Watching

Our House took our "sudden" marriage well. They all thought our fathers had forced us into the marriage. No one realized this was what we wanted. No one realized that on some rare occasion, Slytherins actually fell in love.

I started my mission right away in our next Potions class. Both Harry and Hermione qualified for my father's Advanced Potions class, and for some odd reason that I cannot grasp, they both took the course.

I sat next to them that day, and Draco joined me without question--or without being asked.

I will never forget the look on my brother's face when I sat down, confusion, joy, and hatred. I never would have imagined all three emotions could be shown on the same face at the same time.

"Hello, Harry," I greeted. I paused for a moment, fighting the urge to call the Mudblood, well, a Mudblood. "Hermione."

They were both shocked. How many days had it been since I had called that girl a Mudblood? Four? Five? And here I am, calling the both of them by their first names, completely non-hostile. It's a gesture of friendship, idiots, take it.

"Hello, Athena," Harry replied. "Malfoy."

Come on now, you can do better than that. He has a first name, dolt, and he's about to start using yours.

My father (Professor Snape while in class) walked to his desk from the storeroom and called roll, pausing when he reached my changed name. Harry gave us a weird look while my father continued calling people's names.

"So you've gone from the name of one person I hate to another?" Harry asked me as we left the classroom.

"Can't help who you love, or who your parents are...er...were, I mean. Speaking of which, we're family, maybe it's time we start acting like it."

"And what about your Death Eater attitude?" he asked. "My family was Anti-Voldemort you know. Will this be a problem?"

"When are you going to understand, Harry? Lily was a Death Eater. That is the reason you were born. That is the reason I lost my mother."

"With that attitude, you can kiss this family good bye. I refuse to believe my mother was a Death Eater. She was Head Girl; she was a member of the Order. Voldemort was after her!"

"He was after you. You were what he wanted. Look at the pictures with Lily in them after you were born. You will see the Dark Mark on her left arm. Hell, I have a picture with the proof. How many spies do you think He has? How many of those spies have been suspected, let alone actually accused? How many of Dumbledore's plans have been sabotaged? Or have you not gotten far enough in to find out? How sheltered does the world keep its savior?"

"I don't see how that is any of your business."

"I do. You think I'm a Death Eater, don't you? You think that I am lying about everything I have said. Let me tell you how I see the Dark Lord. He is a power hungry bastard. He expects those who follow him to bow before him as if they were scum and he was God. He tells them to kiss his robes, but not to touch him, as they are scum and he is God. Do you expect your own flesh and blood to bow before him, to become scum? Or are you so blinded by your refusal to believe that even your family has secrets?

"I am not weak, I do not refuse to see what is written so plainly in front of me. I do not cower in fear because the night is dark, Harry. I live in the real world, and I am here to tell you that it is cruel, dark, and ultimately evil. How blind are you Gryffindors?"

There was no response, from him or his girlfriend. "And I am sorry," I said to the Mudblood. "I was angry and we Slytherins aren't know for holding our tongues when we get that way, but we are known for our colorful language."

"It's alright," she said. "It's not like I haven't been called that before," she said shooting daggers at my husband, who in turn backed away slightly. I'm sure I am the only one who noticed this.

I squeezed his hand. If I was doing this, he was doing this.

He held out his hand to Harry. "Truce?" he offered.

Harry stared at the outstretched hand which had been offered only once before. He'd rejected it then, would he do so now?

No. Harry and Draco shook hands. It was a miracle.

A sixth year girl walking by stopped dead. She had long red Weasley hair and second hand robes: the youngest Weasley. Go away.

"Harry," she asked in disbelief. "What are you doing?"

Harry and Draco let go. "Calling a truce," Harry replied. "Ginny, have you met my sister? Athena, this is Ginny Weasley. Gin, this is Athena," he hesitated, "Malfoy."

Athena Malfoy! I smiled unwillingly at that and my gaze caught Draco's for an instant before I shook hands with Ginny Weasley.

"You two are related?" she asked shocked. "How?"

"A question I am still looking for the answers to," I answered.

"What," Harry asked rudely. "Dear ol' daddy won't tell you?"

I breathed deep, holding back an insult. "No," I said shortly. "After the Dark Lord asked her to deliver you, he hasn't said one word without my pissing him off. The most he'll tell me is 'she was doing her duty.' She hurt him you know, so sod off about my father."

"I have a heard time believing Snape has a heart."

"Well, he does, and if you don't believe me, ask him about mum."

I walked away then, towards the Slytherin common room. I knew Draco was following me, lurking in my world of shadows. I didn't care, and I knew I'd pay for what I was about to do, but I punched the cold, jagged stonewall as hard as I could anyway. No one talks about my family that way. No one.

I looked at my still clenched fist. My fingers were bloody, but it didn't hurt. It never hurt. In fact, the feel of the blood oozing from the small cuts was soothing. The blood coming out of my body was drawing out the anger....

Draco swore.

"If you didn't want me to do it, Love," I said to the wall, "you should have stopped me before I did."

"Why do you insist on doing this to yourself?"

"You know more than anyone why. You know what happens behind closed doors. You know how the blade feels once it pierces the skin. You know more than anyone Draco," I said reaching for his arm. I pushed the sleeve of his robes up. "Look and then ask me why. Tell me why we both have these scars."

The scars were faint, for both of us; you could only see them if you knew they were there and you knew where to look. They were the remnants of when we would cut our arms, or our legs, or any other body part, just to let the blood release the anger, the hatred, the sadness. We let it soothe us.

We heard footsteps, bringing us both back to the present. Draco pulled his arm away and the sleeve fell back into place. Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode were walking hurriedly down the corridor to us. I inwardly cringed. While all three were blubbering idiots in classes, they were the three rudest people I had ever met. They never bit back the insult, never tried to be nice, and always threatened you. And you only knew this side of all three of them if you were a Slytherin.

"Did you really do it?" Greg asked.

"The whole school's talking about it," added Vince.

"A truce?" Millicent exclaimed. "You called a truce with a Gryffindor? Are you crazy?"

"Millicent, you have no idea what you are talking about, so keep your nose out."

"Does this have anything to do with what--"

"Shut up, Greg," Draco ordered. That was another thing about Crabbe and Goyle I hated, they never knew when to shut up. And Millicent, not being a Death Eater, was therefore treated as a spy. Anyone not working for the Dark Lord could be working for Dumbledore.