Who's your OTP from this story? ;)

* ° * ° *

Drew washed out her wavy brown hair and watched the white bubbles drain away. She couldn't stop thinking about her boggart. Throughout the entire day, she kept stopping and staring at random things, just reminiscing.

Wilby and Cyndee had seemed unnerved by this, but Blaise had kept his promise of not telling him what had happened in that staff room.

Scowling, she switched off the tap with more force than necessary.

She took two towels off a rack only to reveal a mess of words scratched into the tiled wall with what had to be Permanent Ink. It was hardly news to find graffiti in the showers, but she read it anyway when a specific insult caught her eye:

MUDBLOODS HIDING IN SLYTHERIN

Under it was a huge list of names, all Slytherins who were Muggle-born (her) or had Muggle-sounding surnames. The only ones she cared enough to notice were hers, Quentin's, and Xavier's. Well, that was idiotic because she knew for a fact Xavier was a half-blood.

To her amusement and gratitude, another girl had scratched at the very bottom, Who cares?

Drew yanked the bar from the towel rack off and whacked the wall, cracking the tile with her name on it. Whoops. She replaced a towel to hide it from view. Hopefully the House-elves couldn't find out it was her.

When she'd pulled on her clothes, she stepped out and wrung her hair out next to Cyndee, who was using a spell to get tangles out.

"Are you okay?" Cyndee asked suddenly.

"Yes," Drew grabbed an unused Always-Bubbly Toothbrush and ran it over her teeth. "I was thinking about my boggart, among other things. Are you okay? I thought you were gonna sleep at the Hospital Wing forever."

"I'm okay." Cyndee seemed oddly annoyed that Drew even asked. "What was it? Your boggart?"

There was something both terribly creepy and relieving about Cyndee acting so mentally sound, that Drew decided it was best not to press it. "It was something that didn't make sense."

Cyndee made a hmm sound. "Less so than mine?"

"Well, no, but still strange." Drew rinsed her mouth, tossing the toothbrush behind her towards the bin.

Cyndee watched it fly away in the mirror. "Erm, you missed. Again."

Drew huffed. "What did I say about ignoring my failures?"

"Right," Cyndee nodded seriously, smirking. "I forgot."

The Bell Towers sounded ten o'clock, and Cyndee packed her things. "We should get back. Drew?"

"Yeah," Drew said, "but I'm going to go outside." Seeing Xavier's name earlier had given her an idea, though she was loath to act on it. "I want to talk to Xavier for a second."

"Oh. Alright."

Cyndee placed her hand on a stone in the wall that was more white and polished than the others, and a door slowly swung open to reveal a short hallway leading back to the common room.

Cyndee whispered goodnight as she headed to their room, and Drew readied herself for embarrassment as she slipped out the big common room door. Xavier and a fifth-year prefect should be coming out to do patrols any second.

Soon enough, they appeared. Drew had never bothered to learn the other prefect's name, and he returned the favour, but Xavier sure knew hers.

"Drew Getaway!" he half-shouted, mustering up his fiercest You Are In Trouble expression. "What-are-you-doing-brat-you're-supposed-to-be-inside!"

"Calm down," she rolled her eyes. "It's literally only two minutes past curfew, and I'm not stealing anything. I just have a teeny little ask."

Xavier pressed his fingers to his temples, evidently struck with another Drew Headache™. "Really? Now? I need to be doing patrols."

"Yes, I'm aware." Drew indicated for the other prefect to leave.

He had the nerve to indicate that he would not.

Xavier groaned with irritation. "You are such an annoying kid, Drew. Jack, just go. I'll catch up."

Jake threw his hands up and walked away.

Once Jace was out of earshot, Drew asked, "Did you do boggarts in DADA?"

He blinked, probably having braced for a question about the exact time that each office was left unguarded. "I know what they are but never fought them. The curriculum changes with every professor. What about them?"

She told him what hers had been. After all, pretty much all the Slytherins in her year knew about it, so why not another?

"But the thing is," she continued. "I don't think Wilby's ever going to be like that. Is it a subconscious thing?"

He turned thoughtful, and a thoughtful Xavier pondering the questions of the universe was a nicer one. "Here's the thing about boggarts. They can't take the physical form of concepts without getting creative. Like, what if your fear is responsibility? What could a boggart morph into?"

"A baby that cries too much?"

Xavier rolled his eyes. "Right, and it doesn't mean that you're afraid of crying babies. Where I'm going with this is that it might not be Wilby specifically. It could just be, you know, in general."

Drew's face must've revealed her doubt, because he went on, "This might not be about Wilby. Look, you don't trust people easily, right? That's been pretty obvious through all the years that I wish I didn't know you. Your boggart could be something like finding out you were wrong about the people you do end up trusting, and not being able to do anything about it. I heard you suffered a pretty big betrayal with Eliza Skull in your first year, too."

Drew muttered something that combined Eliza's name with a string of swear words.

Xavier's brows shot up. "What did you say?"

She coughed. "Nothing."

He looked ready to end the conversation. "Listen, I'm not an expert. And it doesn't matter, okay Drew? Stop thinking about it, or try talking to him. Fears aren't supposed to be rational — remember that. The complicated boggarts can drive people insane just as much as the Mirror of Erised can. Now go inside, you're supposed to be sleeping."

"Mirror of what?"

He glared, pointing at the wall. "Get. inside. hellion."

"Okay, jeez. Thanks for your help."

She spun away before he could reply, and went into the common room. Wilby had already gone to bed, but she decided she didn't need to talk to him. She could trust him, and there was no reason to confront a ridiculous thought.

* ° * ° *

Drew swore her cat was getting fat and lazy. It was eleven o'clock on Halloween, and she'd taken a platter full of food from the Feast. Jinx had mewled from her spot on the floor for half an hour until Drew threw her a chicken wing.

"If you wanted food you could've just come to me," Drew grumbled.

Sitting next to her, Wilby helped himself to a tiny tiramisu from the plate. "Yum."

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Blaise holding out his hand from the sofa across them.

"What?" Drew snapped at him. "I asked you earlier if you wanted cake and you said cake was undignified."

He made a gimme gesture.

There was only one cake left, so she threw the whole plate at him, and he screamed as the frosting smeared his robes.

"Drew Getaway!" Xavier roared, throwing a piece of parchment down. "Are you bloody serious!? CLEAN THAT UP!"

"Absolutely not. He asked for it."

"I did not!" Blaise shrieked, his voice two notes away from being as high as Xavier's. "DREW!"

"CLEAN IT!" Xavier screeched.

"Everyone shouts at me," Drew complained.

At that moment, Quentin came running into the common room, his friend Carolina following him.

Drew pointed at Xavier, "Quent, your boyfriend's going insane. Restrain him."

"No," Xavier growled, his voice suddenly under control, "this devil incarnate threw a plate of food —"

"Doesn't matter right now." Quentin's tone was frantic, and the Slytherins immediately quieted. "We all need to go to the Great Hall. Sirius Black is in the castle."

The students gasped, stumbling to their feet.

"You're not joking!" Xavier cried, anger morphing to worry.

"Afraid not," Quentin said grimly. "Caro, can you get the girls out of their rooms?"

Carolina Fernández, who Drew could say with full confidence was a prefect miles more useful than Gracelyn Montague, promptly rushed off.

Xavier and James (?) the other prefect hurried into the boy's dormitory.

"Sirius Black?" Drew demanded, swiftly picking up her cat. "Where was he seen? Anywhere near?"

Quentin took out his wand and fiddled with it nervously. "Far, actually — up in Gryffindor Tower. Still, he could be anywhere by now. The Headmaster wants everyone in the Great Hall while the staff search for him." He moved to the entrance. "Everyone gather here in a neat orderly fashion. We'll go once everyone's here."

Drew stood beside Wilby, Cyndee and a cleaned-up Blaise just behind them. Anxiously, she wondered if Aurora was okay. Ravenclaw Tower was the closest common room to the Gryffindors' after all.

In seconds, the prefects had all the students rounded up.

As they marched to a staircase, Drew asked Quentin, "Did anyone get hurt?"

"I don't know," he answered. "I hope not. All I know is that Black tried to get into Gryffindor Tower during dinner."

"Where's Professor Snape?" Malfoy piped up, sounding almost troubled. His bandaged arm carelessly swung back and forth as he walked.

Personally, Drew didn't care much for the Potions master, but the turnip was right. Snape was someone she thought would be around in a dangerous time like this.

"He's finding Black with the other teachers," Quentin replied.

"And stop asking questions," Xavier added, who she noticed was tightly holding Quentin's hand.

"Sirius Black broke in during dinner?" Drew whispered to Wilby. "Maybe he was searching for something."

"Or he wanted to lurk inside and ambush the students," he pointed out.

"Oh," she said, shifting her grip on Jinx. "Didn't think of that." She couldn't help thinking back to her boggart, for the first time in weeks. Wilby could be so intelligent sometimes, and she was sure that he knew she was hiding something from him.

They reached the Great Hall, where everyone but the Ravenclaws had arrived and set up camp. The chairs and tables in the Great Hall had been pushed up against the wall, with two hundred or so sleeping bags scattered around the floor.

The four friends took one each and dragged them to a corner. By this time the Ravenclaws had come in, and Drew waved at her sister, who gratefully waved back.

The Gryffindors told everyone what had happened. Sirius Black had tried to break into their common room, but failed, so he slashed up a fat lady.

Okay...

Drew settled herself into a sleeping bag and propped herself up on her elbows with Jinx between them, excited about the latest crazy Hogwarts event. "How do you think he snuck in? Dark Magic?"

"I don't know," Blaise sighed, "Hogwarts is supposedly safer than Gringotts. You can't Apparate in or out, and of course, there's the Dementors guarding every entrance."

"Sirius Black isn't a Death Eater?"

Blaise groaned, "I've told you this. No, he is not. He's a murderer and a traitor, and that's it. The Daily Prophet said that he never had a Dark Mark."

Drew frowned. "Yes, he wasn't officially one, but he was working for You-Know-Who. He must've helped Black get in. That must be the answer."

Cyndee's eyes widened with dismay, "You think You-Know-Who is back? But that's impossible. Harry Potter killed him as a baby. We've all heard the story. Sure, there are rumours, but there's absolutely no proof and they don't mean anything."

"Well, why not?" Drew stared. "It didn't sound very far-fetched to me. Really, the Philosopher's Stone, Slytherin's Monster, and now Sirius Black breaking out of the most secure prison in the world? And unless every Hogwarts year is like this, then something big must be happening."

"That's because you're Muggle-born," Blaise said. "And I don't mean that in a bad way this time. I guess you're thinking this because you're used to books and movies where the bad guy isn't actually dead, because to you he's just some cool story you've heard about. You-Know-Who simply doesn't seem as fearsome to you, since you didn't grow up hearing about him or visiting the graves of people he and his followers killed."

"Calling him You-Know-Who used to sound so stupid," Drew muttered.

"He's done terrible things, so of course we're afraid to say his name. Is there anyone like You-Know-Who in the Muggle world? No."

"Well, if you live in America —"

"I don't think you're taking this seriously," Blaise interrupted. "Black is a mass-murderer who worked for a sadistic fanatic. And he's in this castle with us."

Wilby began to look nervous, and Drew decided to stop being annoying.

"Are we safe here?" Cyndee asked quietly.

"Of course," Wilby assured her. "Look at all the professors and prefects protecting us."

"Plus," Blaise added, "Black went out of his way to go to Gryffindor Tower, the furthest common room. That means it's them he's after, not us."

Drew rolled her eyes. "You dimwad, Cyndee has a cousin in Gryffindor." Cyndee only talked about Morfinus Labrinth in passing and in unnaturally neutral terms, but Drew would sometimes see him hanging out with that prefect she forgot the name of.

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted over their argument. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

She stared fiercely at Wilby. "If you die tonight before your fourteenth birthday, I'll kill you." With that, she closed her eyes, wrapping her warm and poofy cat in her arms and listening to Wilby softly hum a pop song.

When the Bell Towers announced midnight, all was quiet except for the pacing of prefects. As much as she'd tried, she still hadn't fallen asleep. Apparently, neither had Wilby, because when she whispered "happy birthday" to his seemingly sleeping face, his lips had turned up with a delighted smile.