An update for you. Hope you enjoy it! Thanks to all the people who have reviewed so far xx

Over the next few weeks at Hogwarts, things got both better and worse for Adrianna in almost equal measures. On the positive side, the Gryfinndors started to warm to her. News of her transfiguration of Draco onto a snapdragon spread like salamander-fire around the school. The students that had witnessed it were urged by students in the other houses and years to repeat the tale so many times that they began to feel like celebrities. In fact, Seamus Finnegan did such a good impersonation of Snape when confronted with a petal-spitting Draco that people actually started paying him in sickles just to see it. The tale seemed to get wilder and wilder with every telling. One version (which was Adrianna’s favourite) even had her transfiguring Snape into a cockroach, with the Snap-dragon Draco eating him in one fatal gulp. Of course that theory was blown somewhat when Snape turned up large as life at dinner to sighs of disappointment from the majority of students who hated making the regular trips to the dungeons almost as much as Harry and Adrianna did. With Fred and George’s Skiving Snackboxes already making a name for the Gryfinndors, and now Adrianna’s exploits, the house started to become the most talked about by the students. Some of the first years from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff even begged to trade scarves with the first years from Gryfinndor – something unheard of in previous years.

The Slytherins of course, were less than impressed with Adrianna. The story got round that she had been defending the Weasley’s - so-called ‘blood traitors’. It seemed that the high hopes they’d had for the daughter of the notorious killer Victoria Malfoy had been thoroughly disappointed. Not that this bothered Adrianna a jot. She was used to unpleasant whispers and silent glares, and she felt quite privileged to be getting them from the students in her now least favourite house.

The other good thing for Adrianna was Quidditch. She stilled missed Beaubaxtons, but even she had to admit that their training ground paled into insignificance next to the facilities at Hogwarts. Her early-morning flights, begun as a way to avoid the hostility of the other students, were now part of her daily routine. She had also made firm friends with Fred and George who accompanied her on her flights every day. She had a sneaking suspicion that part of the reason they did this was to look after their own interests as Gryfinndor beaters, particularly with the Quidditch trails drawing ever nearer, but she was nevertheless grateful for their friendship and she found hanging around with them a lot of fun. They had picked her brains for ideas for their skiving snackboxes, and she had helped them come up with the latest invention – a hand shaped gummi sweet which made the eater shrink to the size of a thumb for an hour - aptly renamed Thummi Bears. They weren’t sure exactly what they were going to market it for yet, but they found it clever nonetheless.

‘You don’t half make it look easy,’ Fred had complained one morning when Adrianna had managed to correct three days of George and his careful work with one swoosh of her wand - making the thummi bear finally ready for sale.

‘Yeah, Adrianna,’ George had repeated. ‘Just one swish of your wand and …’

‘… Excalibur’s your Uncle’ finished Fred. ‘Do you fancy having a look at my potions homework as well? Snape’s going to boil me in his cauldron for sure when he sees it.’

George had guffawed at that, but Adrianna shuddered.

‘I’ve told you not to mention his name,’ she said, jabbing the ground so violently with her wand that purple sparks shot out of the end.

‘Still giving you a hard time is he?’ Fred grinned. ‘Well you will go turning your relatives into plants.’

“Giving her a hard time” was an understatement. Just as everything was starting to go well for Adrianna elsewhere, her encounters with Snape put a storm cloud right over her head. She began to dread trips to the dungeons every other day with almost as much despair as she did returning to Malfoy Manor in the Christmas holidays. Even on the days she didn’t have detention, she couldn’t relax knowing that she would again the next day. What was worse was that there did not appear to be any end to it. All she could see was night after night with Snape stretching out over the whole term. Not to mention thrice-weekly potions lessons as well.

Before she had gone to detention she had questioned the others about it.

‘He’ll probably make you scrub stuff,’ Harry had cautioned. ‘Probably cauldron slime or stinksap or something. Hermione gave me a spell to stop my fingernails falling off. I’ll cast it on you before you go if you like?’

Harry had been pleased to be able to offer Adrianna something. He still felt guilty about being so suspicious of her in her first few days at Hogwarts. Both he and Ron had decided that it was time to give her a chance. After all, Harry had reasoned with Ron, Sirius and Tonks were not typical Blacks so it was possible that Adrianna was not a typical Malfoy. She and Hermione had also become firm friends. It was nice for Hermione because it meant she had someone to walk to breakfast with and whisper to after lights out, something that she realised she had missed even with Ron and Harry as her best friends.

So armed with Hermione’s spell and a feeling of satisfaction that everything seemed to be going right for a change, Adrianna had descended the staircase to the dungeon quite prepared for whatever horrible task Snape would allocate her.

However, when she got there, Snape simply motioned her to a desk near the front. She looked around for dirty cauldrons or poisonous roots to cut (another favourite according to Harry), or even an infestation of doxies to eliminate from the Slytherin trophy cabinet, but there was no evidence of anything Snape might want her to do.

‘Take your seat, Miss Malfoy,’ he had said coolly.

Adrianna had taken her seat, and after that there was a long pause while Snape sat in silent contemplation, fingertips pressed together.

Adrianna had begun to feel uncomfortable, stretching her fingers out one by one, and searching the room for something other than Snape’s composed, unreadable face and black marble eyes, to fix her gaze upon. She had suddenly had become aware of how cold the dungeon really was and goose bumps raised on her arms underneath her robes. It was as though the fallen rain water that seeped from the surface through the densely packed earth could be felt within the walls of the dungeon, encirling the room in icy rivers. The aura was oppressive. Adrianna was sensitive to moods and feelings – perhaps because she had always had to be so in tune with the tempers of her Aunt and Uncle. She seemed able now to feel the presence of something out of tune with the rest of the castle. Perhaps, she thought, creatures that inhabited the underground cavities, preferring the dark and desolate the to the green and lush ground of Hogwarts. It was strange to think that she might not be completely alone with Snape - that eyes might be peering through the cracks in the ancient stone walls - and she shuddered again.

Snape seemed to sense her discomfort.

‘Eyes forward,’ he commanded. After a few minutes of further silence, he spoke again in silky tones, his tongue rolling the words around as though he was savouring the taste before he spoke them.

‘I would have thought, Miss Malfoy, that you would feel quite at home in my classroom. I understand that you spend a lot of your time at home in similar surroundings.’

She knew that he was referring to the cellar at Malfoy Manor. She wondered if he had deduced from the meeting between her and Lucius that being shut in the cellar was the thing she loathed most in the world; to be so deep under the ground with the exit sealed shut. It was in those desperate hours with no company but her own to keep that she felt her loneliness most. The image of Victoria Malfoy breaching the ministry and murdering innocents often played out in front of her like a Quidditch match through omnoculars; a scene that she could pause and rewind to her hearts’ content. It was odd because though she had never even seen a picture of her mother - Lucius had had all the portraits of her removed long before she was old enough to remember them – she could see her clearly nonetheless. In the visions and in her dreams she had the same blue eyes and pale skin that the Malfoy’s did, but she had a thick head of dark hair that would somehow never lay flat and a pink lopsided grin that spelled mischief to Adrianna, not insanity. Adrianna didn’t know why her mother appeared like this to her because the Malfoy’s traditionally had hair as light as the morning sunshine, but nonetheless that was how she remembered her. Adrianna herself did not have the traditional look of a Malfoy with her inky eyes and olive skin, and she supposed that they must have come from her father’s side, though she had never even heard his name spoken much less seen a picture.

She now turned her dark, defiant eyes on Snape.

‘I am very much at home, thank-you Sir,’ she said, forcing herself to lean back more comfortably in her chair, and placing her hands at rest one on top of the other.

Snape raised his eyebrow but made no response. Drawing his wand from his pocket he summoned a green candle, seemingly from thin air, positioning it on the desk in front of him. Immediately all other light left the dungeon. Adrianna felt her eyes drawn to the flickering emerald light. A look of panic must have crossed her face because Snape’s thin lips pulled into a satisfied smirk. He got to his feet.

‘You will sit there, exactly as you are, till I return,’ he had said before turning on his heel and leaving the room, a click signalling that he had locked the door firmly behind him.

Adrianna knew the candle was bewitched even before the gust of wind from the banging door did not extinguish it. The seemingly innocent light was a focuson. It wasn’t a powerful charm but for Adrianna it had always been an unpleasant one. The premise of it was simple. It focused the mind on whatever was the uppermost thought in a person’s mind at a particular time. It was often used by students frantically revising for OWLS and NEWTS as an accompaniment to their studies, or by wizards and witches who were in the middle of solving some magical problem or other. Adrianna supposed that Snape used it when he was in the process of developing a new potion.

For Adrianna, though, it might as well be a weapon of torture. The thought it always brought her back to without variation was her mother and father. To leave her in a dark dungeon with only the focuson for light meant that it’s charm would be all the more powerful. It’s magic seemed to have a more powerful effect on Adrianna than it would on most. Though she might find wand magic, such as transfiguration and charms, easy she had never been able to master magic which involved tuning out feelings or emotions. Occlumency was something that she had read extensively on in the long hours in the Malfoy library but it had never been something that she had been able to master. Her feelings, whatever they were, always bubbled too close to the surface to be concealed. It was this that often got her into trouble because it made her blurt out whatever was on her mind. It was also this that made her susceptible to the focuson whereas someone like Snape would easily be able to overcome the carm,

In any case it was going to feel like a very long time until Snape returned.

By the time Snape returned, Adrianna was feeling as drained as if she had scrubbed out twenty cauldrons, petrified two hundred doxies and juiced two thousand poison ivy berries. The foucson had conjured up unpleasant thought after unpleasant thought. Just when she had fought to get the image of her mother out of her mind, it would switch to her Uncle Lucius and the anger she would face when she finally saw him again. When she managed to force that from her mind, it would switch again to her mother - this time playing out the moment when she breached the ministry and killed the aurors. And so it went on, round and round for what felt like hours and no matter how hard Adrianna tried to pull her eyes away from the small beam of light, they were forced back.

Snape snapped his fingers sharply and the candle extinguished to be replaced by the dank amber light of the torches which usually lit the dungeon. Adrianna’s shoulders slumped. She realised that she had been holding her body tense for the entire time.

She got to her feet.

‘I have not dismissed you,’ Snape said sharply. He crossed the room and stood in front of her desk. He paused for a moment and Adrianna had to resist the urge to shout at him in exasperation. All she wanted to do was to leave the dungeon and the thoughts she had been forced to endure behind.

‘Look at me,’ Snape said.

Adrianna lifted her head slightly, too weak to argue and met the black, icy gaze. As she did so, she was surprised to see something close to what she could only describe as surprise pass through the irises. It was gone as quickly as it came, but when Snape spoke his tone was smoother than usual.

‘It seems, Miss Malfoy, that I underestimated your susceptibility to the focuson. Perhaps your magic is not as strong as your other Professors would have me believe. The intent was for you to focus on the outrageous behaviour that you have so far exhibited in your short stay at Hogwarts, and not on other self-indulgent fancies of your heritage.

The words stung Adrianna like a whip. She felt the temper flare within her once again. She wanted to scream at him, to inform him that the memories she had been forced to endure could hardly be described as self-indulgent fancies. To let him know that the last few hours alone in the cellar had pushed her to the edge of her endurance, but she would not give him the satisfaction.

He produced a vial from deep inside the pocket of his robes, holding it out for Adrianna.

‘Drink this,’ he commanded. Adrianna eyed the vial suspiciously, refusing to accept it. ‘I told you to drink it,’ he said, ‘you would be wise not to try my patience.’

Again, exhaustion made Adrianna obey. As she drunk the warm red liquid she was surprised to feel her body relax and her mind clear. The slight shake in her limbs steadied and she felt almost as content as she had when she had descended the staircase to the dungeons.

‘A revival draft?’ she said, more to herself than to Snape. ‘But with a heavier dose of something … poppy leaves?’

‘Very good, Miss Malfoy,’ Snape drawled. ‘If only you were as careful with your attitude as you were diligent in reading your text-books then perhaps you wouldn’t keep letting yourself down.’

Actually Adrianna hadn’t even been able to bring herself to open her textbooks; like transfiguration, she simply had a good head when it came to potions. However, she didn’t think now was quite the time to contradict Snape.

‘I suggest that you take yourself back to your dormitory and immediately to bed,’ Snape said dismissively. ‘There will be no lasting effects. I would also try practicing your mind-resistance techniques. Your sentiment is as fragile as a small child’s. If you are to accomplish anything as a witch then you must learn not to let your emotions interfere with your defences.’

The next time Adrianna had returned to the dungeon, Snape had reduced the potency of the focuson though it still affected her more than she cared to admit. Rather than feeling grateful for this, however, she felt humiliated. Not only did it suggest weakness on her part, but when the charm had been stronger she had felt more like she was doing battle with Snape – now she just felt like a disobedient child.

It was this, then, that marred her time at Hogwarts.

Adrianna did not share her punishment with the others. She felt that they would think her foolish to become so upset over a foucson. It was only Fred who seemed to sense how unhappy she was.

‘I thought things were working out better for you,’ he said one day when they were resting on the grass after a particularly vicious training session.

‘They are,’ she said surprised.

‘You could have fooled me. Your game’s all over the place, and I don’t think you’ve smiled once since we sat down, and I was giving you my best material.’

Adrianna smiled wryly. Fred had been telling her jokes for the last five minutes. ‘Maybe you need to update it a bit,’ she said.

Fred wasn’t satisfied. ‘It’s Snape isn’t it?’ he said. ‘The git. You went last night didn’t you?’

‘Just forget it,’ Adrianna said more defensively, trying to shake the cold, clammy feeling that had remained with her since the detention the night before and brighten her face for Fred. ‘I’m just nervous that’s all – it is the Quidditch trials tomorrow.’

Fred was not fully satisfied by this explanation but decided not to push it. ‘I don’t believe it,’ he said. ‘You’re not the type to get nervous – particularly the way you’re flying at the moment.’ He gestured high above them where George was feverishly practicing spins and curls whilst trying to negotiate an angry bludger. ‘It’s him that’s the nervous one. I’ve never seen him in such a state. Quite rightly too. I think you’re going to shock one of us tomorrow.’

Adrianna looked at Fred closely. His green eyes were twinkling and his face was bright as he reclined on the grass next to her in an easy posture. It didn’t seem like he was too concerned.

‘But of course, it won’t be you,’ she said sarcastically, mistaking the look for cocksureness. ‘I couldn’t possibly shock the fantabulous Fred.’

Fred shrugged, his pale brown eyes searching hers. ‘Quidditch isn’t everything,’ he said bluntly. He leant further towards her so that their arms brushed. ‘Don’t tell George I said that though.’ He rested his hand by her knee absentmindedly as he added seriously, ‘If you do get through, whether I lose my place or not, I’ll be happy for you.’

Adrianna suddenly understood and smiled back genuinely.

‘Me too.’

She hoped that she meant it.