The common room was, for Mozzie, more familiar than her own home. Which was fine by her, because at least in the Ravenclaw Common Room, she was free of her brothers. The younger was a Gryffindor and the youngest not yet starting school. Finally she found herself free of her older brothers, who thought it was fun to call her Motzie or Motzerella. (Though, Nolan had a habit of calling her Motzie, but she allowed him and only him to do that.)

She sat curled up in one of the blue plush arm chairs, watching the new firsties walk around, the awe evident in their wide shining eyes. She laughed quietly, remembering when she was one of them. Ah, such a carefree life. They hardly seemed scared, either, even with people so much bigger than them around (not that Mozzie was one of them, being short as she was.)

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How Nolan ever got to be Prefect, he didn't know. He really didn't know, and the Headmistress refused to give him explanation. It's something you need to figure out on your own. He hated that answer. Still, despite his lack of social graces and his "enigmatic, brooding boy" exterior, as Mozzie described it, he didn't mind the role. The Prefects bathroom was nice, and it was nice to steal away to the Prefects Common Room for a nap (Mozzie made it hard to get sleep.)

"And there are the dorms," he said, pointing them out. "Girls to the left, boys to the right."

Pulling his arm down, he leant back against the wall, smiling carefully, reserved, at the milling firsties. They seemed so... naive. It was hard to imagine ever being like that.

It was nice, this kind of lifestyle, he had to admit.

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The dungeons were, in their own way, one of Salinea's favorite places to be. Something about the dark thrilled her in a way nothing else could. People hardly could, she could care less for most of them. Still. The secret built within her, swelling and pressing. Few knew, and this thrilled her. Thrilled. Rippled through her body. A coy, dangerous smile curled on her lips.

Darkness. The Darkness would be growing.