knocking some sense into a good girl with good views."

"Yes, professor," Drew nodded slowly, containing her boiling rage. "I didn't plan on really hurting her. I wanted to shake her up a bit, is all."

The pink toad smiled, coming all the way up to her desk. Drew didn't like how she was sitting down, because it made her smaller than her. "Miss Getaway," the professor said softly, "do you share her views on Muggle-borns?"

Drew went with a half-lie, "I mean, I'm alright with them usually, but she does talk some sense."

Umbridge grabbed her by the face, pulling her upwards. Drew stumbled to her feet, fighting to stay calm.

"I don't think that makes sense," Umbridge whispered, eyes glinting sweetly, "because you're a Mudblood." She threw her backwards, and Drew sat back in shock. She hadn't heard that insult in a while.

"Now get up, dear," Umbridge lips curled genially, "and write your lines. Lester, you will write 'I must mind my own business'. Mister Labrinth, write 'I must not back talk'. And you, Getaway, shall write 'I must not taint this school with my presence.' "

"And how should I accomplish that?" Drew demanded, standing up. "Leave the school? Gladly!"

"Sit down," Umbridge waved her wand, and Drew slammed painfully into the seat. Her left arm became strapped to the armrest. "And write."

"This is abuse," she spat. "I'm reporting you to the Ministry."

"Says the Slytherin who doesn't belong in Slytherin," she laughed. "You should respect your elders."

"Yeah, you're definitely elderly."

✶☆✶

When Drew and her friends save the D.A., Isabell was originally going to join them at the last minute. This was until I moved her apology to the next chapter.

before they could speak, a glass bottle broke open at the Chaser's feet. Dark purple liquid bubbled and steamed on the ice, and his eyes watered, "What is..." He collapsed and started snoring.

They all turned to see Isabella de Montmorency, her arm still in throwing position. At her feet lay an unconscious Goyle and a stirring Blaise.

The Squad covered their mouths, scrambling back as purple smoke billowed between them. Isabell threw a second potion, which sent white mist into the air like fog, hiding them from view.

Drew grinned. "Happy to see you here, de Montmorency."

She smiled back, golden hair gleaming. "Likewise."

✶☆✶

Wrote this in late Nov 2018. This is after Malfoy threatens Drew with detention in chapter 30. Before Cyndee stops him, Jack was going to step in. But I thought it made more sense for Cyndee to defend Drew first.

"Oh no you don't," Jack said, coming over. "I'm not letting you do that. I've been prefect for longer and I have more authority than you."

Malfoy balked, then quickly regained his composure. "Don't try to trick me. You're not Head Boy, so you're still on the same level as me."

"You haven't read the rulebook, have you?"

That made him hesitate. "It doesn't matter. Even if it's true, the Headmistress has supreme authority over all punishments. You haven't read the Educational Decrees, have you? Maybe I'll see if I can get another prefect in detention too...and you're about to do your N.E.W.T.S., right?"

Jack looked exasperated, "I'm not going to be bullied by a fifth year. Go back to torturing small animals, will you?"

✶☆✶

From January 2019. It's a brief segment where Jack asks the Slytherins where Montague is. It took up too many words so I cut it from chapter 30, but it's canon.

The next day after classes Jack made an announcement. "SLYTHERINS LISTEN UP!"

The common room quieted abruptly and the students turned to him curiously, though more were annoyed. Jack was somehow unpopular, and as far as Drew gathered, the reason stemmed from the fact that he was friends with a Gryffindor, though there was probably more than that.

So far none of the prefects had ever been universally liked among the general Slytherins, except maybe Quentin, but only because people didn't notice him much.

"What is it?" Malfoy asked.

"This is the second day Montague hasn't shown up to any of his classes and he's nowhere to be found. Does anyone know where he is? Be honest."

The Slytherins looked at each other, most unconcerned.

"Quidditch Pitch?" someone ventured.

Jack shook his head, "Adrian, Cady [Serena's old name], and I have checked multiple times. He's not in the prefect's bathroom or any of the bathrooms, or the locker room or the kitchens or the Astronomy Tower. As you can see, I was very thorough with my search. But Snape's starting to get snarky with me, so I need to find Graham soon."

Cady, his counterpart, checked her blue nails. "Maybe we didn't look hard enough. We should do the empty classrooms next. And did you look through every bathroom stall?"

"If you expected me to kick open every latched door, then no —"

"He probably skipped," Isabell put in. "And just went home."

"Unlikely," Drew said, and Isabell jumped at her response, "Umbridge didn't disband our Quidditch team, and it's his life and blood. Even though he has terrible players and no competitors, he'd never leave."

Jack raked his fingers through his hair, "If something happened to him, it'd be my fault and his sister will kill me. Whatever. If he shows up or someone knows something please tell me or Cady. Meeting adjourned."

Cady frowned, "How on earth would it be your fault? Hey, Jack, are you listening?!"

He ignored her and turned to the door.

"Wait," Drew said, remembering her conversation with Graham, "yesterday he said he wanted to find Fred and George."

The prefect stared at her, face turning a little grey, "I'll go ask them."

✶☆✶

Mostly canon. Wrote this in May 2019 for chapter 31, but it took up too much space.

And now they were reviewing DADA. Drew repeatedly flipped through the textbook Aurora had smuggled into Hogwarts, drilling the various jinxes and counterjinxes into her head.

"What's a hinkypunk?" Blaise quizzed. He was on the magical creatures section.

Drew responded, "A smokey thing with a lamp that shoots flame."

"I'm sure that will earn you full marks," he said sarcastically. "How do you prevent yourself from being persuaded by one?"

"You don't listen to it," Cyndee said, lying on her back. She weakly raised her fist into the air, "Be independent."

Blaise nodded, turning to Wilby. "And how do you defeat one?"

Wilby answered in the monotonous tone of a student in crisis, "Trap it in a corner. Cast Lumos Duo until it solidifies. Then attack it with a Knockback Jinx three to five times."

"Or," Cyndee said, "summon its lamp to you so it can't shoot flame. I did that for my third-year practical."

"That's an idea," Drew said appreciatively. "We'll get bonus points for creativity."

"Hey," she protested, sitting up. "I'm the only one who can do or say that. None of you better use that if we get tested on hinkypunks."

"Then you shouldn't have shared," Drew said, grinning.

The door flew open and Jack came in, "Got the predictions!" Everyone swarmed him as he distributed copies.

✶☆✶

Another reject from chapter 31. After Jack berates himself, Drew wonders to her friends what she should do.

Drew stared at her friends as if they had an answer. "Should I tell Jack that he doesn't have to lead anymore? I mean, I could do it. Take some pressure off him, you know?"

"He was in foster care," Cyndee said suddenly. "And might still be. His parents were killed in the Wizarding War."

Drew blinked, "How on earth do you know that?"

"Morfinus mentioned it at a family dinner once." She shrugged, "The other Cyndee just told me. She doesn't know much more than that. Obviously, it might not be related to this. At all. He might just be stressed about his N.E.W.T.s., and, you know, Umbitch."

✶☆✶

When Wilby got obsessed with finding his dad, he got Cyndee's parents to help and did a lot of research on his own. But originally, Drew was going to get Xavier to help.

Drew had sent Xavier a letter asking for a favour and that it was very important. He'd responded with literally just the word 'no'.

So she wrote Quentin instead, stressing that it was important and that it did not have anything to do with troublemaking, and she was actually trying to help someone. He must've convinced Xavier because the guy wrote back with "What do you want?"

Owls were being checked, and this was definitely illegal, so she asked if he could meet her at Hogsmeade some weekend.

He wrote back with a time that he was free.

* ° * ° *

She explained the situation to him.

Xaviar crossed his arms, "If I hear something I'll tell you. I'm not going to go looking. Why should I?"

She scowled, getting annoyed, "There are definitely known Death Eaters that the Ministry is covering up. We might even find out which one attacked Cyndee's cousin. I'm not doing this for myself!"

"Look Drew, this is risky business. Information like that is top secret. Locked up in high-security vaults and anyone who knows about it would be sworn to secrecy. I'm hardly of high enough status to be told anything. There might not even be anything. Maybe the Ministry did share the names of every Death Eater. They publish reports of every trial, you know."

"Not all of them. I read them all and there's definitely some that they don't want the public to know about. I know it. Maybe they let some Death Eaters go free if they gave up information. Maybe there were some right under their nose and they're too ashamed to admit it —"

"It doesn't matter," Xavier sighed. "I'm in a position where I could easily lose my job, Drew. It's not like this will save anyone's life. I don't exist to help you with whatever you want."

Drew shut up, but she was still mad. She wanted to help Wilby and right now Xavier was her only hope.

Xavier seemed to be fighting to stay calm, "I know things are bad at Hogwarts, but you and Wilby need to focus on learning spells instead of obsessing over this. This isn't necessary. Why does Wilby need to know who his father is? What does he plan on doing when he finds out? Go visit him in Azkaban and tell him off? Mind you, that's illegal."

"I don't know," Drew admitted.

"What if the man was cleared because he was under the Imperius?" Xavier pressed. "He'd just go find the person who Imperiused him, which would be virtually impossible unless there's a confession. And worst of all, what if his father's guilty and not in Azkaban? Would he abandon Hogwarts and go hunt him down by himself? Take you with him?"

"I don't know!"

"I think it's better not knowing. All Death Eaters are terrible. He can't afford to direct his hate at only one. Then it'll really become an obsession."

"But his mother's afraid. I don't think she'll ever fully relax until she knows he can't hurt anyone. Wilby won't either. He's getting so stressed."

That made Xavier hesitate, but he didn't budge. "I stand by what I said. The Ministry guards this kind of information harshly. I'd be breaking laws if I seek it out. Did you know that?"

"Well, yeah, I guess. But —"

"You don't know anything," he snapped. "As I said earlier, if I hear something I'll tell you. Nothing more. Think carefully the next time you want me to risk my hide for you."

Then he turned and Disapparated. Drew couldn't even bring herself to hate him.

Drew didn't get anything from him in weeks. She also didn't receive another letter from Xavier saying 'never mind, Quentin wants me to help you so now I'm going to', so the Xavier path was officially dead.

✶☆✶

YEAR 6

In canon, Blaise Zabini is a blood purist just like most of the Slytherins. I retconned him to be a good person, but I still had to account for his actions in sixth year.

This is how Drew was originally going to find out about what he said, while getting a birthday cake for Wilby on Halloween night.

Slytherins were lucky that the kitchens were so close to the dungeons, but Drew still had to go up from the dungeons to the Entrance Hall and then back down the basement stairs.

The stone corridor became brightly lit, and she could clearly see the food paintings lining the walls. It was past curfew, but she'd timed it so that she would only meet the senior prefects in her House, who were pretty slack and let everyone do what they wanted as long as no one got hurt.

Sure enough, she passed them just as she got to the painting of the bowl of fruit. Sebastian lowered his sunglasses. "Where are you going, bruv?"

"Kitchens." Drew smiled innocently, pointing at the painting.

He did finger guns. "Nice."

Ludovica [now replaced by Valeria] frowned. "Be quick. Filch is awake right now. I know we're never winning the House Cup, but constantly having low points is bad for morale."

"Got it." Drew went around them and shoved her hands in her pocket. No matter how much Sebastian cheered her up, every prefect made her think of Jack.

She rubbed the pear, which giggled and morphed into a doorknob, and she entered the kitchens.

The house-elves were asleep, but the chocolate cake she'd asked them to make was sitting on one of the tables.

She was in the midst of a debate on whether to scatter some flour and write a thank you message when the door swung open. Drew nearly dropped the cake when she raised her head and saw Draco Malfoy.

He looked like a scared ghost for a second but quickly composed himself. "You're out after dark," he noted, narrowing his eyes and letting the door fall closed.

"So are you. And you haven't got patrols."

His mouth tightened. She could tell he wanted to give her detention, but that would end with him getting one too. So instead he ignored her, going to a side table with a small meal waiting for him. Apparently he'd requested food too.

"You look tired," Drew noticed. "Where are you always going at night? Pansy hardly ever patrols with you."

"I just walk around," he said stiffly. "Sixth year is stressful."

"So you 'walk around' to the Room of Requirement?"

He shot her a dark look. "You followed me?"

"Pansy did. She was so worried that she asked me if I knew anything about it."

"Pansy talked to you?" he said with disgust.

"In case you haven't noticed, you are talking to me right now."

"I go there," he said haughtily, "to practice spells. My family has very high expectations."

"Ah, and we would never let you into the S.A."

"I don't need your sad D.A. rip-off."

"It'd only be sad because you joined."

"You know," he said finally, "you're really great at making friends with those you think are the wrong sort."

Uneasiness spread through her body. Something told her he wasn't referring to Eliza. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he paused dramatically, "Blaise Zabini."

She scoffed. "Oh, because he's pureblood? Don't make me laugh. He takes Muggle Studies and raves about how Muggles are superior in a dozen ways. Rather flattering."

"Is that so? Pretty great cover."

"Don't try it." She moved to go around him, but he blocked her. "Malfoy. Get out of my way."

"No. You want to see this. Trust me."

He set his food down and rummaged around the cupboards, and she stopped to watch. He found a wooden bowl and placed it on the table, then raised his wand to his temple.

At once she understood, and her apprehension increased tenfold. This meant he had proof. This...wasn't good.

Silvery clouds clung to his wand as he pulled the memory from his head, and he dropped it into the bowl. His smile was devilish as he said: "I'm just trying to warn you."

Drew didn't want to go in it, but she peered into the bowl. The scene it showed was unmistakably the Hogwarts carriage. On the cushions sat Malfoy, Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and...Blaise.

She made the mistake of looking up, because Malfoy's victorious smile did nothing to quell her fear. "Would you like to go in?"

"Into your gross memories? No thanks."

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking way too entertained. "My favourite part's at the end of the journey, so you can keep this. It looks like you have a terrible habit of making terrible friends."

Malfoy nudged the bowl towards her, then picked up his food and left.

* ° * ° *

Drew came out of the Pensieve with her heart racing, Blaise's words reverberating through her head. "I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like."

Sure, he'd been referring to Ginny, but by default, he had insulted her as well.

Drew ambushed Blaise in the morning after he finished his shower. He walked into the common room, calmly combing his slightly wet hair, which had grown out again.

"Your hair sucks," she blurted.

He looked taken aback. "What the hell? What kind of comment is that?"

"Heard you got invited to the Slug Club back in September," Drew said casually, though a bit of her scathing tone slipped out.

He stared at her uneasily. "Where did you hear that?"

"Oh," she said mockingly, "around. How was the first meeting?"

"Er, it was alright. I didn't go again. It's just Slughorn building connections with promising students. I'm not sure why the fact that my mother had been widowed seven times was something he was so interested in though."

"Right, so then you amble on down to Malfoy's compartment to spout ridiculous nonsense about blood traitors and Muggle-borns."

If Blaise could go pale, he probably would've. "I didn't mean any of it."

✶☆✶

The second half of chapter 34 was going to play out completely differently, but I rewrote it at the last minute because it was too dark for my comfort and felt gratuitous. Remember, this was removed so none of what happens here ever actually happened.

TW for self-harm.

She found him on a slope leading to the Shrieking Shack, where Malfoy had claimed to see Harry's floating head.

Kneeling in the snow was Wilby, staring intently at a huge piece of paper.

She marched over, "What are you doing?"

He jumped. "I'm..."

Drew grabbed the sheet. It was a map of the Highlands of Northern Scotland, the location of Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and other nearby towns. Red stained one corner, ringed by inked Latin inscriptions. One she recognized was sanguis — blood. The word had to appear multiple times before she realized it also meant bloodline.

"You're looking for your dad," she accused. "What did I tell you?"

"Give it back," he pleaded, holding out a bloody hand. "I didn't activate it yet."

"How many of these have you made?"

"This is the first one!"

"Yeah, the first of many, I'll bet." She dropped the map and took his hand, cleaning it up with magic. "I don't know why you insist on chasing a Death Eater by yourself like this."

"Drew," he said, "I'm not going to go after him. I just need to know if he's here."

"Bullshit. If the map lights up, you're really going to sit around waiting?"

He grit his teeth, "Drew, I need to know. The Ministry won't do anything. You-Know-Who is literally back and they're busy slandering Harry Potter. They're barely investigating the Death Eaters they know are Death Eaters."

She hardened her gaze. "I know that, but this is for your own safety. You can wait until you're better at magic."

"That's a really vague requirement, you know. At this point, you're never going to let me go."

"We'll go together when we graduate," she promised, the first time she'd set an actual time for it. "I swear. We'll pull in all the connections we have to go after him. By that time we'll be able to Apparate. Our Trace would be gone, too."

He looked at the map dejectedly. "That actually makes sense."

She stopped the bleeding and cut off the hem of her robes, using it as a bandage. "You've got it on your sleeve," she scolded, tugging it back.

Wilby suddenly stepped back, but Drew saw the six red lines on his inner forearm.

"Wilby," she breathed, voice nearly dying. "Those aren't for the map."

"Look, they're not even deep. They're basically scratches. I just wanted to see what it was like."

"You didn't have to! This can be such a slippery slope."

"It wasn't going to lead to anything! I only did it a few times!"

"My point is, you shouldn't be hurting yourself in anyway at all. Whether it's doing this or telling yourself you're ugly in the mirror, it's something. It may seem small, but nothing good comes from a habit of hurting yourself."

He took a rattled breath, and Drew wrapped her arms around him as he cried.

"Over the holidays," he said, "I heard my mum tell her boyfriend that she fell into a depression after it happened. That she wanted to get rid of me but her parents wouldn't let her have a doctor. And after seeing the Death Eater do magic... she thought I would be a demon."

Drew held her breath. "I'm so sorry. But you know she loves you, right? More than anything."

"I know. But imagine having that happen to you, and having to carry a living reminder inside of you. Inside of your house. In your life."

Her stomach crawled at the thought of it. "That's not your fault, Wilby."

"You're right. The person at fault could still be out there. If I'm so aware of this fact, I can only imagine how Mum feels. I have to give her peace. And even if I can't, I want to be trying."

"You're making progress just by training and learning magic."

"Yeah." He sniffed. "I'm also stressed about exams."

She almost laughed. It seemed like such a minor worry after his confession. "You'll do fine at them."

"Ignorance is bliss," he said. "If you never knew, you wouldn't be sad."

"Oh no, I'll be sad when I lose my friend. Because if you don't reach out, that's what will happen. I'll lose you, my best friend. Besides, I love feeling needed. It's actually very selfish of me to want this, if you think about it."

"I..."

"And you help me so much. If you start to hate yourself, how would you trust yourself enough to help me? I would absolutely be losing a lot even if I never found out."

"Wilby," Drew said, gripping his shoulders. "I want you to know that by cutting yourself, you are hurting an amazing human being. You are inflicting pain on someone who deserves love. You are torturing someone who has the right to live happily."

He didn't reply.

"Do you understand?" she cried.

"Y-yeah," he said.

She carefully folded up the map and put it in her robe pocket. She didn't want to let him do something that encourages him to slice his palm open, but she had to understand him too. "Next time we're at Hogsmeade, we'll use the map together, okay? But we are not going after him. Deal?"

"Okay. Deal."

Sage and Blaise were walking their way. Then something about the way she walked flicked a light on in her head.

"Cyndee?" Drew asked.

Cyndee nodded. Her hair was shorter and only half-curled; she'd apparently decided to leave the salon early. "Yeah. Is something wrong?"

"Don't tell them," Wilby muttered.

Cyndee glanced at the way he held his arm and blanched. "Wilby..."

She clasped Wilby's bandaged hand in hers. "You have no idea how often I've wanted to do the same thing. But every time I come close, a dozen voices in my head tell me not to. They're the only reason I never did it. And even if I did, they would still be there for me, and so would you guys. That's what friends do, Wilby. There's no shame in asking for help."

"Right," Blaise said. "And that well is endless, man. Sometimes you can have all the support in the world and still be depressed. Even so, you can still ask for more. We'll take on your burden so that you can take on ours too."

Wilby sniffled. "Wow. That's emotional, coming from you."

"Hey," he shrugged, "you're not the only one whose mother had issues. We're friends too. You can lean on me."

"No more of this," Drew ordered. "We're going to have a peaceful year, so there's plenty of time to focus on yourself. We'll train harder and study more. And I'll get you dessert every single day from now on."

✶☆✶

Yet another version of chapter 34. Wilby and Drew just have a talk this time, because Wilby is upset. I might use this conversation in a future chapter lol.

Drew took the cue and left, Wilby following suit.

They weren't sure where to go, so they walked down the street. The Three Broomsticks had an ominous atmosphere to it after knew Katie Bell nearly died after eating there in October.

And Malfoy was sitting there now, a bottle of mead beside him. On the first day of school, he could pass as simply thin and sleepy, but now he was clearly exhausted. His arrogance at the beginning of the year had vanished into deadness.

But that's what happens when you proclaim your allegiance to the Dark Lord. Your skin rots and your grades drop.

Next to him in a comedic contrast was their seventh-year prefect, Sebastian, laughing and wearing sunglasses despite being indoors and in winter. He was telling a story to a girl beside him with great dramatic flair. She couldn't decide if he was an upgrade or a downgrade from the previous prefects.

"Sebastian's dating a Hufflepuff?" Drew remarked. "Is this the year where everyone is dating?"

Wilby stared at her. "They've been together for two years."

"Okay, well, I didn't notice. Couples always come and go."

"Not all of them."

"Look at Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown," she scoffed, gesturing at the tea shop. "Ron managing to charm her is actual witchcraft. And they don't talk to each other at all! I'd bet my life that they wouldn't last."

Wilby shrugged. "You don't know that."

"Technically, no, but wouldn't you bet on that?"

"I wouldn't." The conviction in his voice surprised her. He shook his head. "I wouldn't, because you shouldn't be betting on relationships. You don't go into one actively wondering if it will last. You enjoy it for what it is, in the moment. If something's wrong, you work it out or end it. And that's it."

"Sounds so simple when you say it like that."

"It is simple, I guess. But it's not easy."

"I still don't understand why you like me."

Wilby smiled, "How couldn't I?"

"I mean, I'm annoying and have anger issues. I even have a very strong aversion to love because it's the only risk I can't take."

He rolled his eyes and stopped walking, paused under the arched entrance to the village. "Take out your wand for a second."

"What?" she asked. He repeated what he'd said, and she did, holding it up.

He tapped it. "Thestral hair core."

"Yeah."

"Do you know what it means?"

She nodded. "It means I can face death, whether it's of my own or someone else's."

"Right. Heartbreak happens. It's pretty much just as inevitable as death. Death doesn't stop you from enjoying life, so the threat of heartbreak shouldn't either. You're reckless with everything except love, but your wand core tells me you're unstoppable, Drew. You'll survive anything, just like everyone else who had their heartbroken."

[reaction]

"What's your wand core mean?" Drew asked. "It's unicorn tail hair."

He looked down. "Well, it's the hardest to corrupt."

"Sounds like you don't need to worry about turning Dark."

"Okay, well, wands aren't always..." Then he realized he was about to invalidate his own argument and laughed. "Wow, you did that on purpose."

She bowed. "Right. Now don't go on about how you might turn evil and that staying away from you is my best option."

He smiled softly. "I've never done that. Even in my lowest and darkest moments, I wanted you by my side to pull me out. Sometimes I'm just not brave enough to ask for it."

"Good, because that's where I'll be."

✶☆✶

Here is the first version of the Death Eater attacking the Slytherins in their common room :)

Dolohov came in using a second-year boy with spiked hair as a human shield. "I'm sorry!" the boy cried, tears streaking his face. "He used the Imperius Curse on me!"

"Slytherin isn't what it used to be," the Death Eater growled. "The Dark Lord will be very displeased with this news."

The man pointed his wand at Tracey Davis, the closest student. "You there, tell me now — who is the Mudblood that started that blasted Student Alliance?"

Drew cursed under her breath. Wilby edged forward, like he was slowly putting himself between her and the Dolohov.

Tracey was scared speechless. "I... I... I don't —"

"Out with it now," Dolohov growled. "You seem to know something."

"Leave her alone!" Duncan said suddenly, slick bright blue hair like a flame on his head. "She's saying she doesn't know, so stop pointing your wand at her!"

"Gladly." The Death Eater aimed his wand just a tad to the left, "Imperio."

Duncan went still. [describe more]

Tracey gasped, "Duncan?"

"This one's sure got funny hair," Dolohov cackled lowly. "Look at the blue!"

The Slytherins cowered as he commanded, "Rip it out."

Duncan reached up and grabbed a fistful of his hair, and Tracey screamed and tried to pry his fingers off, "Duncan no!"

Sebastian stood up. "You've got some nerve targeting students. Get out of here!"

Dolohov released the spell and looked him over. "A prefect! Why, I hated you lot the most. Where are the other ones?"

Drew willed herself to not reveal the prefects by looking for them. She prayed that Ludovica and the fifth-year prefects were safe.

Dolohov put his wand to the temple of the boy he held. "If you prefects don't come out, I will kill this boy."

"I'm the only one here," Sebastian said angrily. "Let him go."

"We'll see," he grinned. "Accio prefect's badge."

Sebastian's badge tugged him forward until it ripped free. And the same thing happened to Pansy Parkinson.

Drew's heart stopped for her. She'd forgotten about Pansy.

"I'm a Parkinson!" she shrieked. "P-pureblood."

He only scowled harder. "Then why were you hiding back there? Why have you failed to bring Slytherin back to its former glory? Now you've got Mudbloods hiding among you!"

"I'm sorry!" she wailed, hugging her arms. "Please please don't hurt me."

"Tell me, are there any Mudbloods in this room? Surely you know."

Drew tried to shrink into a smaller ball. Too many students kept glancing over. And across the room, she saw Araceli staring at her. Drew was bloody screwed.

"What are you going to do?" Pansy asked.

"Just answer the question!" he bellowed, pointing his wand at her.

"NO!" she screamed. "There aren't any!"

Dolohov spun to address the rest of them. "If anyone comes forward and points me to a Mudblood, I won't hurt you. Come on, Parkinson. Think. Just point to someone."

"None of them are Muggle-borns!" she shrieked.

Araceli wasn't looking at her anymore. Drew waited for someone to sell her out. The boy was trembling, and Dolohov wasn't leaving until someone came forward. She bet that he didn't really think a Muggle-born was here — he just wanted to make a point.

Drew was about to stand up when Sebastian stepped forward. The Gucci sunglasses hanging from his button-up looked out of place. "I'm Muggle-born."

Lie or not, it was admirable.

"Come up here," Dolohov said, beckoning with his chin.

The prefect did, and someone let out a sob. "I'll be fine," Sebastian said. "You know me."

"As a lesson for you all..." Dolohov announced, eyes wild as he grinned, "...of what happens when you steal magic for yourself...

Avada Kedavra!"

The captive boy grabbed the Death Eater's arm, and the Killing Curse blasted the fireplace apart instead.

The Slytherins took cover as flaming coals shot through the air.

Someone Summoned the kid away. Drew waved her wand, Stupefy!

The spell and half a dozen others flew at Dolohov. Some bounced off or got deflected, but her Stun slammed him in the face.

He stumbled, and Graham Montague ran and tackled him. [other students help]

Sebastian comforted the freaked-out kid, and Drew yanked Dolohov's wand away. She stepped on his hand. "Guess what, asshole? I'm a Muggle-born."

✶☆✶

I did not actually write a full scene for this, but I had many interesting ideas for Wilby's father. I considered making him dead but still showing up on the blood map as a ghost. So as revenge, Wilby hatches a basilisk to Petrify him the way Nearly Headless Nick was.

"I was prepared for this," Wilby said.

"I-I don't like this," Cyndee murmured. "That's very illegal."

"Tell the other Cyndee to come out then. Or Sage. They wouldn't mind."

She looked hurt. "I was just saying..."

✶☆✶

Chapters 37 and 38 have an insane amount of drafts. I rewrote them so many times. Here's one from 2018 about Drew and her sister being targeted after the Ministry fell.

On August 1st, Drew recieved two letters.

A snowy white owl — Cyndee's — was pecking incessantly at the kitchen window, and Drew unlatched and lifted it. "Hey Eve," she stroked her soft head as she opened the letter.

IMPORTANT.

Drew,

My parents tell me that You-Know-Who has just taken over the Ministry. Remember the Muggle-born Registration Committee? It was all a lie. They are being locked up in Azkaban, and if not, they lose their wand and job. Tell your sister. I don't know if they'll go after students, but you both need to be very careful.

My father disconnected our house from the Floo Network, so if you need to stay with me, I've enclosed a picture of my house that you can use to Apparate here. You know the address.

Stay safe,

Cyndee.

She called Dawnie [Aurora's original name] and told her the news, then called Wilby to tell him that she'd be putting on a Masking spell so owls won't find her.

Then she fed Eve and sent her off with a reply of thanks.

She held up the photograph, glad to have it. She couldn't really picture Cyndee's house well, even though she'd been there a few times. And with a long distance like that, she was very likely to get herself Splinched.

An hour later she got another letter. This one was from a barn owl that she didn't recognize. She froze when she saw it, because she'd literally just cast a spell that should've prevented it from finding her, but maybe the owl had already figured out where she was before she cast it.

She opened the window up and glanced at the letter warily. The owl took off immediately when she grabbed the envelope, and Drew blinked when she saw that it was from Hogwarts. Strange, because she'd already gotten the acceptance letter last month.

Dear Ms. Getaway,

Due to complications in the ancestry of certain students, we will require everyone to bring proof of their blood status.

Yours sincerely,
Alecto and Amycus Carrow
Deputy Headmasters

Drew stared at it wordlessly.

•••

It was morning, and Drew was boredly playing video games in her room.

"There's a...white glowing animal in the front yard," her mother said, appearing at the door. Her brows were furrowed. "Is it yours?"

Drew moved to the window, but before she could, a wispy white lion jumped seamlessly through the glass and landed in the middle of the room. Its mouth opened and Xavier's voice spoke, "Snatchers are taking Muggle-borns based on rumours. Get somewhere safe."

It dashed off, and Drew yanked out her wand. "Where's Dawn?!"

Her mom paled, "At her girlfriend's house."

"Call her!" Drew flung open a textbook and located the Masking spell that stopped the Ministry from using owls to find her. She was so glad that the Trace was broken. She cast the spell quickly and grabbed Jinx and a backpack full of supplies, racing down the stairs.

Wendy was saying into the telephone, "Yes, it was a lion —"

Drew grabbed the phone, "Dawn, cast a Masking spell now. And get me Sylvia!"

She heard the sound of the phone being passed over, and the rough voice of Sylvia Svee came on. "What's happened?"

"Answer me honestly, are you Muggle-born?"

"N-no. Pureblood."

"The Ministry's been taken over by Death Eaters. They're probably tracking Muggle-borns. Is Dawn done?"

"Yes."

"Okay, help Dawn get out of the house. If you feel like you or your family's in danger too, go with her."

Drew hung up and whirled to her mother, "Come on, we're going to dad's."

•••

Drew Flooed into Wilby's living room, nearly giving his mother a heart attack. He came running in, his pitbull barking behind him. "Drew? What —"

✶☆✶

And here is the first draft of possibly the most rewritten plotline in the entire book — when Drew seeks out Xavier after her sister is arrested. Or rather, when Xavier seeks out Drew, as is what happens in this version.

Cyndee sniffled, quickly wiping her eyes, "My parents came home and tried to Imperio me. The Crosswoods and Labrinths are also under the curse. The Ministry's been taken over by You-Know-Who."

Drew wrapped her in a hug, rubbing her back. She mustered as much sympathy as she could, but almost all she could think about was her twin sister suffering in Azkaban.

Cyndee pulled away, noticing the shine in Drew's eyes. "What — did something happen before I came?"

Drew turned away, eyes burning with tears, "Dawn got taken to Azkaban."

Her mouth dropped open, "Why?"

"She was arrested for being a Muggle-born. I'm guessing the only reason I didn't get attacked was because I'm a Slytherin, and Slytherins aren't supposed to be Muggle-born."

"We need to get her," Cyndee cried, standing up straight.

Drew glared at the ground miserably, "How? It's the best protected prison in the world. We're expelled seventh years."

"Sirius Black broke out on his own," Cyndee countered. "If we get enough people with us and a good plan, we could do it."

Bang!

The girls jumped, whipping out their wands. Drew realized the sound had come from the door. The bang came again, this time repeatedly.

"Drew, open up!"

Drew nearly had a stroke. It sounded like Xavier.

She silently motioned for Cyndee to follow her as she carefully looked through the peephole. The person certainly looked like Xavier, except for the clearly distraught expression that she'd never seen before.

"Drew?!" he knocked again. "If you don't answer in ten seconds I'll let myself in."

"I'm here," she said through the wood. "And so I know you're really Xavier — what did you tell me when I told you about my boggart?"

There was a pause, then he answered, "To not think about it too much, and that fears are irrational."

Drew opened the door, "Okay, why are you here?"

"I need your help," he said, coming inside quickly. Drew barely had time to back up. "I heard about your sister. Quentin's in Azkaban too, and I don't think he'll survive."

"How is that possible?" Drew asked. "Was it about the Muggle-born thing? Quentin's a half-blood!"

Xavier looked annoyed that she'd waste her breath asking questions. "His parents were both Muggle-born. Apparently that was enough to put him in prison."

"Were?" Drew asked in a small voice.

"Yes." His expression turned melancholy, "They resisted arrest, and the Ministry killed them."

"Do you know how many insecurities he has?" Xavier barked. "He's been made fun of his whole life for his height, for having Muggle-born parents, for being gay, for being a bookworm, a nerd, and a geek. He's so sensitive, Drew. He doesn't have the rationality that I have. He's ruled by emotions."

"Surely..." Drew hesitated, "he has happy memories that he wouldn't let go of? Like, um, ones with you?"

Xavier let out a bitter laugh, "I like your optimism, and your faith in love. Sounds a lot like him, actually. But he won't remember me in Azkaban, because those Dementors? They'll suck everything good out of his head. And if he does remember me, it'll be all those times I called him stupid, but with the joking tone removed. Everything will become twisted, and it'll destroy him. I know it."

"Alright," Drew said. "It's just...do you have a plan?"

"No."

"Xavier," she cried. Columbus, who always had a solution for every conflict, had wanted to rush into a high-security prison without one?

"That's why I'm here! We need to come up with something. And I'm — I'm not in the right headspace to think of one alone. You're the getaway girl descended from bandits. Think of something."

"Okay. Okay." Drew took a few breaths and thought. "Where's Caro?"

"She'll be here as soon as she gets my letter with your address. She's on the run from the Ministry. She is a half-blood, but they say there's probably a thousand Fernández families for her to lie and choose her allegiance to. They want to take her in for questioning, and we all know how that would end up."

Drew swore, "That's terrible. My friends are all at Hogwarts, but if anyone can get out, it's Wilby. He'll be here to help. I'll see if Cyndee and Blaise can find anything out about Azkaban's current condition. Cyndee's parents still work at the Ministry."

***

Drew spread out a map of Azkaban. "It's an unplottable island with a massive shield around it. No access is granted unless you're a higher-up visitor or you're bringing someone in. Xavier, aren't you in Law Enforcement? You could pretend to be taking a prisoner in."

He looked rueful. "I got sacked. I calmly pointed out that Quentin was a half-blood and they just kicked me out. But even if we do that, one more person would have to stay behind. Dementors may be blind, but they can do math."

"So we're doing that then? Two people will take their places?"

"It's the only plan I can think of that won't alert the Ministry or end with a hundred Dementors chasing us."

"Let me guess, you're taking Quentin's place."

He looked disgruntled, "Of course I am."

"And I'll take Dawn's."

"If you're sure you can handle it."

Drew snorted, "I don't have many traumatic memories. I'll be fine."

"They let visitors in too," Xavier said. "Family members. If we can find someone with a relative in Azkaban, we can disguise ourselves as them then use the Piramyd's power to get visiting access."

"Like who?"

"Malfoy. Crabbe. Skull."

"Wait — Eliza has a family member in Azkaban?"

"Her sister. When Louisa was expelled, she went on a rampage and hexed a whole bunch of Muggles. It only escalated from there. She has a five-year sentence, now serving her third."

Drew winced, "That family...is crazy."

He sighed, "Louisa is thankfully the worst of them. Using the Skulls would be the best option. The rest are convicted Death Eaters and would draw too much attention."

✶☆✶

Once again, another variation. This time Drew does find Xavier. I changed this scene because I didn't want them to actually be able to find Xavier on their own — he's too good of a wizard for that to be realistic.

"Found him," Drew whispered, spotting the former Head Boy in blue-trimmed robes.

She poked her head out of the alley, "Xavier."

He turned his head, saw her, but kept walking.

"Xavi —" she made a frustrated noise, then Apparated to the next alley. "Xavier!"

A hand grabbed the back of her robes, "Well well well, who's this?"

Her wand was yanked out of her hands by an invisible force, and a woman with dirty blonde hair and purple lipstick appeared, having been under a Disillusionment Charm.

"Why were you calling Columbus?" she asked.

Xavier was coming over, but she couldn't read his expression.

"I was, er, I just saw him walking by. I recognize him from the Ministry. I'm a Snatcher, you see. I wanted to know if there's any information he could give me."

She smiled, "You know, I'd believe you, but I know your face. You're one of the Mudbloods that Malfoy named. Isn't she, Xavier?"

"She is," he replied, arms crossed tightly.

"Why was she calling you?" she asked. "Do you know her?"

"She went to Hogwarts," he rolled his eyes, "so yes, I know her very vaguely. I don't know why she was calling me."

"She thinks she can trust you," she pressed. "Why is that?"

"I was a prefect," he said. "I guess she still thinks I'll help people."

"You have to admit it's very suspicious," she went on. "After all, you're father's a Muggle-born, and your mother a blood traitor. Your old friends were the same."

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, well, they're old friends. Remember? I'm done using them."

" 'Using them'," she murmured distastefully. "So you either loved a Mudblood or are a very good actor. Both are reasons not to trust you."

"We've been over this," he said, "over and over and over."

"I'm just making sure your story is consistent."

"I didn't get the most arrests by talking," he snapped.

"You have barely more arrests than me," she argued. "What you have is the most murders. Which I honestly find suspicious as well."

"Yeah? How about I murder you and add you to the list?"

"How about you murder Fernández?"

"I told you. I have no idea where she is. I already testified against my ex-boyfriend and got him thrown in Azkaban. What more proof do you need?"

"He was going there anyway. You just made it happen faster. And it's strange that you did most of the talking during the trial. Like you were spinning the story that would keep you out because you knew you were part of the heist too."

Yes, they literally just argue back and forth as if Drew isn't there lmfao. I am too obsessed with Xavier for my own good — I keep bringing him back to steal scenes.

I will post more old versions of Drew and Xavier at Carolina's house once I update chapter 38, since those drafts also connect to that chapter.

Wow, you made it to the end... hope you have a great day :P