By the time Friday afternoon began to draw to a close and classes ended for the week Eleanor was convinced that the evening tuition with Malfoy was going to be a complete disaster. Leaving Cynthia who was going for an early dinner in the Great Hall, she continued up to the library with her notes for transfiguration and potions from the past week.

Walking inside the silent library she makes a beeline for the same desk Malfoy had been at last time, ensuring to stay well away from the ever grouchy librarian Madam Pince. While waiting she looks around and only sees two other students nearby, by the looks of it doing research for an essay.

"Can we get started?" Malfoy drawls, dropping down in the seat opposite Eleanor who had been too preoccupied watching the two third years frown and stare in bewilderment at the parchment in front of them to see him walk in.

"Wha- uh, yeah. Yes."

"Potions or Transfiguration first?"

"Well, from the amount of work you brought with you Transfiguration first, as it seems you haven't finished the homework for it yet."

For a fraction of a second Malfoy looks almost bashful, "Are you saying you have finished the homework?"

"I've finished the work for every class," Eleanor says, "It's easy to get it all done if you do it as soon as it's assigned. Why put off until tomorrow what can be done today?"

"That's disgustingly practical."

"And yet, of the two of us I will be the one to enjoy my weekend to its fullest potential."

Apparently unable to fault this line of thinking any further Draco sighs and pushes his transfiguration notes towards Eleanor. For several hours they work in a stifling silence, Eleanor looking over Malfoy's notes and helping him add more details before moving on to his essay and making suggestions as he wrote.

As long as the topic was purely academic Malfoy seemed content to follow instruction without any snide comments. But with the noise of students heading off to bed and the knowledge that dinner was likely finished downstairs Eleanor found it harder and harder to concentrate.

"Can we finish here? Pick up with Potions on Sunday?" She asks, stretching in her chair and looking out for Madam Pince as she reaches into the bag beside her and withdraws a block of chocolate.

"I guess. And don't eat that in here, I'm fairly sure the librarian would have a fit and I'll deduct points from you if you do." Malfoy drawls, packing up his work.

"I'm a prefect too, Malfoy, you can't take points from me," she says, ripping open the packet and popping a piece into her mouth.

"Whatever." Mutters Draco, stalking off into the corridor.

Eleanor gathers up her own belongings, taking her time so that she wouldn't have to walk with him down to the lower floors.

As she'd suspected the Great Hall was closed when she passed, the thought of having missed dinner made her stomach rumble even louder so that in the empty hall it almost echoed. Walking down to the Hufflepuff common room, the portrait of food taunting her as she passed the idea suddenly hits her. The kitchens! Surely the elves wouldn't mind if she made the food herself.

Doubling back and reaching up on her toes to reach the pear she tickles it until it opens and climbs through the hole to find the kitchen, a mixture of delicious smells wafting through the air from the numerous meals that are cooked inside. Elves bustle about tidying up the last of the dinner mess, a few of them sitting in the kitchen talking while they wait to go off and clean the common rooms when everyone is asleep.

"Hi Dobby," she calls out to the only free house elf she'd ever met who had several knobbly hats on his head and a pair of bright odd socks pulled up over his legs.

"Miss Wicks. So good to see you!" The elf squeaks, jumping up and running over to greet her. "Winky will be so happy for a visit from you too."

Eleanor follows Dobby over to the continually gloomy Winky, who she had met the previous year during one of her many trips into the kitchens to visit the elves.

"Hi Winky, how are you?" She asks tentatively, greatly aware that any word phrased the wrong way could send her into an emotional ball of tears.

The elf manages a nod of the head before shuffling off into another room. Dobby watches her walk away before turning back to Eleanor.

"She's happier than normal at least," says Eleanor looking around the kitchens again and wondering what smelt so delicious.

"Dobby. Where are the other elves? I can see the group for Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin common rooms all waiting to head out, but where are the ones who clean Gryffindor tower?"

"Oh. Well, someone has started leaving these wonderful hats all over the common room under pieces of rubbish, just waiting for a house elf to pick them up and be free. But - well, the others still don't want that and they just refuse to clean the tower anymore. So Dobby does it by himself."

And takes and wears every single hat left out as well by the looks of it.

"But that's not fair on you is it?"

"Dobby doesn't mind Miss. Harry Potter is in the tower and it gives Dobby a chance to see him if he's lucky."

The elf's eyes brighten up like light bulbs, a smile pulling on his mouth as he mentions Harry's name. Another elf sidles up beside the two, tapping lightly on Eleanor's hand.

"Here you are Miss," says the elf, holding up a plate of delicious smelling food still steaming from the ovens. Taking the plate from the elf she thanks him, insisting that next time she misses dinner she'll make it herself so as not to trouble them.

"It's no trouble Miss." The elf smiles as she sits with the group waiting to clean the dorms and devours the food greedily, Ollie stalking into the kitchen to the delight of some of the elves who take turns petting the cat.

When the plate is licked clean, washed and put away Eleanor bids goodnight to the elves, scooping Ollie into her arms and returning to the Hufflepuff common room where Cynthia is sitting up with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot playing a game of exploding snap.

"How was it? Absolutely horrid no doubt."

"It was okay I guess. Doing the work is fine, but whenever he opens his mouth it's just sass and snide comments. I don't think he actually knows how to say something nice."

Finishing their game Cynthia follows Eleanor into the dorm, Ollie jumping down to curl up on the end of a bed while the two girls fill each other in on their evenings.

The next morning Eleanor relishes sleeping in late in bed, the dormitory deliciously warm as sunlight spills in through the low set windows from the early morning sun. When she finally pulls back the curtains around her bed the rest of the dorm is empty except for Ollie who is basking in the sun.

Out in the common room a few students are gathered around the tables finishing off homework and playing wizard's chess. Making her way to the Great Hall she finds Cynthia a half a dozen pancakes into breakfast and moving on to bacon and sausages.

"Morning," she chirps as Eleanor sits beside her, "Wanna come down to the Quidditch Pitch after breakfast? It's beautiful outside and even if you don't play it's still fun to fly around every now and then."

"Yeah why not, got nothing else to do," smiles Eleanor helping herself to her own breakfast before following Cynthia outside.

Blinking back dark spots as her eyes adjust to the brightness of the sun, they link arms and march down to the pitch, passing other students enjoying the first weekend of the year. One group in particular catches Eleanor's eye lounging by the lake and laughing with each other, her face warms and she averts her eyes once she realises that Reggie is the boy laughing the loudest.

"So, I was talking with Susan last night," says Cynthia, "and she said she'd love to help us write articles for a school newspaper, reckons she's got a load of ideas already. I think we should just go to Dumbledore and ask for permission to start working on it."

The school newspaper was an idea that Cynthia and Eleanor had been working on ever since third year when Eleanor found some of Cynthia's letters to home that were so detailed and well written she'd insisted she would make an excellent journalist.

"And what would we call it?" She asks, spotting a couple of Gryffindors flying around the pitch already, "Mind if we join?"

With a thumbs up from one of the pair they head into the changing rooms to grab their brooms.

"Well Hannah suggested, since so far it's just Hufflepuff's who'd be writing and posting it, that we could name it Hufflepost."

"Hmm, I like it."

Back out on the pitch they mount their brooms, racing each other twice around the pitch before turning to join the others on the field who turned out to be Harry and Ron Weasley - apparently Gryffindor's new keeper.

They take turns passing the Quaffle around before trying to shoot to give Ron some practice, Eleanor laughing and whooping as the wind tears through her hair as she races against Harry to catch the stray ball, knowing she'll never beat a firebolt.

By the time they all head back up to the castle to get lunch, Ron seems far more improved considering how he started, and Eleanor is coated in a layer of sweat well aware that tomorrow she would ache from spending so long flying around.

"Yeah, Hermione would be the one knitting all the hats," laughs Harry when Eleanor informs him about Dobby. "She's made this group called S.P.E.W. for elf freedom - whether they want it or not."

"Do you mind if I come and say hello to her, I wanna hear more about what she thinks," Cynthia says, a mischievous smile telling Eleanor that what she really wanted was to see if she could convince Hermione to let her write about S.P.E.W. in the not yet existent Hufflepost.

Following Harry and Ron over to the Gryffindor table they sit opposite from the bushy haired Hermione Granger who smiled and, after scolding the boys for not doing their homework, is beyond thrilled to tell Cynthia and Eleanor all about S.P.E.W. and it's aims.

Cynthia actually becomes quite interested, signing Hermione's list to join S.P.E.W. and adding her own thoughts to the issue. Eleanor though is only half listening as she watches Malfoy stalk into the Hall, surrounded by the goons Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy Parkinson simpering like a little puppy behind him.

He walks around as if he's too good for this place.

Suddenly he looks towards the exact spot where Harry and the rest of them are sitting, his eyes passing over Eleanor for a moment before they snap back to her, fixing her in his arrogant gaze. With a scoff he turns away and continues on to the Slytherin table just as the others begin to get up.

Harry and Ron head back out for Gryffindor team training and Hermione says something about homework, leaving Cynthia and Eleanor alone in the Entrance Hall.

"You know, she might be annoying in class, but she really is so unique in her ideas about elf rights," Cynthia says as she watches Hermione walk away.

"You really want to write about stuff for the school?" Eleanor asks, knowing her friend will only return to the common room and dream about the articles she could create.

"More than anything."

"Come on then."

Taking Cynthia's hand Eleanor leads the way to Dumbledore's office, the Gargoyle that stands outside it letting them through when Eleanor gives it the password.

"How-"

"Just guessed, he's always got some type of candy on him."

Inside Dumbledore's office is the whirring of numerous gadgets and gizmos, none of which Eleanor has seen before. The walls are lined with portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses and, as the centrepiece of the room a great red and golden bird - a phoenix is perched, observing them with one eye.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

The headmaster is seated behind his desk, half moon spectacles perched precariously on the bridge of his nose.

"Yes Miss Wicks, Miss Kayde. What can I do for you?"

"We would like to ask sir, that is, to request permission to start a, a magazine of sorts," Cynthia says, glancing sidelong at Eleanor for assistance in convincing him.

"With articles about clubs and Quidditch, pictures of the Halloween feast and different stories, t-to ensure everyone knows what's going on in the school."

Dumbledore holds up a hand, silencing the two of them. Cynthia clutches onto Eleanor's hand, squeezing it tight for luck.

"As it so happens, I have been waiting for you two to come and ask about this for quite some time. You promise the stories will be appropriate? And should others want they will be given the chance to sign up to it? And you will ensure it treats all houses equally?"

"Yessir." They say in unison.

"Very well. You have my permission, and you may use the empty classroom on the first floor should people from other houses join, that way you won't have to bother Madam Pince in the library."

"Th-thank you sir, really. This is wonderful," Cynthia smiles, turning to leave before he can change his mind, dragging Eleanor along behind her.

That night and all of Sunday they start working, creating notices and giving them to the elves to hang up on the notice boards in each of the house common rooms, asking for people who want to write or take pictures for a new school paper to come and see them before the end of Monday.

When that is done Cynthia gets a head start on writing small articles while Eleanor and Susan sketch out a design for the newspaper. The three of them work late into Sunday afternoon, Susan continuing to adjust the design while Eleanor develops photos of the Hufflepuff team.

"I'll have to get the other teams to agree to photos as well, that way it's not favouritism," she says, more to Susan than Cynthia who was not to be disturbed while writing.

"Well, I have a general layout that we can use as a guide and adjust for each issue depending on the stories," Susan says, stretching out in her spot on the floor.

"I have to go to the library now, do try and pry Cyn away from the writing for dinner, otherwise she'll be unbearable."

Eleanor picks up her potions notes and homework, setting the photos she's spent the day developing to the side, happy that she'd mastered the art of getting the pictures to move.

Being so ecstatic about actually acting on their newspaper, Eleanor barely notices how extra snipey Malfoy is until he snatches the bar of chocolate from her hand, growling at her to pay attention.

"Excuse me, I am, it's called multitasking. You know what, keep it, you sound like you could do with some chocolate in your life."

"You're missing the notes about moonstones," he snaps, pushing her book back towards her along with the textbook turned to the page she'd need.

"And you're missing manners but we can't all be perfect."

"Not like Potter you mean?"

"What?" She says, pausing her scribbling down of the notes she'd missed.

"I saw you and your weird blue haired friend with him yesterday, did he feel sorry for you having to work with me twice a week, or were you too busy batting your eyes at him to string two sentences together."

"Okay, woah. First of all, I barely know Harry. We were there so Cynthia could talk to Hermione, secondly I don't particularly care for whining about something as petty as being tutored, even if it is by you. And thirdly, batting my eyes? He isn't even my type!"

Slamming her potions book shut and earning a reprimand from Madam Pince, Eleanor shoves her things haphazardly into her bag before storming out of the library. Malfoy, for once in his life, at a complete loss for a comeback.