It hadn't been Vega's choice to go to Hogwarts.  On the contrary, if someone had asked her opinion, she would have gladly chosen to remain at Beaubaxton's where trouble didn't skulk about the halls the way it did so blatantly at Hogwarts.  She'd heard the stories, some true and some only rumors, but it didn't take a particularly bright witch to realize it all boiled down to trouble.  

Her family avoided trouble like a plague.  Her father, Octavion Candlewood, had seen to it that they were kept as far from trouble as one could possibly be.  Perhaps it was his cowardice that protected them, though he would never admit he was afraid.  "I'm doing this for you and your mother," he would always say.  And so they lived quiet lives away from Hogwarts, away from Harry Potter, and away from the dark lord that once cast his dark mark upon her father's left arm.  They had taken up the name of Williamson, after her mother's side, and gone into hiding.  Now, it would seem, the dark lord was truly gone and it was safe to resume day to day activities without constantly watching over their shoulders for when he should inevitably come looking for his old executioner.

Vega kept all these thoughts in her head as she sat in an empty booth on the Hogwarts Express with her nose buried in a muggle book.  It was peaceful, being alone for once, and she relished in the feeling of being able to properly collect her thoughts and gather herself before she would be thrust into hordes of seventeen and eighteen year olds.  Some would be starting their seventh year with her, and others would be returning to finish a year they were robbed from.  It was the first time in history that two years would cross paths, and she was sure the hormonal imbalance of it all would result in a few broken hearts and scars, but that wasn't her aim.  She wanted to get in, take her exams, and graduate with scores high enough to guarantee her a career in any line of work she chose.

She turned the page, imagining herself as the adventurer in her book, and absentmindedly tapping a long ivory fingernail on the hardcover.  Her reading was interrupted by an abrupt opening of the door on her booth.  "Oh," said a boy.  His dark blonde brows knit together in a bemused fashion.  "I didn't realize anyone was sat in here," he muttered, scratching the back of his white blond head.

Vega managed a small smile and nodded to the bench seat in front of her.  "It's only me, you can sit if you like," she said and went back to her book.

The boy lingered in the doorway for a moment before sliding the door closed and settling onto the farthest seat from her.  She swayed her barefoot as she delved back into the pages.  Her fingernail seemed too loud to continue tapping now that the booth was being shared.  "Are you new here?" he queried in a low voice, as if he was afraid of her answer.

Vega quirked a single ebony brow at him.  He was staring at her with pale gray eyes.  "Is it that obvious?"

She noticed a small twitch in the corner of his lips as he suppressed a smile.  "I didn't mean for that to sound rude, I just haven't seen you before."

She let herself smile at him.  He was dressed head to toe in black.  Glossy black shoes, a sharp suit, and a satin tie around his pale neck.  It looked rather expensive in comparison to her green sweater dress she had bought in a muggle shop back in southern France.  Her taupe heeled boots, that she had kicked off, had barely cost her anything.  "I didn't think it sounded rude," she assured him.  "I went to Beaubaxton's all my life, but my father is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year so here I am."  She tried not to sound too bitter about the transfer, but his smirk told her she had.

"So you must be going into your...seventh year?" he guessed.

Vega giggled at his small talk.  The boy was clearly lonely, and yet he was looking for an empty space to sit.  "Good guess.  And you as well?"

"Sort of," he said quietly.  "My seventh year should have been last year."  The way he said it made her scramble to remember what all she had heard about Hogwarts in the Daily Prophet.  She knew about the war, and she knew about Harry Potter, but that was the extent of it.  Her father kept her out of his old business as much as he could manage, so she knew very little details other than what the papers wrote.  

"I'm Vega," she held out her hand, "and you are?"

The boy's full lips quirked up in a genuine smile, his white teeth showing brilliantly.  "Draco," he introduced himself and took her hand.  They shook once, leaning over across the booth slightly and she inhaled the scent of his cologne.  It was delightfully earthy, with notes of oak filling her nostrils.  She wondered if he could smell the floral scent she'd spritzed over her wrists and neck before boarding the train.

"Well, Draco," she went on, "you are the first person I've met that's taken note of my existence."

He draped an arm over the back of the bench seat, growing more comfortable in her presence.  "Is that so?" His pale eyes gleamed.

"Yes." She placed a red ribbon to mark her page and shut the book.  "I was going to eat this alone, but since you're here I suppose I can share it."  He looked at her curiously as she stood up and smoothed down her dress to cover her milky white legs.  Reaching into the overhead compartment, she opened her trunk and pulled out a single, oversized, chocolate cookie.  She turned to him with a mischievous grin.

"A cookie?" he asked, unsure why she looked so suspicious with it in her hand.

"In precisely," she looked down at the watch on her wrist, "three minutes it will officially be my seventeenth birthday.  According to a tradition that I started two years ago, I like to eat a special treat.  This," she held up the cookie for him to inspect, "is infused."

Draco smirked and sat up straighter.  "Infused with what?"  His sharp jawline clenched with eagerness.

"Marijuana mostly, but there's some cocoa powder and sugar in there as well."  Her green eyes glistened in the early afternoon sun.  "It'll be out of our system by the time we arrive, but if you don't want to..."

"I'll do it," he said a bit too quickly and scooted over in his seat to be right across from her.

She smirked at the handsome boy and pulled the cookie from its plastic bag.  "Shall we split it down the middle?"

Draco took out a sleek, black wand and muttered a quick, "Diffindo!"  The cookie split perfectly in half in her palm.  She smiled and handed him half.

"Probably for the best that we only get half.  I bake them quite strong," she giggled and popped a bite into her mouth.

Draco wolfed his down and sat back, watching her take her time.  "You baked it yourself?" he checked.  "Don't you have a house elf that does the cooking?"  He claps his hands together to get rid of the crumbs.

It didn't surprise her that he'd ask such a question, judging by the way he was dressed.  "We have a house elf.  Billium," she stated.  "I can't very well go about asking my parent's house elf to bake me a batch of pot cookies, now can I?  Besides, I enjoy baking.  It gives me something to do with my hands," she finished her piece and sat back with a smile on her face.

"Well," he started, "you're an excellent baker.  That was delicious."  His compliment gave her a swelling of pride.  She'd never shared one of her creations with anyone before, but Draco seemed like he was in need of a nice, relaxing high.  His knee had been bouncing ever since he sat down, and she could practically sense his inner turmoil raging within.

"Thank you, Draco."  His head snapped up at the sound of his name from her lips, but he turned away just as quickly.

"Have you been sorted yet?" he asked suddenly.

"No," she said in a bored tone.  "Apparently transfers are sorted in the headmistress's office with the Head Boy and Head Girl."  A tiny chuckle escaped his mouth and she eyed him.  "What is it?"

"For some reason, McGonagall made me Head Boy this year."  He seemed especially confused as to why.

"Are you a trouble maker?" It was meant to come off playful, but the way his face contorted and he emitted a scoff made her realize he took it to heart.

"Something like that," he mumbled.  "What were you reading?" Draco abruptly changed the subject.

"Oh," Vega glanced down at the forest green hardback, "its called The Hobbit," she said.  "A muggle book, but it has wizards in it."

He seemed to carefully decide on what to say next.  "I've never read a muggle book before.  Do a lot of them write about us?"

"Some," she mused.  "Just what they think we are.  This one is an old man with a magic staff, but it makes for a good story."

Draco grinned and shook his head.  "My father would never let me read that."  Despite his laugh, she could see the hurt in his steely orbs.  She noticed, for the first time, how tired he appeared.  His eyes had dark circles beneath them, only noticeable when she stared long enough.  His platinum hair was gelled and parted neatly, but his overall demeanor contrasted with how put together he was trying to look.

"Would you like to read it?  You can borrow it if you like.  And hey," she added and leaned forward to diffuse the tension, "it can be our little secret."

Draco turned to face her and one side of his lips pulled up.  "I'd like that," he breathed out.  She took the ribbon from her page and held it out to him.  He frowned.  "After you've finished," he clarified, but she shook her head. 

"I've read it twice already.  This was going to be my third.  I already know what happens to Bilbo and Thorin.  You can read it."  She pushed it a fraction closer and he reached out to take it.  His slender white fingers grazed her ever so gently as he accepted her offer.  "When I need an escape, I read.  It's like diving into another world," she said dreamily.

Draco smiled at the way she talked.  "I don't think I've ever read anything that wasn't assigned by a professor before," he admitted softly.

"Then its my absolute pleasure to gift this to you." She pointed to the green book in his hands.  "Keep it.  Consider it my way of thanking you for being kind towards me."

A look of surprise graced his pale features before he wiped it away, clearing his throat.  "Thank you," he said carefully.  She nodded smally and settled back into the leather seat.  

It was a comfortable silence that filled the booth as they both watched the trees and Scottish scenery fly by the window.  "Woah," he interrupted their silence.

She turned to him, knowing fully well what he meant and beamed as uncontrollable laughter bubbled up.  "I warned you it was strong," she giggled.

"You weren't joking," he laughed alongside her.  "I haven't felt this relaxed in a long time," he informed her and let his gray eyes close for a moment.  His legs fell open as he rested deeper into his seat.  "Happy birthday," he said.

Vega grinned at him and let her body melt into the seat.  They laughed and talked animatedly the rest of the way.  Hogwarts was a topic they both avoided entirely, but they discussed everything else under the sun.

"You're favorite food is apples?  That's so boring!" Draco was holding his side laughing so hard.

Vega couldn't contain her own fit of giggles as she defended herself.  "I just like them!  Alright then, let's hear yours."  She waited expectantly for what was sure to be something elaborate.

"My old house elf, Dobby, used to make this roast chicken that would be so tender it just fell off the bone."  He recalled fondly.

"Old?  Why did you get a new one?" she asked out of curiosity.  House elves were meant to serve their masters until death.

His expression changed, a hardness coming over his eyes.  "My father freed him, and then he died.  Now we have Nelly.  Her chicken is okay," he looked out the window and sighed.

The train pulled up below the castle as night settled around them.  "Nervous?" he asked as she pulled on her standard Hogwarts robe.

"A bit," she said and pulled her long raven curls from her robe to let them rest on her back.  "I just hope I don't get sorted into Slytherin."

He paused, standing at the door with his black bag slung over one shoulder and the green book tucked neatly under his arm.  "What would be so bad about Slytherin?"

Vega rolled her eyes.  "What wouldn't be?  You know what they say about that house.  Even in Beaubaxton's we've heard about all the dark wizards and witches it produced.  The Macnairs, the Rosiers, the Carrows, the Malfoys..." she paused and gave him a crooked smile.  "Need I go on?"

Draco ripped the door open and huffed, "No," before storming out of the booth.

Vega frowned at his behavior and went to follow, but a swarm of first years were jogging down the aisle and nearly knocked her over.  She waited for them to clear before heading out.  Draco was nowhere in sight.

"Second through seventh years!" called a very large and hairy man.  "Head straight through the gates to the carriages!  First years, with me!"  The crowd began to part as the first years stumbled over one another to a slew of boats docked on the lake.  She watched as groups of teens wandered under the great arches of an iron gate to rows of carriages.  She spotted Draco standing in front of one, moving his hand in a way as if he was touching something she couldn't see before taking a seat beside a pug faced witch that slung her arm in his.  The carriage took off by itself.

"Thestrals," said a soft voice behind her.  "He isn't crazy.  I can see them too."  Vega whirled around to see a girl with blonde hair down to her hips and a dazed smile fixed on her porcelain face.  "Luna," she extended her hand.

"Vega," she replied.  

"You can share my carriage if you like.  Most of my friends have gone off work at the Ministry."  Luna climbed up onto the cushioned seat and patted it.  

"Sure," Vega accepted the offer and loaded on.  A few other students hopped up and the carriage took off.  

"I like your dress," Luna complimented, peeking over the top of an upside down magazine.

"Oh, thank you.  I like your," Vega took in her appearance, "shoes."  Her shoes were unique to say the least.  Swirls of blue and purple with little gemstones embedded in random places.  

Luna gave her a toothy grin and lowered her magazine.  "I made them myself," she explained proudly.  "I've enchanted them to keep away Nargals." 

Vega couldn't help but giggle at the strange girl.  "What house are you in, Luna?"

"Ravenclaw, you?"

"I just transferred from Beaubaxton's, so I'll find out soon." 

"Perhaps we will end up sharing a dorm," she said in a friendly voice.  Vega nodded, grinning from ear to ear, and thankful that she may have made a new friend.

When they arrived at the castle, Luna bid her farewell and skipped into the great hall while Vega ascended another flight of stairs and met a stern looking woman at the top.  "Vega Candlewood?" the woman checked, looking between her and a sheet of parchment.  Vega nodded.  "Follow me."

Her long green robes swept behind her as she took Vega to a statue of a winged gargoyle where she muttered, "Phoenix." The gargoyle began to spin and spiral upwards as a staircase twisted up with it.  The woman stepped onto the stairs and motioned for Vega to join her.  They entered a grand office filled with books and floating instruments that she had no idea the purpose of.  She was glad to see that they were the only two inside.  "Miss Candlewood, I'm Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Pleased to meet you," Vega said automatically.

The old woman smiled warmly, letting the stern expression melt off her face.  "We are honored to have your father teach here, and more so to gain you as a student.  You're high marks from Beaubaxton's Academy are quite impressive."  Vega went to respond when the doors opened behind them.  "Ah, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Lovegood," she welcomed the newcomers in.

Vega felt her heart stop at the name as Draco and Luna strolled in side by side.  He was a Malfoy.  A warmth spread over her cheeks at the realization.  "Miss Candlewood," Draco's face twitched at her last name and she knew he'd recognize it immediately, "this is our Head Boy, Draco Malfoy, and our Head Girl, Luna Lovegood.  They will be overseeing the student body this year and making sure everything is in order within the houses.  You can go to them if you ever need anything, and they'll be glad to help."

Draco held out his hand, a sense of arrogance about him that wasn't present on the train, and said with a smirk, "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Candlewood."

She swallowed hard and let him shake her hand, acutely aware of the firm squeeze he gave her.  "Likewise," she mumbled.

"Nice to see you again, Vega." Luna beamed at the her.

McGonagall raised a brow.  "We shared a carriage," Vega explained.

The headmistress smiled with closed lips and crossed the room to retrieve a dusty, worn looking hat from a shelf.  "Shall we?" She motioned for Vega to sit on a stool in front of the large desk.  "First years are sorted upon arrival in the great hall during a ceremony, but we don't require transfers to go up in front of everyone.  It can be a bit...daunting.  Transfers are only required to be witnessed by the headmistress and head students at Hogwarts.  Sit," she reinforced her silent request and Vega hopped onto the stool.  She placed the hat on her head and was grateful it fell over her eyes a bit so she didn't have to see the way Draco was staring at her.

"Hmm," came a voice in her head.  "Another Candlewood, is it then?  I remember when your father was in this seat.  Slytherin, he was."  Vega squeezed her eyes shut and heard the hat chortle.  "Not keen on Slytherin, aye?  You've got potential to do great things, you know..." it trailed off and hummed to itself.  "Brains, loyalty, and bravery, hmm..." She wished it would just get on with it.  She found herself chewing on her lower lip anxiously.  "I know just where to put you...RAVENCLAW!"  She could hear the word echo around her and knew the hat had bellowed it out loud.

McGonagall pulled the hat off and she saw Draco and Luna watching her.  Luna was smiling ear to ear while Draco was glowering at her and fiddling with a badge on his breast pocket.  "Ravenclaw will be glad to have you as an addition," the headmistress spoke happily.  "Miss Lovegood can show you to your dormitory.  You'll find your bags have already been brought up."  Luna hooked her arm in hers and pulled her out as she heard, "A word, Mr. Malfoy?" from behind her.

"You're going to love Ravenclaw!" Luna gushed in a sing-song voice.  They approached a door with no knob or handle, only an eagle shaped knocker wrought in bronze.  Luna whispered, "Studious," and the door swung open.  Vega marveled at the common room.  Couches and armchairs in royal blue were scattered about in front of glowing fires burning from stone hearths.  The walls were lined in bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling and took her breath away.  "The girls' dormitories are up here, and you can share my room.  There's room for four, but its only myself and Arabelle this year, so you're welcome to join us.  I didn't feel right staying in the private dorms for the Head Girl.  I don't like to keep to myself these days," her voice sounded far off as Vega looked around.

True to her word, Luna opened the door and showed her a room with four large canopy beds draped in blue silk.   The walls were periwinkle with little silver ravens speckled about.  Three beds had luggage neatly piled atop and she saw her trunk sitting on the end beside a silky silver pillow.  "It looks like the decision was already made for me," she noted and Luna smiled.

"Professor McGonagall is very intuitive."  Luna skipped over to Vega's things and picked up a black robe that had been sitting on the bed.  "You can change into your new robe before the welcome feast.  It's quite spectacular," she said wistfully.  Vega slipped out of the generic robe and donned the new one.  The hood was line in blue, as well as the inside, and a Ravenclaw crest was displayed over her left breast.  It suited her, but the green dress seemed to clash with the new set of colors.

"I think I'll skip the feast.  I'm not very hungry," she said with a grimace.  Luna shrugged indifferently and skipped back out of the room and down the stairs.  Vega collapsed onto the bed and sighed.  It hadn't even been a full day and she'd already offended the Head Boy and befriended the school's Head Girl without much effort.  She'd already heard the spiel on curfew, but she decided it was worth the risk.  Grabbing one of her many muggle books from her trunk, she tucked it into her robes and descended the stairs before running back up to change shoes.  The clacking of her heels would be a dead giveaway.  She traded them out for a pair of black slippers and pulled on a pair of jeans and a white blouse, knowing fully well she would freeze in her dress outside.  

Vega tiptoed down the maze of corridors, mostly guessing the whole way, and sighed with relief when she found a way outside.  The grounds were unlit, and only the light of the moon illuminated her way.  She saw a sparkling off in the distance and decided that would be a good spot to sit and read.  As she approached the lake she tossed her book into the grass and carefully gathered her robe around her to use as a blanket.  A tree near the water's edge made a useful backrest and she reclined against it.

She opened the little crimson book and began to read the first page.  It was quiet, save for the sound of the waves gently overlapping on the shore and the breeze that lightly rustled the leaves, and for that she was grateful.  The thought of having to sit down and see her father up in front of the school made her stomach churn.  He wasn't the kindest man, nor was he a doting father, but he had an air about him that commanded respect.  

She let herself get lost in her book until a twig snapping behind her caught her attention.  She whipped out her Birchwood wand and aimed it at the cause of the noise.  Her heart hammered in her chest as she laid eyes on a great white wolf growling at her.  She lowered her wand and the beast gradually ceased its growls.  Holding out her hand, she took one step closer, forgetting her book entirely.  "Hello," she cooed.  The wolf didn't move.  "You beautiful creature," she whispered and the wolf tentatively padded closer to her as she set her wand on the ground beside her as a gesture of good faith.  "Did I steal your spot?" 

The wolf stopped just short of her hand and she closed the distance.  Her hand lowered slowly until it made contact with it's ivory fur.  It was soft and plush beneath her fingers, like a baby blanket.  She knelt down once she decided it wasn't going to hurt her.  The wolf stared at her, level with one another's gaze, and she saw how its eyes were a gorgeous metallic swirl of blue and silver.  "You won't bit me, will you?" she checked with a smirk.

The wolf licked her palm and pushed its head into her touch.  She chuckled to herself and scratched it behind the ears.  "No, you won't," she mused.  She rested back against the tree and let the wolf come to her this time.  It curled up in a ball and placed its head in her lap as she absentmindedly stroked its fur.  "I suppose Hogwarts won't be so bad after all," she sighed and the wolf's ears perked at her words, "as long as you keep me company."  With that, the wolf nuzzled into her and blew out soft, contented breaths under the moon.