Lauren was used to being talked about. She was used to being the source of gossip. It had been this way most of her life. But the hushed whisperings and outlandish gossip that had been following her of late had now increased ten fold after the attack of the Dementors. As crazy as it seemed, Lauren highly suspected that her celebrity status had now surpassed that of Potter's by a landslide.

As with all rumours that do the rounds in a school environment, the latest did not paint her in a good light.

'What had happened to Lauren Ward to cause the Dementors to be drawn to her like that?'

'It must have been horrible! Everyone knows that Dementors are enticed more by people who have gone through something traumatic...'

'I wonder what it was?'

'Nothing good, I can tell you that much.'

'I bet that's why she grew up in a Muggle orphanage. Something bad must have happened to her parents -'

'I wonder if she saw them being killed?'

'Or maybe she killed them herself She does have a rather foul temper.'

'Yeah, she can be quite violent. Just look what she did to those three Gryffindor boys.'

"I swear they're going to find out just how bad my temper can be if they don't shut the hell up," Lauren muttered darkly after overhearing this theory for what must have been the hundredth time; a rumour that Pansy and her foul, loathsome gang had started and the rest of the mindless school had gone along with it.

The idea of slipping a rare and deadly poison into the three girls' morning coffee was becoming more and more appealing.

"Just ignore them, Lauren," Tracey muttered as they made their way back to their dormitory at the end of the school day. "After we get your blood status results back in a few weeks, that'll give them something new to talk about. This will all be forgotten about soon enough."

"I just can't understand how they can believe such lies."

"Does it surprise you?"

"Well, no. But still."

Tracey sighed. "Lauren, this is Pansy Parkinson we're talking about. She doesn't care about the truth. She just cares about making others as miserable as possible."

"I know that, but it would be great if some of these idiots in this school actually even bothered to find out the actual truth instead of believing any bull and cock story that comes their way."

Tracey cast her a shrewd sideways look. "And what is the truth, Lauren?"

Lauren's strides faltered, and she came to a standstill. Tracey halted as well and angled her body so that she was now facing Lauren, arching a questioning brow at her friend. As Lauren stared back at her, she knew that the time had finally come where Tracey was starting to demand the truth. Lauren just hadn't expected it to be quite so soon. She had figured that their conversation after the attack of the Dementors had ironed things over and had appeased the other girl, but it was obvious that their little talk had raised more questions than answers.

The two girls stared at each other, Lauren mentally scrabbling for the best course of action to take, while Tracey silently watched her with those solemn brown eyes, her expression all too serious.

Schooling her features as best as she could, Lauren hedged, "What are you talking about, Tracey?"

Tracey pressed her lips together in a thin line and stared at Lauren for a moment longer. Coming to a decision, she glanced over her shoulder. Noting that they were alone, she then faced Lauren, her resolve settled.

"What happened to you?" she asked in an even tone.

Lauren knew exactly what she was referring to, but decided to play dumb. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with Tracey right now. "You're going to have to be more specific, Tracey. I'm not quite sure what you mean -"

"What happened to you in your past to cause the Dementors to be drawn to you the way that they are?" Tracey cut in, her tone suggesting that she was not going to take any of Lauren's nonsense.

Lauren swallowed hard. There was no ideal way of avoiding this question. "I...I don't know," she finally offered feebly.

Tracey let out a mirthless laugh; a laugh that held a hint of bitterness. Tracey's understanding, it would seem, had finally come to an end. "I knew you would try to avoid telling me the truth."

There was no denying the sad resignation that was mixed with contempt as Tracey turned away with a shake of her head and started walking down the corridor.

Lauren had a moment to contemplate what to do next. A saying she had heard a long time ago sprang to mind: 'Don't expect loyalty from someone who can't even give you honesty.'

Loyalty, she was starting to realize, played a huge part in forming the solid foundations of friendship. Tracey had been nothing but unwaveringly loyal and honest with her. Could Lauren say the same about herself? Granted, she was keeping secrets from her friend to keep her safe in the long run. It was far too dangerous for Tracey to the truth about certain things, especially about the upcoming war.

But Lauren also knew that soon her lies would cause the foundation of their friendship to crack if she could not be truthful with Tracey, who would ultimately view Lauren's caginess as a lack of loyalty and commitment to their friendship. It would ultimately be misconstrued as a betrayal of sorts.

Lauren knew she needed to fix this and fast.

"Tracey," she called out, her voice echoing along the empty and hollow corridor.

Tracey halted and, after a hesitant pause, glanced back over her shoulder at Lauren.

Lauren gnawed at her bottom lip, indecisiveness warring within her, and then glanced up and down the corridor. Coming to a decision, she finally asked asked, her voice sounding small to her ears, "Would you like to join me at the boathouse?"

Usually during this time of year it was far too cold for most students to even think about venturing down there. The boathouse was an open concept structure that offered very little in the way of shelter against the cruel winds, rain, cold and snow of the Highland winters. It was also the perfect place right now to have a private conversation.

Tracey picked up on Lauren's hint and, after a brief pause of contemplation, gave a slight nod of her head, her sleek bob rustling around her pale face with the movement.

Without another word spoken between them, both girls made their way outside to the courtyard, finding it mostly deserted as the students of Hogwarts opted to stay inside in the relative warmth of the castle. The weather had gradually turned harsher and colder throughout the day, the skies grey and overcast on the horizon. The chill brought on by the mountainous winds pierced their lungs like a dagger, causing both girl's to gasp and draw their robes more securely against their bodies to ward off the iciness that threatened to seep through to their very marrow.

With heads bowed they hastened their steps and descended the steep zigzagging stone steps that led down to the boathouse.

Reaching the entrance of the structure, both girls hastily withdrew their wands and cast a warming charm upon themselves, letting out equally grateful sighs as tendrils of warmth kissed along their chilled skin.

Tracey stepped further into the boathouse, but Lauren faltered. The last time she had been here had been over two years ago shortly after she had regained her memory of Deacon murdering her. She had sat in this very building, weeping bitterly over a life she had lost and ultimately had no choice but to let go of any hope of returning. There was something crushing about having that choice taken away from you. Being here now only served to dredge up those painful memories – memories that were akin to mourning.

You never truly know how strong you are until all your choices are taken away from you and you are forced to rebuild yourself from the ashes.

"Lauren? Are you okay?" Tracey asked, causing Lauren to snap out of her thoughts. She glanced up to note the concern written all over Tracey's features as she stared back at her. "You look ill."

Lauren sighed and went over to one of the benches lining the wall, settling upon the hard, unyielding wood. She leaned back and closed her eyes, inhaling the mildewy scent that permeated the air of the building. She discerned the water gently lapping against the sides of the old creaking building, and in the distance she could hear the hoot of an owl. The bench creaked as Tracey settled beside her and Lauren slowly opened her eyes, sparing Tracey a brief glance.

The girl in question remained silent, waiting for Lauren to gather her thoughts. Lauren didn't think she was ever going to be ready to retell tales of her traumatic childhood, but Tracey wanted to know the truth of what happened to her, and the truth is what she was going to get.

"I was born as an only child to my parents. I was not an orphan. Well, at least not for the first ten years of my life."

Tracey was sitting on the edge of her seat, listening intently to Lauren with undivided attention. She remained completely silent, allowing Lauren to tell her story.

"My childhood was...not very nice," Lauren stated, her tone monotonous as she stared through the arched window pane on the other side of the boathouse, the scenery beyond reflecting swirling grey clouds that threatened to dump them with a heavy helping of snow overnight. Poetically, the scene beyond reflected her inner turmoil perfectly.

"How...how bad was it?" Tracey finally asked when the silence had stretched on long enough, her voice hesitant and barely above a whisper.

Lauren closed her eyes tightly, wanting nothing more than to forget those years of abuse.

"Bad," she finally admitted, her voice hitching ever so slightly.

"Those scars on your back..."

Lauren knew exactly which scars Tracey was referring to. A few that decorated her back, but were enough to tell a tale of an abusive parent.

"Compliments of my father."

She glanced over at Tracey and saw that her features had paled significantly. It was now her turn to look ill.

"Did your mother do nothing to stop it?" Tracey blurted out, her tone filled with indignation. It was obvious that she could not comprehend that a mother would stand aside and let her child be beaten. Her own mother was the epitome of a loving parent. Tracey would never know what it would be like to live the life Lauren had.

"Nope," Lauren stated, popping the 'p'.

Tracey's eyes widened when she glimpsed the truth on Lauren's face, and she hastily glanced away, her features twisting into a grimace.

"But...why?"

"Because, Tracey, she was not a very good mother. Not all of us are gifted with loving mothers like your own," Lauren bit back. She was feeling irrationally angry towards Tracey for forcing the truth out of her. For having the perfect parents. And, in her eyes, having the perfect life.

Tracey leaned forward, her arms hugging her middle. Her hair fell around her face, obscuring her features from Lauren's sight.

"That's no fair, Lauren. You can't blame me for having a good mother and father."

Lauren exhaled deeply through her nose. Tracey was right. Lauren had no right to blame her for growing up normal. It wasn't fair for her to do so. "You're right. I'm sorry, Tracey."

Silence stretched before them and Lauren finally decided to break it. Her next question held neither resentment nor bitterness; it was unfeeling as though Lauren had no more energy within herself to feel anything at this exact moment. "Does that answer your question?"

Tracey tilted her head to the side and stared back at Lauren with tears brimming in those pools of chocolate brown eyes. Eyes that held sorrow and regret.

"You must have realized that my past could not have been very pleasant, Tracey, considering how much the Dementors are drawn to me."

"I...I had been hoping I was wrong."

"Well, you're weren't."

Both girls fell silent, neither quite knowing what to say.

"So what happened next?"

Both Lauren and Tracey leapt to their feet and whirled around to face the entrance of the boathouse, withdrawing their wands in the process. Draco Malfoy stepped out of the shadows, his hands thrust deep into his robe pockets as he neared them. His sharp blue eyes were watching Lauren shrewdly, but there was no malicious contempt to be seen within those icy depths. In fact, if Lauren didn't know any better, she would almost say that he was just as disturbed by her confession as Tracey was. He was just better at hiding it.

He understands – to some extent – what I went through. His father, after all, can't be described as very loving, though I don't think he's physically abusive towards Draco. Maybe bullies him around a bit, but that's bad enough in itself.

Tracey was glancing back and forth between the two, waiting with bated breath to see what Lauren's reaction was going to be. It was one thing to tell her the truth, it was another to tell Draco.

As Lauren stared back at Draco, she somehow sensed that this was going to be a turning point for all of them. Her confession was going to be one of the contributing factors that would somehow bind and bring them together. It was now up to her whether she was going to allow that to happen or not.

"How much did you hear?"

"All if it. I saw you two leaving and decided to follow and eavesdrop," he stated without a hint of shame at having done so.

This did not surprise Lauren. This was Draco after all. She gave a nod of her head and settled back on the cold hard wood of the bench. "Good. I really didn't fancy having to repeat myself."

After a moment's pause, Draco and Tracey settled beside her. The moment was not lost on Lauren, flanked by two of the people she trusted the most in this world; these two annoying and bothersome teenagers who had become her crutch, her support system. It was time to open herself up to them.

"After a particularly bad...beating that landed me in hospital," Lauren continued, making sure to keep her tone clinically detached, "the authorities were finally called in." Lauren glanced down and started to pick at a thread on the sleeve of her robe. A slender, pale hand came into view and Tracey clasped her hand in her own. She gave her hand a gentle squeeze, offering Lauren her silent support and comfort.

Lauren drew in a ragged breath, and slowly lifted her head, unable to spare a glance in either of her friends' direction as emotions overcame her. It took her a few moments, but she finally managed to tamper down the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

"What happened to your parents?" Draco finally asked.

"From what I was told, they only served a few months in jail."

A sharp intake of breath foretold that Tracey was shocked by this news. Draco, on the other hand, didn't seem surprised by this news and he remained silent, watching Lauren with keen observation.

"I was placed in a foster home. My foster mother's name was Jennifer." A small smile stretched on Lauren's lips at the memory of the beloved woman that was more mother to her than her own biological one.

"She was good to you, wasn't she?" Tracey inquired.

"Yes. Yes she was." Lauren turned her head to the side and smiled at Tracey, who returned her smile with a small one of her own.

Draco's question cut through the moment. "Was?"

This was the part Lauren was going to have to lie heavily about. As much as she trusted these two, there was no way they could ever learn that she was a thirty-odd year old woman from another world who had been transfigured back into a child. Even in the magical world of Harry Potter, this would be considered downright crazy. She was getting away by telling them certain aspect of her childhood, but that's as much as she could reveal.

"She died of a brain aneurysm a year later."

"Oh, Lauren. I'm so sorry!" Tracey cried, covering her mouth with her free hand.

Lauren gave a nod of her head, the memory still too raw and painful to fully acknowledge.

Another hand sidled into her field of vision and Draco took her free hand in his own. Lauren glanced up sharply at him, but he refused to meet her gaze, staring resolutely ahead of him. Draco, though uncomfortable with offering any form of comfort – the concept being rather foreign to him – was doing so nonetheless because he truly did care about her. This touched Lauren to the core and she felt hot tears sting her eyes.

The three teenagers sat there in silence, the grey sky reflected outside gradually darkening as night prepared its onslaught. Tracey and Draco silently gave their comfort to the girl sitting between them who had suffered a far worse childhood than either could comprehend.

"Why did you tell everyone that you grew up in an orphanage?" Draco suddenly asked, this thought having just occurred to him.

Lauren drew her bottom lip between her teeth. This was something else she had no choice but to lie about. A lie that had already been fabricated for her when Dumbledore had made inquiries about her and had discovered that a story line of her being dropped off at an orphanage when she was a baby had already been set in place by whatever old magic had brought her to this world in the first place. She just hoped no one dug too deep, searching for clues as to who she truly was.

"I was in an orphanage. I was just a few hours old when I was dumped there. And then I was adopted. I guess my parents were loving at first, but I have no memory of that." Lauren breathed in deeply through her nose and exhaled, causing her nostrils to flare. If she wasn't careful she was going to trip up in these web of lies. "Dumbledore thought it would be better if the students did not know about my...abusive past," she continued. "We both agreed to stick with the orphanage story and keep it at that."

"Lauren," Tracey murmured from beside her, causing Lauren to glance over at her friend. Tracey gave her a small, watery smile. "Thank you for telling me."

Lauren started to return the smile but Draco cut in. "And thanks for telling me as well. Though, you really had no choice in the matter did you, considering I overheard everything."

Lauren whipped her head in Draco's direction and found him grinning impishly back at her, that old familiar teasing light glinting in those ice blue eyes. And just like that, things reverted back to normal between them, the foundations of the Silver Trio solidifying.

"Anyone tell you you're a prat, Draco?" Lauren asked.

"It's been a while, but I'm sure you're going to make up for lost time, Ward."

Lauren couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up.

Oh, how I've missed that prat!

Draco's thoughts seemed to mirror her own, for he gave her a playful wink before releasing her hand.

He started to rise to his feet, but then another thought occurred to him, causing him to sit back down, a frown tugging at his brows. "Don't you find it odd that your adoptive parents share the same surname as your ancestor, Bethany Ward?"

Lauren would have panicked, but she had already mulled this over in the past, this question having occurred to her more than once. How could her real parents, who resided in a completely different world, possibly be of any relation to Bethany Anne Ward? The answer, she had to conclude, was that they weren't. Otherwise it would have somehow shown up on her records, on the Ward family tree. So this was either a fluke, or maybe something much more complicated than she had any hope of understanding was at hand here.

"I have thought about that, Draco, and the simple answer is that I honestly don't know." She glanced at him, willing him to believe her.

Draco stared at her for a moment and then gave a nod of his head, accepting her answer.

"Well, you two had best be getting back to the dormitory. It's starting to get dark," he said, rising to his feet and nudging his platinum blonde hair in the direction of the entrance to the boathouse.

"What about you?" Tracey asked.

Draco stared at back at her and Lauren could see the painful truth shimmering in those arctic eyes. He wanted nothing more than to go with Tracey. To follow her wherever she went. But he could not.

"I'll wait here a bit," he said, hastily glancing away and plunging his hands deep into his robe pockets. "It'll be better this way."

Tracey looked as though she didn't want to leave him either, but finally gave a nod of her head and took Lauren's hand in her own, starting to lead her away.

Lauren was about to follow but realized that she had forgotten something very important. She glanced over her shoulder and called out, "Congrats on winning the Quidditch match, Blondie! I'm proud of you."

Draco rolled his eyes, though he did seem pleased at the praise. "I thought you promised never to call me that again."

Lauren mock pouted. "I'm sure you'll find a way to get me back."

He grinned back at her. "You bet." He gave her a small incline of his head, a silent goodbye until next time. His gaze then lingered on Tracey, following her until they had exited the boathouse.

As they trudged up to the castle, the air growing more and more frigid as the grey clouds overhead grew heavier with snow, Tracey was uncharacteristically quiet. Lauren could guess that there was a lot playing on her mind.

"Penny for your thoughts."

"I'm glad you told me the truth, Lauren."

Relief flooded her, but that relief was short lived by Tracey's follow-up comment. "But I know there's more that you're not telling me."

Lauren halted in her progression up the stairs, staring up at Tracey. The other girl paused as well and angled her body so that she was now looking down at Lauren.

Uh-oh.

Tracey drew in a deep breath, steeling herself, and continued. "I know you have your reasons, Lauren, especially if what you've just told me is anything to go by. I shudder to think..." Tracey trailed off, looking marginally unsettled. She shook her head and met Lauren's gaze. "But I want you to know that when you're ready to tell me everything, I'm right here. No judgment. She gave Lauren a meaningful look and then added more quietly, "I'll always be there for you."

Lauren was at a loss for words. She could count on one hand the number of people she could trust enough to turn turn if she really really needed their help.

The seconds ticked by and she knew Tracey was waiting for some sort of acknowledgement.

"You know what, Tracey," Lauren finally said, walking up the few steps that separated them until she was eye level with her friend.

"What?"

"I think I really lucked out finding a friend like you," she said in all seriousness, for it was the absolute truth.

Tracey blinked in surprise before a slow smile spread across her face, alighting her features with an inner light that radiated from her pleasure at this praise. "Coming from you, Lauren, that was almost a declaration of love," she teased.

"It was."

Tracey's eyes widened. It was very rare for Lauren to be so expressive with matters of the heart.

"And you're right, Tracey," Lauren continued, staring off into the distance of the rolling Highlands, which was swiftly becoming enshrouded by the blanket of night. Lanterns all around them flickered to life, their precious orbs of glowing yellow light illuminating their way back to the castle. Turning back to her friend, she continued, "There's quite a bit I'm not telling you. But I need you to trust me that there's a very good reason why."

Tracey was silent for a few beats and then gave a nod of her head. "Okay. I'll accept that."

Lauren should have felt relieved, but she couldn't help but wonder how long it would be until Tracey started questioning, digging for the truth again.

The following weeks saw the castle becoming a hive of activity as the Christmas holidays drew near, the interior being decked out in garish and fetish decorations. Hagrid had gone all out with twelve of the most massive and bushiest pines Lauren had ever seen, and the teachers had outdone themselves decorating each tree with hundreds of rainbow coloured baubles, ribbons, bows and tinsel. Flickering candles enchanted to faze out to different colours were balanced on each and every branch, and Lauren had to wonder how the castle hadn't burned down yet with all the fire hazards those candles represented.

Hanging mistletoe dangled from every doorway and a continuous loop of Christmas carols were playing in the background somewhere. Try as they might, though, no one could ever seem to find the source of the annoying music. Garlands and wreaths adorned every door and ledge. The only place that seemed marginally untouched were the dungeons, and Lauren highly suspected that Snape was responsible for the lack of decorations.

"So, you're spending the next two weeks at my place," Tracey stated matter-of-factly as she plonked herself down next to Lauren at on of the tables in the Slytherin Common Room.

"I am?" Lauren asked, glancing up distractedly from her Transfiguration essay that she was currently tackling. Even now, with the holidays right upon them, the teachers were still stringent will doling out the homework.

"Yup. My parents insist, so there's no backing out now," Tracey stated.

Lauren placed her quill down and leaned back in her chair, giving her friend her now undivided attention. "Did it ever occur to you that I might have other plans?"

"Do you?"

"No. But i might have."

Tracey rolled her eyes. "Well then, cancel them. My father is going to take you to the Ministry of Magic for your blood status test. That's far more important than whatever else you had in mind."

Lauren didn't miss the way Tracey had raised her voice when she had mentioned the Ministry of Magic, nor had she failed to notice the sudden interest Pansy Parkinson and her gang were giving them at this bit of information regarding the blood test. Pansy, Daphne and Millicent were notorious gossips, and this would be the surest and quickest way to spread this bit of news around the school. Judging by the way they were giving each other conspiratorial grins and whispering amongst themselves, Tracey's plan was working. Those three girls had just been played and they hadn't even realized it.

"Well then. When you put it like that, how can I refuse?" Lauren asked, shooting Tracey a conspiratorial wink; a gesture that Tracey returned with a sly grin of her own.

Smart and cunning. No wonder she was placed in Slytherin, Lauren mentally mused.

All too soon the school holidays were upon them and the school became a chaotic bustle as students, along with their respective trunks and caged pets, made their way to the front entrance of the castle, waiting to be transported to the Hogsmeade train station.

Lauren and Tracey, however, had received a note from Dumbledore himself instructing them to make their way to his office instead.

At the bottom of Lauren's note he had scrawled, 'I am quite partial to Acid Pops'.

Tracey frowned. "Acid Pops?"

"It's the password to his office," she explained.

Tracey shook her head. "He's brilliant, but I sometimes I wonder if his eccentricity is all part of an act."

Lauren folded up the note, making no comment. She had often wondered the same thing. Behind all that flamboyancy lay a very sharp, keen and cunning mind. Lauren was always wary around the wizard, feeling as though she were being played and manipulated in a very underhanded and subtle way.

The girls branched off from the tide of students that were filing out the castle, all bundled up in warm coats, hats and scarves to stave off the chill of winter, and instead made their way to Dumbledore's office.

"Where's Artemis?" Tracey suddenly asked.

"Probably out hunting. Don't worry, he'll find me if he needs me," Lauren stated, knowing full well that her raven in question would spend his Christmas holiday with his favourite – Snape.

Tracey nodded to herself. "I hope Dumbledore doesn't take too long with whatever he needs to see us for. I don't want to miss the train."

Lauren hummed in agreement, though she wasn't overly concerned. There were other ways to return home besides the Hogwarts Express.

"I wonder what he wants to see us for?" Tracey mused aloud. She was obviously bothered at having been summoned to the Headmaster's office.

"No idea, but we'll find out soon enough."

"Aren't you worried?"

"No. Should I be?"

"Well, we could be in some sort of trouble."

Lauren snorted. "I highly doubt it."

"How do you know?"

Lauren shot her friend a condescending look. "Firstly, it's the holidays. I doubt Dumbledore has any interest in punishing us now for something we may or may not have done. He, like the rest of the teachers, just wants us out of here and gone. Secondly, this is you we're talking about, Tracey. You're the Slytherin version of a Miss-goody-two-shoes....no, wait, Hermione Granger." Tracey shot her a withering glare, which Lauren promptly ignored. "Believe me, you're not in any trouble."

Tracey seemed appeased, but quickly became suspicious. "Did you do something that I'm not aware of?"

"Hey!" Lauren exclaimed, feeling decidedly insulted, not to mention personally attacked. "Why would you automatically assume I did something wrong?"

"Because you're a magnet for trouble."

Lauren huffed. "Well, be that as it may, I haven't done anything. At least, nothing that I can recall..."

They reached the gargoyle statues stationed at the spiralled staircase and Lauren uttered the password, causing the statues to leap aside and grant them entrance. Both girls ascended the winding stairs, neither speaking a word. Soon they reached the wooden door to Dumbledore's office and, after a momentary pause where they both shared a questioning look, Lauren raised her hand and rapped once upon the hard, unyielding wood.

The door opened and both girls stared up in open mouthed surprise at Silas Davis, who was smiling down at the two with fatherly affection.

Tracey was the first to get over her shock and embraced her father, wrapping her arms around his middle; a hug that Silas returned with just as much enthusiasm.

Lauren stared at the two, anxiety curling and twisting in the pit of her stomach.

Did something happen to Persephone? Is that why Silas is here?

Tracey seemed to come to the same conclusion, for she pulled away and stared up at her father.

"Is mum okay?"

"Of course she is, dear," Silas assured.

"Then...why are you here?" she blurted out. Lauren cringed at her lack of tact.

"Because I asked your father to come here today, Miss Davis," Dumbledore's kindly and grandfatherly voice called out from behind Silas.

Silas stepped aside to allow them entrance and Lauren noted that Dumbledore was seated behind his large ornate desk, the oak wood polished to a high gleam. His office remained unchanged, the various trinkets and ornaments ticking and whirring and spinning upon their various shelves and surfaces. Rows upon rows of leather bound tomes adorned the wall to ceiling bookshelf behind him and, currently, Fawkes' perch was absent of the Phoenix.

Dumbledore in question was adorned in a pea-green robe, vibrant yellow sunflowers embroidered into the material. Upon his head was perched a matching pointed hat. Lauren had to wonder if he had robes and hats of every colour imaginable hanging in his closet. She shuddered to think what a sight that would be, a clash of colours.

"And why did you do that?" Lauren asked, unable to keep the suspicion from her voice as she and Tracey stepped further into the room. Silas closed the door quietly behind them.

"Oh, nothing to alarm you, Miss Ward," Dumbledore answered good naturedly, his sharp blue eyes twinkling as her stared back at her. He motioned for them to be seated upon the three high-back chairs that faced his desk, and waited until they had done so before he continued. "Silas and I were just making certain arrangements. He contacted me about two weeks ago asking if you could stay with Tracey and her family for the Christmas holidays, and I was most agreeable. There's nothing better than spending quality time with friends, is there?"

Lauren remained silent at what she was sure was a rhetorical question, and waiting for him to get to the point.

"And after what happened on the train with the Dementor, I thought it would be a good idea if Mr. Davis personally came to pick you and Miss Davis up and Floo you back to his home," Dumbledore explained.

Oh, so now you're worried about my safety, Lauren thought bitingly. Granted, the arrangement that she and Dumbledore had with him being her 'silent' guardian worked perfectly for the both of them; an arrangement where she stayed out of his way and he stayed out of hers, and neither bothered each other unless absolutely necessary. But, of late, she had to wonder if he even really cared. It seemed as though all of his concern was centred around Harry Potter. It was hard not to feel some sort of resentment at the fact that she had almost died not once, but twice at the hands of the Dementors (and other instances beside) and he hadn't bothered to check on her well-being once.

"Makes sense," was all she said.

"Yes, I thought you might be most agreeable with that arrangement," the Headmaster stated with a crooked smile. Then his demeanour turned a tad more serious. "But there is another matter that needs to be discussed before you leave."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Dumbledore clasped his gnarled hands in front of him upon the desk and levelled Lauren with a penetrating look as he stared at her over his half-moon spectacles – a gaze that seemed to read every thought that crossed her mind. There was no hiding from that gaze. "I am well aware of the bullying you have received as a result of being Petrified by the Basilisk last year – a petrification that brought to light that you are perhaps Muggle-born. For the most part this does not bother the other students, but for your fellow Slytherins..." Dumbledore didn't need to elaborate. Every single member in this room, including Silas and Tracey, were all to aware how fanatical Slytherins were regarding blood purity. Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "I decided not to intervene as I didn't think you would appreciate my interference."

Lauren cocked her head to the side, unable to decide whether he was being genuinely sincerely or feeding her a whole bunch of bullshit. Though, casting her mind back, she knew from the books that Dumbledore wasn't a liar. He would avoid answering the truth sometimes, yes, but he wasn't actively known to outright lie.

"You are incredibly strong in spirit, Miss Ward," Dumbledore stated, unaware of her actual thoughts of him at that very moment, "and I thought you would be able to handle things well enough on your own. I am reminded, though, that even the strongest among us have a breaking point. This much is abundantly clear by the fact that you wish to take this blood status test."

Confusion flooded her. "Yeah...so?"

"What I'm asking, Miss Ward, is do you really think that the bullying is going to stop even if your blood status somehow shows that you are not Muggle-born?"

Is that why he thinks I'm doing this? Lauren thought with growing comprehension. He really thinks that I'm bothered by the idiocy of some punk asses that have little to no bearing on my life. Lauren wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. But then another thought hit her. He must not realize that I'm doing this solely for Draco...

Her frown became more pronounced as she mulled it over. No, Dumbledore was well aware of everything that went on in his castle. And he was an exceptionally intelligent man. He would have cottoned on as to why she was really doing this.

So what's his game plan then? There's more going on here...something I'm not quite grasping...

She glanced up and realized that Dumbledore was patiently waiting for her answer. She briefly contemplated acting dumb and saying that yes, she was doing this to stop the bullying, but Dumbledore would know she was lying. He knew full well that she didn't give two sweet fucks about the opinions of the other students.

"No...I don't think it will change a thing." She met his gaze head-on and refused to elaborate any further.

There was no discernible reaction from him. He simply looked as though he had expected this answer from her.

He leaned back in his chair, a feather-light sigh escaping his lips.

"The bullying won't cease, and neither will the opinions of others change."

"I understand that."

"And it will not suddenly make you more friends."

Lauren narrowed her eyes at the Headmaster.

Yup, he most definitely knows I'm doing this for Draco.

"And there's a very good chance that the results will come back stating that you're a Muggle-born, which will only make things worse for you, I'm afraid.

Lauren swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. This was the outcome she feared most. She was damn near certain that this was going to be the end result, and not only would she let Draco down, but Tracey as well.

"Do you still wish to go through with this, even though I'm cautioning you otherwise?" Dumbledore asked gently.

She felt a hand grip her own and she glanced over at Tracey, who was giving her a reassuring smile. Staring back at her friend she recalled Tracey telling her that it would not matter what her blood status was. She would stand by her regardless. But what about Draco?

I have faith in Draco, Lauren.

The memory of Tracey's declaration of the Malfoy boy came to the forefront of her mind and Lauren knew that she, herself, was going to have to have faith in him as well. She was going to have to have faith that he would return to their circle.

Lauren turned her attention back to Dumbledore. This needed to be done way way or the other.

"Yes," she replied.

Dumbledore stared back at her, and she got the distinct impression that he was trying very hard to dissuade her from doing the test.

But why?

She came to a single conclusion. He knows something. Something that he doesn't want me to know.

"Very well," Dumbledore finally said. "Your meeting at the Ministry of Magic is scheduled for December the nineteenth at nine in the morning. I will pick you up from the Davis residence and escort you there."

"But I thought..." Lauren trailed off, glancing confusedly at Silas Davis. She had been under the impression that he would be taking her. In fact, she would have much preferred going with him than Dumbles.

Silas noted her shocked expression and gave her a kindly smile. "The Headmaster, as your guardian, would be better suited taking you, Lauren."

Lauren was tempted to argue back, but decided to keep her mouth shut.

Silas made some small talk with the Headmaster before he rose to his feet, signalling that the meeting was over. He ushered the girls towards the fireplace and Tracey flung a fistful of the Floo powder into the hearth, causing the flames to flare vibrant green. She stepped into the fireplace and called out her residence, vanishing in a swirl of suffocating soot.

Next it was Lauren's turn. She repeated the process and opened her mouth to call out Tracey's address, but at that moment she happened to glance over at the Headmaster and noted the pained expression that crossed his face before he schooled his features. But she had glimpsed it. It was in that moment that she suddenly realized that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to hide whatever truth that was going to be revealed by this blood test because it was painful.

But is it painful for him? Or is it going to be painful for me?