Winter's Flame

As much as Draco hated to admit it, Hogwarts was like a second home. He and Carlos had their own room, free of the burping and farting of their ever-charming fellow sixth years. He had a group of… well, he wouldn't exactly call them friends, but acquaintances, which was near enough. He usually looked forward to returning to school, where he could rejoin the group of students whom he used to enjoy being the boss of.
But this year, he felt a certain reluctance. He knew the source of it, of course. He didn't want to go to a school where everybody knew that his father was in jail and where everybody knew that his mother had led a raid on Azkaban, freeing all the evil wizards and witches that most of the students had grown up hearing horror stories about. And he didn't want to go to a school where he knew that he would have to sneak out somewhere once a month without anybody getting suspicious.
"You alright?" Lupin poked his head inside the door of Draco's room.
Draco nodded mutely.
"Nervous?" Lupin asked sympathetically.
Draco nodded again.
His guardian entered the room for the first time, bar when he barged in as a werewolf, as evidenced by the scratches on the somewhat repaired door and sat down on the bed beside Draco. "It wont be as bad as you think," he said reassuringly. "Nobody suspected you when you were in Diagon Alley, so nobody will suspect you at school. You remember how to get inside the Shrieking Shack?"
"I go to Professor Snape the day before," Draco recited dully. "And he'll give me an invisibility cloak and the Wolfsbane potion. Then I go to that big tree thing and tap the knob and go inside."
"With?" Lupin prompted.
"With the teacher appointed to baby-sit me," he muttered darkly. "I don't see why I have to be supervised. You weren't."
"That's because I would have eaten anybody who supervised me," he said dryly. "It's mainly so that the teacher can keep anybody out who may be spying."
"And who would do that?"
Lupin rolled his eyes. "You never know with teenagers. Now, I want you to get a good nights sleep."
"You're telling me to go to bed?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "You gonna tuck me in, too?"
Lupin grinned. "Do you want me to?"
Draco cracked a smile and shook his head. "I think I'll be right." He pulled his shirt over his head and slid under the covers. Remus said goodnight and rose, pausing at the door to flick off the light.
"Lupin," Draco said just before his guardian left.
"Remus," he corrected, surveying his charge with his warm eyes.
"Well… Remus, then," Draco said. "Just out of curiosity. Why was Potter so angsty at Diagon the other day?"
"It's been a bad year," Remus said, slightly on his guard. "And angsty isn't a word."
"Is it because of that Black bloke?" Draco ignored him. "My father told me about him. He was Potter's godfather, wasn't he?"
"He was," Remus nodded.
Draco frowned. "Did you know him?"
"I went to school with him. He and Harry's father were best friends. Practically inseparable." He smiled fondly. "Always in detention together."
"Were you friends with him?"
Remus' smile vanished, and shutters seemed to be drawn over those friendly eyes.
"Goodnight, Draco," he said finally, closing the door behind him.

The rain was hammering down on Malfoy Manor with such force that Draco was wondering whether it was safe to run the few feet from the front door to the shiny silver Lexus parked outside.
"Malfoy's certainly know how to travel in style," Remus observed from beside him as they gazed at the barely visible car through the fog. "Ready to go?"
"It's wet," Draco said forlornly.
"That's usually a by-product of rain, yes." Remus smiled.
"Funny," he half smiled. "I'm going to get soaked."
Remus pulled out his wand and tapped himself and Draco on the shoulder with it. "Impervius."
Draco blinked. "What the hell did that do?"
Remus ignored him and picked up his trunk, pushing him out of the door towards the car. Draco ran for it and slid inside while Remus put the trunk in the boot of the car and then climbed in after him. Much to Draco's amazement, they were both bone dry.
"Nice." He ran a hand through his still dry and fluffy hair.
"I rather thought so. Let's go, shall we?"
"Jacques," Draco called. "Move 'em on out!"
Remus gave him a funny look.
"I always wanted to say that." He shrugged.

It took quite a while to navigate the streets of London in the pouring rain, but Jacques' superior navigator skills eventually saw them through the mess of houses and shopping centres to Kings Cross Station.
"Wait here for Remus," Draco said as he climbed out. "See you at Christmas."
"Goodbye, Mister Draco." Jacques tipped his head. "Have a good term."
Remus pulled Draco's trunk from the back of the car and wheeled it through the station until they reached the column between platforms nine and ten. They paused in front of it, looking at each other awkwardly.
"Would you like me to come in with you?" Remus asked.
Draco shook his head. "Nah. People'll think we're chummy."
Remus smiled. "Well… the important teachers have been informed. You know what to do, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Good." Remus patted him quickly on the shoulder. "You… you have a good term. And owl me. If you need anything, that is. Or…"
"Yeah," Draco nodded. "Yeah, I'll do that. Um. I guess I'll see you at Christmas, then. Won't I?"
"I'll be there." Remus smiled faintly. "We'll have a big two man party. Howl up a storm."
"Sound's exciting." Draco laughed, then abruptly stopped as he caught sight of Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. "Well, goodbye then."
Remus smiled again, then turned and began to walk away.
"Hey, it's Professor Lupin!" Draco heard Dean exclaim as he grasped hold of his trunk and prepared to fling himself through the brick column. He checked quickly to make sure that no Muggles were watching, then ran straight towards it, coming out on the other side to platform nine and three quarters. He wheeled his trunk over to where the luggage was being loaded onto the train, then wandered over to a bench and sat down. He was half an hour early, and had no desire to confine himself to the tiny compartments just yet.
"Malfoy!" a loud, harsh voice cried right beside his ear. Draco cringed and turned around, looking at the offending person with mute disdain. "Hello Crabbe," he murmured. "Enjoy the holiday? Learn anything new? No? Didn't think so."
Crabbe chuckled. He seemed to have risen to all new muscular heights over the summer break. He was bigger than a pro-wrestler on super steroids. Another vast human mountain joined them, a hamburger in his massive fist. "Malfoy," he grinned. "Haven't seen ya all holidays!"
"Tragic, I know." He raised his eyebrows slightly. "Crabbe and I were just discussing all the exciting things he learnt over the break."
Goyle frowned. "But youse weren't talking."
"Yes," Draco sighed. "I know."
Crabbe squinted his eyes and leaned forwards, his face inches from Draco's own.
Draco wrinkled his nose and leaned backwards, pushing Crabbe away with one hand. "Personal space, Crabbe," he said. "Look into it."

"What'd you do to your eyes?" he asked. "And your hair? You look different."
"Better, I'd say," Carlos appeared at precisely the right moment. Draco had to smother a grin as he realised that his Italian friend's eyes had changed from chocolate brown to a brilliant blue. "He's gone from pretty boy to a kind of rebel cant-be-bothered look."
"I was never pretty," Draco muttered.
"You were pretty."
Goyle chuckled. "Pretty. Like a girl."
"You wouldn't know what a girl looks like, Goyle." Draco leaned back and closed his golden eyes. "They scream and run away before you can focus."
Carlos and Crabbe sniggered. Draco didn't open his eyes. Eventually, Carlos fell silent and Crabbe and Goyle started jabbering away about some Hufflepuff girl.
"They look good," Draco said after a while, not bothering to move.
"Thanks," Carlos said.
"Look," Crabbe suddenly grunted and nudged Draco.
Draco opened his eyes and glanced in the direction his burley bodyguard had pointed. Potter, Weasley and Granger were walking towards them. Granger was chatting enthusiastically to Ron, who seemed to be actively ignoring her. Potter was trailing along after them, his hands in his pockets and in a kind of daze.
"Check out Weasel's pants," Carlos laughed. The hems were about five centimetres above his ankles.
"Gee, Weasley," Draco drawled as soon as they were within earshot. "And I always thought you could at least afford a pair of jeans."
Weasley's blue eyes narrowed.
"I wonder who'll get Gryffindor Quidditch Captain this year," he continued. "Let's see. Johnson, Spinnet and the other Weasley's have all upped and left, so it's a choice out of Potty the Pothead Potter, Katie Bell of the one eyebrow, or Weasel King Weasley who, incidentally, is probably the worst Keeper I've ever had the pleasure of watching. Then again, with Potty having been on the team a few years more than Weasel and Bell having absolutely no leadership skills, my bet's resting on him." Draco smiled. "So that makes it a grand choice between you, you and… you. Feel special, Potty?"
"At least they didn't have to buy their way in," Granger snapped.
"Yes, Granger, we've heard that line." He rolled his eyes. "And, for the record, my father bought those after I'd been chosen to join the team. I thought you were supposed to be good at research?"
"You really think I'd want to research anything to do with you?" She arched an eyebrow.
Draco smiled. "Don't think I don't know, Granger," he murmured dangerously.
"Know what?" she scoffed.
"I have my sources. I know all about you, my dear little Mudblood."
"Oh Draco," Carlos suddenly piped up in a perfect imitation of Granger's voice. "Oh Draco, no, we mustn't! Oh… oh, Draco!"
He saw the faintest flicker of alarm within her eyes, though her face didn't show it. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Come on Hermione," Potter nudged her forward. "Ignore him."
"Being noble Potter?" Draco asked. "That's unusual, isn't it."
Potter continued to ignore him and pushed Granger on before him. Weasley followed, glaring at them over his shoulder.
"Sweet dreams, Granger," Draco called, and for one satisfying moment, he thought he saw her cheeks redden.

"Draco, darling." A bright eyed beauty with chestnut curls slid gracefully into the cabin and kissed him on the cheek. "I feel like I haven't seen you in years."
"Three months without you is like an eternity, Maria." He smiled lazily, pulling one of her corkscrew curls and letting it bounce back. "I see you've jumped on the bandwagon."
Maria smiled, her once-brown eyes now an emerald green. "I couldn't let you and Carlos have all the attention, now could I?" she sat herself down between him and her brother just as the trains whistle blew and it began to move. Platform nine and three quarters slowly slid out of view and they emerged into the drizzly English countryside.
"God, it's absolutely pouring, isn't it?" Maria sighed. "And they say it's supposed to be Summer. Some Summer. I don't think the sun shone once."
"Maybe we suddenly slid into the southern Hemisphere and we're currently residing off the coast of Australia?" Carlos suggested.
"I'd rather live off the coast of Africa, personally," his sister disagreed. "I always wanted a pet zebra."
"As opposed to that horrid little cat of yours?" Draco asked.
"You leave Scarlett alone," Maria defended her cat. "She's an absolute darling."
Carlos grinned at Draco. "And where is the aforementioned little darling? Strangling innocent Hufflepuffs?"
"I've never met a Hufflepuff who didn't deserve to be strangled," Draco said mildly.
"She's with Crabbe," Maria shrugged. "Absolutely loves him. Always has done, really."
"Probably his wonderful way with women," Carlos suggested.
"As opposed to your way with women?" Maria asked. "Which is, if I remember correctly, to sift through every spell book available to find a gender reversing spell?"
Draco chuckled, then glanced down at his watch. "I should go to the Prefect's meeting," he said, standing up. "I'll leave you two siblings to your squabble."
"Thankyou darling," they said in unison, their perfectly structured Italian faced beaming up at him impishly.

The prefects meeting was long and painfully dull. It was, essentially, an hour and a half straight of glaring at Weasley, ignoring Pansy's muttered complaints and half listening to the rules set by Professor's McGonagall, Snape, Sprout and Flitwick, the four heads of house. When it finally ended, Draco pulled himself up and wandered back towards the his cabin, pausing outside one when he heard loud, raucous singing and laughter.

Yay hey hey, there's an ale for me,
And a lusty barmaid, wait and see;
For though I've worked me arse to bone,
Still I'll not sleep on me own!
I pity the man with his vengeful wife
And he who be in constant strife,
But me I say ignore the spouse
And play the part of the cheating louse!

Draco peered through the glass to see the sandy blonde Seamus Finnigan singing loudly to the laughter of Dean Thomas, the Patil twins and Taylor McAngus, the little Scot from Diagon Alley. Taylor threw a scrunched up piece of paper at him as he bowed and sat down. "You bloody Irish," she laughed. "Trust you!"
"Well have you got any Scottish crap for me, then?" he asked with a grin. "Or d'you want me to sing you some more?"
Taylor shook her head. "Aye, sing again. I know aught of drinking songs." She winked at him. "I'm a good girl, me."
"Bet you are," Dean chuckled. "Look at the length of your skirt."
"Don't complain, Thomas!" Seamus nudged him. "She'll take it longer then."
"It's no shorter than mine," Pavarti pointed out with a smile.
Seamus grinned. "And I haven't complained once."
Pavarti's somewhat more sensible twin, Padma, rolled her eyes with a slight smile.
"It's for easier mobility, isn't it Pav?" Taylor asked her.
Pavarti nodded firmly. "Exactly. So, where's the next song?"
Seamus stood again dramatically. "Well I forget most of this one," he admitted. "It's got seven verses, but only five are allowed to be sung, and I forget four of them."
"That's handy," Dean laughed to the girls.
"…So here we go…"

As I went home on a Friday night
As drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed
Where my own head should be
So I calls me wife and I says to her
Would you tell to me
Who owns that head upon the bed
And this she said to me:
"Ah, yer drunk, yer drunk,
Yer silly old fool,
You simply canna see!
'Tis a baby boy that
Me mother sent to me."
Well I've travelled many a day and night,
A hundred miles or more! But a…

"A… um…" Seamus stopped. "I think I've completely mixed up the words, actually."
"You're bloody talented, aren't ya?" Taylor giggled, then paused when she caught sight of Draco leaning against the window. She waved at him with a grin. As he nodded to her, he saw Pavarti straighten up and smooth her hair.
"What're you doing there, Malfoy?" Seamus asked in a voice flooded with distrust.
"Admiring the scenery," he shrugged.
"The shutter's are closed, Draco," Taylor pointed out innocently. "What on earth could you be looking at?"
He ignored Pavarti who was looking at him from under lowered eyelids and not so very subtly inching her skirt up even higher. He couldn't deny that both she and her sister were really quite pretty, but they were Gryffindor's after all. And, from what he had heard, Mudbloods. There was a line, and they were across it and down the corner.
"Not perving on a future Gryffindor, Malfoy?" Dean asked.
"Who says I'll be a lion, then?" Taylor asked. "Might end up in Hufflepuff."
Padma looked up. "Or Ravenclaw."
"You never know," Pavarti chipped in. "She might even be in Slytherin with Draco."
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Shouldn't you be off kicking the first years?" Seamus asked him pointedly.
"I don't kick," Draco said, pushing himself off the wall. "But as it happens, I do have somewhere to be. Somewhere that isn't contaminated with Mudbloods and schizoid Irish cousins."
"You two are cousins?" Pavarti asked a little breathlessly.
"Unfortunately," they both said at the same time, shooting a quick glare at each other immediately afterwards. He nodded to Taylor again as he left and headed back to Carlos and Maria's cabin, blowing a kiss to Hermione as she passed him on patrol. She rolled her eyes and studiously ignored him as he slid back into his cabin with a low chuckle.

The whispering had started as soon as Draco had stepped off the train. First years through to seventh years, members of the other three houses. They pointed, they nudged each other, whispering and staring at him as if he had some horrible contagious disease.
"Ignore them," Maria placed a hand on his forearm as he tensed up. He took a deep breath to calm himself as Crabbe picked up a struggling second year from Gryffindor and threw him out of the way. His little friends scattered, staring at them with wide eyes as the group of Slytherin's climbed into the carriage that the little tykes had been trying to occupy.
"I hate Gryffindors," he muttered.
Carlos smiled across at him. "Don't we all?"
"Would this stupid thing move already?" Maria complained. "I'm really quite cold."
"We've got room for one more," Carlos pointed out. "I think it's waiting for us to fill up."
"So grab somebody," Draco said, shivering slightly. "And close the door."
Goyle stuck his head outside. "Uh, there's Pansy and Blaise… and I think that's Natassja over there."
"Oh God, here we go," he sighed. "Pure idiot, pure horny or pure bloody evil. Get Tash in here."
"Tasha!" Goyle bellowed. "C'mere!"
Carlos rolled his eyes. "Yell louder, Greg, I don't think the German's quite heard you."
"What the fuck do you want, Goyle?" a sharp voice asked from outside. "I'm freezing my arse off so make it quick."
"Get in," he replied.
"Real charmer, that one," Carlos remarked dryly to his sister.
"What? Don't you fucking order me around, Goyle, you ugly piece of shit! I'm not your God damn slave, you know?"
Draco scowled and pulled himself off the seat, shoving Goyle's head out of the way.
"Natassja, could you please come inside so that we can shut the door and get warm?"
"Am I supposed to jump just because you tell me to, Malfoy?" she sneered.
Draco glared at her. "Tash, get in the carriage or I'll get out and throw you inside."
She raised one black eyebrow. "What'd you do to your eyes?"
"Tash!"
"Alright," she shook her head and climbed inside, squeezing in between Crabbe and Goyle. Natassja Kingdon was the bane of the Slytherin girls who tried hard to look powerful and sophisticated. They spent half of their parents money on looking fantastic, whereas Tash cut her hair herself. It was short and spiky, jet black but for a single shock of lime green that fell down over her grey eyes. She was pale to the point of looking sickly and she had the foulest mouth Draco had ever heard on a female. But for all that, she was highly intelligent, more cunning than a cat who's just drunk an entire crate of Marlon's Crazy Cunning Cranberry Sauce and almost as evil as Professor McGonagall. Which, in Draco's opinion, was pretty damn dangerous. She had a deep hatred of Muggles, Dumbledore, Gryffindors and squirrels and had elaborate plans on how to do away with all four.
The carriage arrived at the castle within minutes. Draco and the Hart twins slid out gracefully, smoothing down their robes, whilst the remaining three clambered out looking about as graceful as a swan with a broken wing and a gimpy leg. They were promptly joined by Blaise Zabini, who immediately attached herself to Draco's arm and began purring how he was even more gorgeous now than he had been on the last time they saw each other, and Pansy Parkinson who glared at her best friend whilst flipping her sandy blonde hair and keeping her pug nose high in the air, sniffing with disdain.
They relocated to the Great Hall, which had been set up much the same as it had been every other year. Draco ignored the masses of students pointing at him and sat down at the Slytherin table, resting his chin on his fist and closing his golden eyes, trying to block out the noise and find a nice little slice of nirvana.
He began to feel himself growing calmer and more relaxed, the noise slowly growing dimmer until it was nothing but a barely noticeable buzz in the background. His breathing was slow and steady, and he began to imagine himself in the clearing where he had met Morgan for the second time, as it had suggested in the book. The best place to create magic, it had said, was in a place you felt comfortable. And if one was accomplished at meditation, one could carry that place within them.
The small pond appeared beside him, and the trees grew up tall, only in his mind there were leafy and green as they usually were in spring. A cool wind was blowing and the sky was overcast and grey, the same colour that his eyes had once been. He felt a slight tingling in the palms of his hands and he looked down at them in wonder. He placed his left on the ground in front of him, palm down, and began to concentrate. He felt a peculiar rush inside his body and, to his amazement, a tiny green stem with a single leaf sprung up from the ground.
"Wake up!" Carlos whispered, elbowing him in the ribs.
Draco jumped and shot him a glare. "I wasn't asleep."
"Yeah? Then how come you didn't notice that the food's been out for the last five minutes?"
Draco flicked his eyes up and down the long table, which was now laden with plates and bowls of food. Everybody else was halfway through their meals. His heart sunk. He must have been asleep. He sighed and lifted his hand to reach for a drumstick, then stopped cold as he noticed something that had been beneath his hand.
A little green shoot with a single leaf was growing out of the table.
"Hey, check it out!" Carlos grinned. "Like, the table's so old it's moulding."
"That's not mould, idiot," Draco rolled his eyes, pulling the shoot out of the wood. "It stuck on my sleeve and it fell."
"Oh," Carlos raised his eyebrows. "Ah well."
Draco frowned. "So I missed the Sorting?"
"You did, yeah," Carlos said when he'd swallowed a mouthful of chicken. "But I can hardly blame you for sleeping through that. Wish I had of."
"Anything interesting?"
"Not really. There's a new sixth year, though. Scottish. Forget her name, but she was put in Ravenclaw."
Draco nodded slowly, his eyes sliding to the Ravenclaw table where he picked out Taylor instantly. She was in the very middle, laughing with Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker.
"Nice smile," Carlos observed.
"Legs, too," Draco murmured.
"Ah, forgot you were a legs man," his friend grinned. "Anyway, you see that rather handsome young guy up there at the staff table?"
He pointed to a man in perhaps his mid-twenties who was sitting next to Professor Snape. The two were having a deep discussion about something or other. "What about him?"
"New Defence teacher."
"Really?" Draco frowned, looking back at him. He had long brown hair that fell to his shoulders and intelligent looking blue eyes. His skin was unusually tanned for all the cloudy weather they'd been having lately. "Never seen Snape acting chummy with a Defence teacher before."
Carlos shook his head. "I heard he didn't bother applying this year, so I guess he doesn't think he's been chosen over him."
Draco raised his eyebrows. "Maybe."

The previous year, when all fifth years had been required to attend a career counselling session with their Head of House, Draco hadn't been particularly interested. His plans, of course, were simply to become a Death Eater and wreak havoc and destruction upon the world. No biggie. His father, however, had assured him that he needed a proper job at the same time. So when Snape had asked him what he wanted to be, Draco had said the very first job he could think of. An Auror. Unfortunately, it seemed to have landed him in every single one of Harry Potters classes. Draco couldn't enter a classroom without finding Potter settled in the middle of the room, with either a bushy brunette or a speckled redhead next to him. His entire Monday was filled with Potter. Potter in Transfiguration, Potter in Charms, Potter was even in the bloody library when they both seemed to have a free period.
Draco moodily kicked a scrunched up piece of paper as he walked through the halls to his first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.
"…and it has to brew for exactly a month," a voice stressed. "No more, no less. Then all you do is add something from the person you want to change into and off you go! Hair's usually recommended. But make sure you know it's theirs. Yank it out of their head if you have to. If it turns out to be an animal hair, you're in trouble. "
"Is that hair thing hygienic?" another voice asked. "Sounds pretty disgusting."
Draco flicked his fringe from his eyes and turned around, leaning on the wall as he watched Hermione Granger and Taylor McAngus walk towards him. Neither girl had noticed him. "Better than toenails," he said.
The girls jumped, Granger immediately glaring at him. "Nobody asked you," she spat.
"I'd have to agree there, though," Taylor smiled.
Granger looked at the two of them disapprovingly. "I'll see you in class, Tay," she sniffed, then continued on her merry way.
"You friends with her?" Draco asked, an eyebrow raised.
Taylor shrugged. "Only just met her, really. She was telling me about Polyjuice Potion for that test on Friday."
"Should have just asked me."
She smiled. "And how would you know?"
"I'm a Malfoy. Malfoy's know everything."
"Aye? Really?"
"Yep."
"Everything?"
Draco grinned. "I could tell you what colour underwear Granger was wearing."
"Alright then," Taylor smiled. "What have I got in me pocket?"
Draco scratched his chin. "Have to give me three guesses."
"Take four, if you like," she offered generously.
"Hands," he guessed.
"No."
"Uh… Knife?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Why on earth would I be carrying a knife in me pocket?"
"Ritual sacrifice, maybe?"
"Hardly. Last guesses."
"Um. String? Or nothing."
"Both wrong," she laughed. "You're letting down the family name. And we're late."
She began to walk away down the corridor. Draco grinned and caught up with her, grabbing her upper arm. "Wait on, you haven't told me what it was."
"Ah, now. That wasn't part of the deal."
"Tell me," he said, looping a hand around her waist as she tried to keep walking and restrained her easily. "Or I won't let you go."
"And make me miss out on a lesson with the best looking teacher I've ever seen? That's nasty, that is."
"I'm a nasty guy, in case you haven't heard."
"Ah, the evil Draco Malfoy," her eyes twinkled. "I've heard all about you. Put me down, Duckie, and I'll tell you."
"Duckie?" he raised his eyebrows.
"Aye Duckie," she laughed. "And for your information, the girls uniform doesn't have pockets." She winked as she spun and left him standing in the hall, shaking his head and chuckling.

"Draco Malfoy, I'm guessing," the teacher said from behind his desk as Draco walked inside. He was leaning back the two back legs of his chair, and his sleek brown hair was hanging everywhere. "Only person on the role not here yet. Welcome!" The guy had a huge, friendly smile and a strong Welsh accent.
Draco raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything, making his way to a seat in the back where the other Slytherin's were sitting. He parked himself next to Natassja and leaned back in his chair. "What's his name again?" he asked her. She shrugged unhelpfully, chewing some form of gum.
"Now, as most of you know, my name is Rhun Larch," the teacher said as he surveyed the class with his bright eyes. "You can call me Professor Larch or Rhun, it really doesn't bother me."
Grangers hand shot up.
"Yes, Hermione?" he asked pleasantly.
"What exactly will we be learning this year, Professor?" she asked him eagerly.
Rhun looked puzzled for a moment. "Learning?" he scratched his chin with his thumb. "Oh. Uh… how to handle little beasties and things, I suppose. You don't do OWL's this year, do you?"
"No, we don't," she said, regarding him with evident disappointment. "NEWT's are next year, though."
"Ah, well! Next year's next year, isn't it? I'd say worry about it then. This year, we'll have some fun." He gave Granger a reassuring smile. "But don't fret, Hermione. I'm not completely abandoning your education."
"Oh good," she sighed.
"Seems slightly hopeless, doesn't he?" Draco muttered.
"Fucking oath," Natassja agreed. "Let's muddle his cheerful little mind."
"How's that?"
She shrugged. "Ask him something stupid."
"Oh, well that's got to be your best evil plan yet," Draco rolled his eyes. "Cunning."
"Piss off. It takes me a week to get into the flow."
He shook his head and lazily raised his hand.
"Draco," Rhun nodded.
"I was just wondering, Rhun," he drawled, "whether you know where the Summer ran off to?"
"Ah yes," Rhun smiled. It was a curiously wistful smile, and his blue eyes turned to the window. Outside the clouds were heavy and black and rain was spattering down. Lightning flashed in the distance, and thunder rolled over them several seconds later. "Deep sleeps the winter," he murmured. "Cold, wet, and grey; surely all the world is dead; Spring is far away." He shook himself and looked at the class again. "It's not natural," he said. "Not entirely. Someone has shifted the order of things, and the seasonal spirits aren't happy."
"Who do you think is doing it?" a Hufflepuff girl asked.
"Gee, I wonder," Potter said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Hmm, now let me see."
"Well my bet's on the Tooth Fairy," Draco said. "Evil little bug that she is."
The sound of Rhun's laughter washed over them even as Potter and the rest of the Gryffindors uniformly turned and glared.
"Well rehearsed, that," he observed to Tash. She nodded.
"Calm down everyone," Rhun smiled, smoothing his hair down. "This isn't the place to be throwing glares around. You'll miss what I brought for you."
"What is it?" Seamus asked.
"This," he pulled out a startlingly red rose.
Natassja's eyebrow's shot into her spiky black and green fringe. "Where'd he get a rose like that in this weather?"
"Magic, I'm guessing."
"That's beautiful," he heard Blaise purr loudly. "Oh, Rhun, you shouldn't have."
Draco bit his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing. To his further amusement, he saw Weasley turn around and give here a weird stare. Rhun merely chuckled.
"Aye, it is pretty," he smiled. "There is rarely anything more beautiful than a Summer's rose, but I didn't just bring in a flower." He stroked a finger down one of the petals. "Come out, little angel. Let us see your pretty face."
Slowly, the petals of the rose began to unfurl and a glowing red spark emerged from inside. It flew upwards and began to buzz about the room, leaving glowing red sparks in its trail.
"This," Rhun explained. "Is a flower fairy. Of the rose, obviously. There are as many varieties of flower fairies as there are flowers, and if you have the patience, you'll find them in almost any garden."
He went on to explain the properties of the fairy, how to call them and how they could help you with certain injuries, spells and potions. Draco half listened, his eyes glued to the bright little spark fluttering about.
"Cool," Natassja muttered from beside him.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Cool."

The first week of school passed on by uneventfully, with Quidditch try-outs scheduled for the following week. Slytherin only needed to fill the space of Chaser this year, as Pucey had left at the end of last year.
Draco was lounging in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room that Friday night, reading through a chapter on Astral Projection in Morgan's book when Montague crouched in front of him. "Malfoy," he grabbed the book away from him. "Hey."
Draco barely moved. "What did we say about touching Draco's things, Romeo?"
Montague faltered. "I… um. Don't?"
"Right. Good boy." He held out his hand expectantly and Montague returned the book. "Now what do you want?"
"Listen, like, we need a new chaser, right?"
"Yeah, I'm aware of the fact. What about it?"
"Well, see, I wanted to have tryouts on Thursday. At night, like. And, well, I wanted to have the whole team there. You know?"
Draco rolled his eyes. Montague, Captain of the Slytherin team, was probably the most uncertain person in the world. He had to ask Draco's permission at least twice before he decided anything, and then he couldn't come to a complete conclusion without Snape, which was probably the reason for their dismal performance last year.
"Sounds reasonable," Draco shrugged.
"You think? Like, really? You'll be there?"
"Unless I've been kicked off the team," he said absently, finding his page and continuing to read it.
"And, like, you'll make everybody else come?"
"Yes, Romeo. I will. I'll even make then run a few laps so they're all ready to watch other people do things." He gave a big, sparklingly fake smile. "Alright?"
"Yeah," Montague beamed happily. "Right. Great. See you then!"
He pulled himself up and returned to the group of seventh years who were lounging around on the large green sofa in the corner of the room.
"Because there's no chance of bumping into me before then," Draco muttered to himself when he'd gone. "Idiot."
"Awfully pretty, that one," Carlos said, coming out from nowhere. "But a large empty cavern where his brain should be."
"Just been to see David, have we?"
Carlos blushed faintly. "What makes you say that?"
"You wouldn't call an ugly git like Montague 'pretty' unless you were riding high on a wave of sexual stimulation."
Carlos chuckled. "You're in a good mood."
"Like I said, sexual stimulation," he murmured. "Or lack thereof."
"I'm sure Blaise or Pansy would be happy to oblige," he smirked, nodding at the two girls who were sitting with the seventh year boys, simpering and flirting as if their lives depended on it. "And Millicent, if she hadn't of moved to China. She had quite the crush on you, you know."
The corner of Draco's mouth upturned slightly. "Who doesn't?"
"Ah, well you've got a point there. David used to as well," he grinned. "But I helped him get over it."
Draco laughed and pulled the pillow out from underneath him, smacking Carlos in the face with it. "More than I needed to know, Hart!"
Carlos chuckled and wrestled the pillow off his friend. "Just thought I'd inform you, like."
"I thought I'd trained you out of saying that."
"What? Like?"
"Yes. It makes you sound like an idiot."
"Makes me sound like Montague."
Draco looked up at him from underneath his fringe. "Like I said. Idiot."
Carlos smiled and shook his head. "Don't know why I even try. You always win."
"Naturally. I'm a Malfoy."
"Like, I know that." He grinned as Draco rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I'm going to bed. It's late."
"I'm gonna sit up for a while."
"Well don't be so late that you wake me up," Carlos warned. "You disturbed a very good dream the other night."
"Apologies. I won't bother the Italian-Irish love fest."
Carlos gave a cheeky grin. "Oh, it wasn't just us two."
"Don't finish that. Goodnight."
It didn't take long for the common room empty. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning when the seventh years finally went up to bed, Blaise glancing at him with bedroom eyes as she slipped around the doorway.
Draco shook his head and, once he was sure that she'd gone, he slid off the chair and crossed his legs, slipping quite easily into a calm state. Feeling the warmth of the fire on his face, he began to picture himself sitting in front of him. Having been a boy who spent quite a long time in front of the mirror, he found this easy to do. The image was hazy at first, filmy. But within several minutes, it looked completely solid. He smiled with satisfaction as he looked at it, but as soon as he did so, he broke his concentration and the image vanished.
"Damn it," he growled.
"It was very good, though," Morgan said from behind him. He felt a pair of arms wrap around him and her spicy scent flooded his nostrils. "You're a natural."
"Thankyou," he murmured, trying to force his heart to slow down. He took hold of one of her arms, about to remove it from his chest when he suddenly thought of something and pulled up the sleeve of her shirt. There, on her forearm, was the black skull with a serpent tongue embedded on her porcelain skin. It was rather smaller than the usual mark, but it still seemed to mar her perfect skin.
"Yours will come soon enough," she said, curiously sad.
"When?" he asked. "When can I join?"
She sighed. "Soon. You're advancing quickly. Soon you'll be able to create real magic. Then he'll want you to meet him."
Draco brought himself to his knees, letting her arms slid from around him. He turned to face her, both their faces grave. "I want you to tell me something."
"What is it?"
"Where's my mother?"
Morgan's face betrayed nothing. "She's with him."
"Why didn't she tell me what she was doing?" he asked urgently. "Why did she betray my father like that?"
"I cannot tell you that, Draco," she said. "I'm sorry. I'm not the one to ask."
"Well I can't bloody ask her, can I?"
"You can," she stroked his hair. "Eventually. Later. When you go to him."
"None of this makes sense," he muttered, clenching his jaw. For some unexplainable reason, a lump was growing in his throat and tears were prickling behind his eyes. "It's all bullshit."
"I know you feel alone, Draco. It's only natural."
"It's not natural," he pulled away, pulling himself to his feet and backing away. "My mother breaks everybody out of Azkaban except for my father, I go to live with one of Dumbledore's lot, I get bitten by a werewolf and the sad thing is that the only person I can think of who'd ever care is the same bloody wolf that bit me! I'm being followed by some girl Death Eater who can apparate and disapparate into Hogwarts which, coincidentally, nobody can do, and she's trying to teach me a magic I've never even heard of. And in one week, I'm going to sprout fangs and fur. Is that natural?"
Morgan wordlessly stood and went to him, reaching out a hand to touch his cheek, but he turned his back, trying to hide the single, traitorous tear that had sprung from his eyes.
"Look at my eyes," he murmured, catching sight of himself in a trophy that stood on a shelf above the fireplace. "That isn't natural. That isn't me."
"They are you, Draco," she whispered, taking his hand and turning him firmly around. She placed a hand on either side of his head and looked deeply into those eyes. "Believe it or not, these eyes are more you than your old ones. Cold and flat, they were. Like steel. But these? I see you in these eyes. Like flames."
"You think I'm like a flame?" he asked sceptically.
She smiled. "You're not as cold as you think you are. I've seen you, you know. I see you when you don't even know I'm there. You're a loyal friend. You look after those who follow you. You're even passionate at times. But, like a flame, you're dangerous, too."
"And when am I passionate?" he asked, his breathing becoming heavier. He reached up and removed her hands from his face, bringing them down to rest on his wait. He trailed his on hands up her arms and through the silky curtain of her hair.
"When you look at me," she whispered, her huge eyes drawing him in. He felt like he was falling, like he could get lost inside those eyes and never find his way out again.
"What are you?" he frowned. Tracing the outline of her lips with his finger.
"I'm your guardian angel," she said as she caught his hand and brought it down, bringing her lips to meet his and capturing him inside a deep kiss.