A Pair of Star-Cross'd Lovers

A Pair of Star-Cross'd Lovers

Act One

Two households, both alike in dignity

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny...

-William Shakespeare

The Slytherin common room was cold stone, draped in green tapestries and windowless archways. Stiff leather couches dotted the room, with heavy oak tables in between, and hard-backed chairs. Despite being located in the bowels of Hogwarts, the snug underground lair offered a high ceiling and was quite warm. There were no windows, and the only light came from the flickering fireplace, the generously placed candelabras, and the taper candles that lined the walls.

Normally full of chatter and jokes, the common room was unnaturally quiet. Sitting alone at the long table that faced the doorway was a seventh-year student, blond and thin, head bent over a textbook, brow furrowed in thought. He had been sitting there for some time, and when the door to the general school opened, he did not even look up.

"Disgusting, the way they carry on," said a familiar voice, and the boy frowned, displeased at the disturbance. "They think they rule the school!"

"Overbearing gits," replied another voice after a moment, with such self-satisfaction, it was as though the owner had spent an hour thinking of the phrase.

The blond boy looked up. "Another tussle with the Gryffindors, I take it?"

They nodded. "We got the better of them, though."

"Well enough, then," said Draco Malfoy. "Leave me out of it. I'm studying."

"Overbearing git Gryffindors," said the second boy again, and then smiled delightedly. "Stupid Git-endors." He grinned at his joke, grabbed an apple from the bowl near Draco's hand, and left the room by way of the stair leading to the dormitories.

"Idiot," muttered Draco, and turned back to his work. The other boy sat on a nearby couch and looked at him.

"You've been studying since morning," he said. "Aren't you done yet?"

"It's not that late," said Draco.

"It's nine already."

Draco looked up, blinking. "Nine? At night? Zabini, you've got rocks in your head."

"Maybe, but something is wrong with you," replied Blaise Zabini.

Draco shrugged. "I have a lot on my mind."

Blaise stood. "Don't tell me, then. I'll let you be." He took a few steps away and then stopped, turning back. "Is it Potter?"

"No."

"Weasley?"

"No!"

"A girl then?"

Draco didn't say anything.

"No girl snubs Draco Malfoy!" declared Blaise, and clenched his hands. Draco groaned.

"She didn't snub me," said Draco. "Her nose is stuck in books all day long. She'd rather read the whole of Hogwarts library than care for me."

"A Ravenclaw?"

"Of course! What, you thought I meant Granger? Don't be stupid. I wouldn't love a Gryffindor if you handed me one on a silver plate, naked and with a green ribbon wrapped around her neck!"

"Get her nose out of a book long enough, and she'll love you," said Blaise.

"And I suppose you've got a plan?" scoffed Draco.

"There's a ball next week, don't you remember? It's Halloween, and we're all to go in costume. Sixth year and up only. She'll appear then. And if you're masked, she won't know it's you, and you can state your case plainly and make her love you."

For the first time that day, Draco smiled.

***

"Harry, put me down!" squealed Hermione Granger. "I'm not a sack of potatoes that you can lug around, you know!"

Laughing, Harry Potter dropped the brown-haired Head Girl onto the cushion-filled burgundy couch in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was about to roll off, but Harry stopped her by sitting on her stomach.

"You're not moving until you tell me where Ron is," he said, laughing. "You've got him tied up in your bed, I know it."

"Harry, get off me!" yelled Hermione. "I'll tell you, I'll tell you - "

Harry hopped off, and sat on the squishy chair opposite her. Hermione sat up, rubbing her belly. "I didn't want to tell you before," she snapped. "You'll just get upset and storm off to find him and Ron needs his rest, not you being all heroic."

"You wore him out last night, did you?" laughed Harry.

"Ron's in the hospital wing," said Hermione. "He and some of the Slytherins had words earlier."

Harry's face grew red. "Is he hurt? Where was I? Why didn't you say something?"

"He's fine," Hermione said. "Madam Pomfrey said he just needed to re-grow a bone or two ... or twenty."

Harry jumped up and ran to the portrait that led to the main school. "I'm going to see him," he said shortly. "I might spend the night there, if Pomfrey doesn't kick me out." He left before Hermione could say another word.

"You could have told him," said Ginny Weasley from her perch in the corner. "I don't know why you didn't."

Hermione turned to the crimson-haired girl. "I didn't see you there," she said in surprise. Ginny hopped off the bench, partially hidden by curtains, and sat next to Hermione on the sofa.

"No one does," said Ginny. "That's why I like that corner. The curtains from the windows keep me hidden, and I can hear all sorts of secrets."

"Like what?"

"Nothing about you and Ron, if that's what you're thinking. But I know that you and Charlie were planning to talk tonight, and I think I know why."

Hermione blushed, nearly matching the sofa. "I meant to say something to you tonight, really - Charlie and I thought to tell you sooner."

"You can tell me now, then," said Ginny, smiling, "and I'll pretend I never heard before."

"It's only that Ron worries a bit about you," said Hermione. "He knows you liked Harry when you were younger, and it saddens him that you seem to have lost all interest in Harry or any other boy. First Michael Corner, then Dean - Ron just wants you to find someone and be happy."

"There isn't anyone I'm particularly interested in," said Ginny. "Nor anyone interested in me, for that matter."

Hermione bit her lip. "Well ... that's why Charlie was going to Floo tonight. He was thinking to set you up, if you didn't mind terribly."

"A blind date?"

"Not quite. You know him already, and he knows you. His older brother works with Charlie, and apparently the boy is very much smitten with you already. Charlie asked me to help convince you to give the boy a chance."

"Who is it?" asked Ginny warily.

"Ernie Macmillan."

"Ernie? But - I thought he and Hannah Abbott - I mean, I've barely spoken two words to him!"

"So then speak to him now," said Hermione. "I'm not asking you to marry him, goodness. Just to talk to him once or twice. Next week, at the Halloween Ball, even! He'll be there, along with everyone else. You can say a word or two, and then if you don't like him, that will be that. No pressure at all."

Ginny sighed. "I'll look at him, and if I find I like him, perhaps it will go from there. But I promise nothing more, Hermione."

"I ask no more," said Hermione, smiling. "Excellent. Let's go choose your costume!"

"Why does everyone in love insist on romance for the rest of us?" grumbled Ginny. "Ever since you and Ron became a couple, you've had it in for me."

Hermione only laughed, and taking Ginny's hand, went towards the girls' dormitories.

***

Gryffindors seldom crossed Slytherins on their way to the Great Hall in the morning for breakfast, unless they happened to reach the entrance at the same time. As the Slytherins tended to be a late-rising crowd, and Gryffindors were notorious for being morning larks, this hardly ever occurred.

The morning of the Halloween ball, however, was a notable exception. Malcolm Braddock and Morag MacDougal, two Slytherins, were heading into breakfast when they brushed shoulders with Gryffindors Colin and Dennis Creevey, who were headed out.

"Hey!" shouted Colin, as Dennis nearly toppled onto him. "You big oaf, watch where you're going."

Malcolm Braddock, the same year as Colin but twice the size, turned and stared at the Gryffindor boy with beady eyes. "Are you calling me a big oaf?"

"Maybe not you specifically," said Colin, "but as I don't see anyone else here!"

Malcolm's eyes narrowed, as much as eyes can narrow when the face they're set in is rather pudgy. "You're trying to pick a fight, aren't you?"

Colin rolled his eyes. "No, I'm just standing here making conversation."

Malcolm pulled his wand from his sleeve. "I'll teach you to make fun of me!"

"Hey!" shouted a voice from the end of the hall, and the boys turned to see Blaise Zabini approaching, his prefect badge shining on his robes. "Put away your wands, you know dueling in the hallways isn't allowed."

Malcolm lowered his wand but did not put it away. Colin stared defiantly at him, a small smile at his lips.

"Colin? Is something wrong?" Harry Potter appeared in the doorway that led into the Great Hall, with Ron Weasley at his side. Ron saw Malcolm's wand and scowled.

"Can't eat breakfast without beating up someone smaller than you, eh?" he snapped. "And you, Zabini, just egging them on, weren't you?"

"I was trying to stop them from killing each other," said Blaise coldly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go in to breakfast. We're calling a truce for now."

"I think I do mind," said Ron. "Truce? I wouldn't call a truce with a Slytherin if my life depended on it. Death Eaters and Slytherins are all the same to me!"

The wands came out so quickly, no one was certain whose had appeared first. But Blaise and Ron had barely managed to call out their first curses when the entire hallway shook and the lights dimmed. Both boys were knocked to their knees, their wands flying from them and to the hands of the Headmaster standing at the end of the hall.

"Enough!" said Albus Dumbledore in an ominous voice. "Is it not enough that we face a war outside of these walls that we must face a war inside of them - and before breakfast, no less!"

"Headmaster," began Blaise, "I tried to stop them - "

"They were about to blast Colin, and I only tried - " said Ron.

"I won't hear your excuses," said Dumbledore, his eyes blazing. "I have told all of you time and again that there is no dueling in the halls, and I see that none of you have listened. There has been enough fighting between your two houses, and we of the rest of the school are weary of it. If any of you should disturb the peace of this school again, the perpetrator shall have to pay with expulsion."

The students fell silent as Dumbledore passed all of them on his way into the Great Hall. The three Slytherins followed him a moment later, careful not to meet eyes with the Gryffindor boys.

"I think he means it," said Harry quietly.

"I'll just have to get Malfoy to do something first, then," said Ron firmly, and together they headed off to their first class.

***

The Great Hall, home to breakfast, lunch, dinner, various food fights, break-ups, make-ups, and the occasional wizards' duel, was the most unlikely setting for a Halloween Ball.

Which was why, when Halloween evening proved clear, the party was moved outside under the stars. Fairy lights were installed along the castle's turrets, and luminaries lined the various pathways in the gardens. Tables decorated with autumn leaves dotted the yard, and multiple refreshment stands scattered around the dance floor.

When Ginny arrived, she was enchanted. "Why, it's lovely!" she exclaimed, stopping in the doorway to the castle. "Hermione, have you ever seen the grounds so pretty?"

Hermione, her hand tucked into Ron's arm, smiled. "Not that I recall. But look, I see Ernie by the musicians, in the blue cloak. Do you see him?"

Ginny's heart fell, having forgotten her true purpose at the ball. "I do. I'll go over in a moment. I see Luna and I want to ask her something." Ginny slipped away and joined the Ravenclaw girl at a table on the far end of the garden.

"She's stalling," said Ron grimly.

"For a bit," said Hermione soothingly. "She'll come 'round."

Just then, someone from behind shoved into the couple. Hermione nearly lost her balance and toppled down the stairs, but for Ron grasping her arm. "Don't stand in the doorway," drawled Draco Malfoy. "You're ruining the view."

Malfoy was resplendent in a dark blue cloak, with a black half-mask covering his nose and eyes. Only the curl on his lip was visible. Behind him stood three other Slytherins, masked and robed, and unrecognizable, though Hermione was fairly certain they were comprised of Malfoy's regular cronies, Goyle, Crabbe and Zabini.

Ron took a step toward Malfoy. "I won't endure your lip tonight, Malfoy," he growled. "I've had enough of you continually scorning me and mine."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh, Weasel, I'm so afraid of your rapier wit. I believe I've as much right to be here as you."

"Boys," said a voice behind them, and they turned to see Dumbledore standing in the doorway. "And Miss Granger. A lovely evening, is it not?"

"It could be lovelier," said Draco, eyeing Hermione despairingly, and he and his cronies moved down the steps and into the party below.

"That villain," fumed Ron. "I won't endure his taunts tonight - I won't!"

"Mr Weasley," chastened Dumbledore. "Take no note of him. There are enough here that you needn't run across him if you wish. Smile and be merry, this is a night for magic and mystery."

The Headmaster replaced his mask - a commedia del'arte Harlequin with an extra long nose - and descended the steps. Ron frowned, and Hermione patted his arm.

"I'll let him go for now, since Dumbledore insists," he muttered. "But should he try anything, morning is fair game."

Draco did not hear Ron's threat, and it would not have bothered him if he had. He moved through the crowds as though ten feet tall, looking down on the mere mortals in his wake. The Slytherins reached an empty table and took possession of it, spreading themselves out on it and looking stern and aloof.

"She's out there somewhere," said Blaise in a low voice to Draco. "Likely with the other Ravenclaws."

"I saw her sitting with them," Draco replied quietly. "In the dark green robes, with the silver mask."

"She wears your colours," said Goyle. "That's a good sign, isn't it?"

Draco frowned. "I don't trust it. Look, she's laughing with them. She won't want to leave them to be with me."

"Who cares what she wants?" said Goyle. "Be rough with her, she'll follow you willingly soon enough." Crabbe laughed and elbowed Goyle in the ribs.

"That's not the way to win a girl," said Blaise. "Speak to her sweetly, and handle her gently, and she'll melt in your arms."

Draco stood. "Why I listen to you brainless, girl-less fools, I'll never know," he said sternly. He strode away, his eyes focused solely on the girl in green.

***

Ginny left the Ravenclaw table and went in search of something to drink. Ernie will find me if I stay too long in place, she thought miserably. This is wretched! I hate being set up like this. I just want the evening to end!

She had just started pouring herself a glass of punch when the voice across the table startled her. "Odd to see green on anyone but a Slytherin," and Ginny looked up to see a black mask set in a midnight blue cloak and hood.

"Or blue on one not in Ravenclaw," she said smoothly.

"It suits you," said the boy.

"How can you tell?" said Ginny, chuckling. "All you can see of me are my eyes."

"It suits your voice," said the boy. "Rich and clean, like a forest in summer brimming with new life."

Ginny blushed. "A poet," she said. "I had not been led to believe you poetical."

The boy smiled. "And what had you been led to believe?"

Ginny thought. "I - don't quite know. That you speak without thinking, and that you are quick to jump to conclusions that are not always correct."

"Do you think so?"

Ginny paused. "I always thought of you as quiet and observant, no more than that."

"If you thought of me at all, it is good enough for me," said the boy, and reached his hand across the table. "Here, the music starts. Dance with me?"

And Ginny did.

***

Hermione elbowed Ron gently. "You see," she whispered. "I told you all would be well."

***

"Well then!" said Blaise, watching them dance. "I knew Draco had it in him."

***

Draco's heart was soaring. She's here, she's smiling and she likes me, he thought. The girl was light in his arms and her brown eyes were laughing as he spun her about the dance floor. Her hands were small compared to his own, and her touch on his shoulder was warm, even through the thick cloak. He spun her around and pulled her back in, and the force with which she spun drove her straight into him, nearly knocking him off balance. It was as though a tidal wave of life passed through her and into him, and Draco felt such joy at the sudden contact that he laughed.

"Am I funny?" asked the girl.

"No, I'm happy," said Draco. "I hardly thought I would dance with you tonight."

"I didn't think so either," said the girl. Draco released her, regrettably, and twirled her about again. Once more she flung herself back into him, unable to control her momentum.

"I'm glad you agreed to dance with me," he said.

"You only needed to ask," said the girl. "I would not have refused."

"You never noticed me before," said Draco. "I wasn't certain you knew my name."

The girl laughed. "Perhaps not, but now I know how my hand fits in yours, and the way you move to music. And I know how your laugh sounds. You are not the person I expected."

Draco raised an eyebrow, though he knew it was hidden by his mask. "Who did you expect, then?"

The girl blinked, looking up at him with wide and slightly embarrassed eyes. "Someone like your father, I suppose."

Draco was silent for a moment, and held her close to him. "I am not my father's son," he said finally. "I love him, and respect him, but I've no wish to be him and follow in his footsteps. He wants me to be like him, you see, and though I approve of his ideals, I cannot condone his choices."

The girl pulled away slightly, and Draco knew her brow was furrowed, by the way her eyes creased a bit. She looked at him with thoughtful eyes. "It is difficult to make your own way, apart from family," she said carefully. "I sometimes feel smothered by my own. Their expectations of where I can go, what I can do, to whom I can speak - sometimes I wonder what they might do if I went completely in another direction. It would be like swimming against the tide, and I doubt I have the strength."

Draco nodded. "I feel the same, when I go home. Too many expectations and hopes thrust upon me, and I don't wish to destroy my father - but I cannot fulfill his expectations of me and still be who I am."

The girl fell silent, and the dance ended. "Walk with me in the gardens," she said suddenly, and Draco took her hand and they left the dance.

***

"Where's Ginny?" asked Ron, scanning the crowd. Hermione, dancing with him, looked over his shoulder, frowning.

"I don't see her - oh, there she is. She and Ernie must be going for a walk in the gardens."

"No, Ernie's over there," said Ron, and he spun them around so she could see the boy standing by the refreshment table.

"But I saw her go with someone into the gardens!" exclaimed Hermione.

Ron was about to say something when they both overheard a passing comment. "Have you seen Harry Potter tonight?"

"Yes, but he left the party just now. I don't know where he went."

Hermione and Ron looked at one another. Hermione's eyes were shining, and Ron's mouth quirked, and they both knew that Ernie didn't matter very much anymore.

***

The rose gardens were fairly empty, but Draco took the girl through the gardens and straight into Greenhouse Two, where they sat among the rustling Mandrakes and looked through the glass to the stars. Draco could feel the heat from her body sitting close to his. It warmed him, and he moved closer.

"I love the stars at night," she said quietly. "So often it's cloudy and you cannot see them, but on a clear, crisp night like tonight, they seem to fill the world."

Draco looked at the girl out of the corner of his eye. He reached out and touched the bit of cheek uncovered by her half-mask, and the girl jumped, startled.

"I'm sorry - "

"No, it's just - your fingers are cold, and a bit rough," said the girl shyly.

"Too much time in Potions," said Draco, and the girl laughed. Her laugh was gentle and twinkling, and Draco felt bold. He leaned closer to her, so that his lips were inches from hers. "I - I could offer you a softer touch."

The girl laughed again. "I can guess what you mean. Do you suppose I give favors so easily?" she teased.

"No," said Draco quite seriously. "But then I would make up for my cold fingers."

The girl remained still. "I suppose a small favor would suffice," she whispered, and Draco heard her voice tremble. He leaned over and settled his lips on her cheek, taking her hand in his own. Her hand was warm in his, and her fingers curled. As he pulled away, the girl turned her face toward his, her mouth only inches from his.

"Your lips are warm," she whispered. "They make the rest of me cold."

"Then I'll have to kiss you again," said Draco, and he leaned in and touched his lips to hers, closing his eyes.

Ginny felt her heart leap as his lips pressed against hers. She was perfectly still, except for the frantic beating of her heart, and she was suddenly aware of everything around her. The feel of his hand over hers, the rustle of his cloak as he moved, the heavy scent of blooms around them mixed with clean soap and coffee, the roughness of his mask as it brushed against hers. Eyes closed, she reached up and touched it gently, pushing it up and off his face, to better feel his cheek, and felt his fingers do the same with hers.

As the masks fell softly to their laps, the boy deepened the kiss, and instinctively Ginny leaned into it, a growl in her throat. He wrapped his fingers behind her neck and the hand that held hers squeezed gently, bringing their clasped hands between them.

Ginny lost herself in the kiss. Her mind was blissfully blank, thinking only of the here and now, of the way his mouth tasted and the feel of his cool fingers around her own, in her hair; the softness of the wool of his cloak beneath her hand, the heat from his body she could feel through the fabric. She heard his growl, and felt him pull her closer into him. In his arms she felt safe and warm, his need was gentle compared to her own. She wanted to bury herself within him and never emerge.

It was several moments before the kiss broke, and Ginny kept her eyes closed, her face turned upward, afraid to let the moment go.

"Warmer?" asked the boy, his voice huskier, and the girl sighed.

"I - " and stopped as she heard his quick intake of breath. Ginny's eyes flew open to see the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy staring back at her.

"You!" was all he said, in complete shock, and for a moment, Ginny was frozen in her place. Draco's mouth was swollen with the kiss, and his eyes were round with amazement, lust and - dismay? Ginny did not want to know the rest. She stood and fled.

Draco stared after her, his lips still burning from the kiss, his hand still warm where it had held hers. A Weasley. And I'll warrant she did not know it was me either, from the look in her eyes. And Draco groaned, recalling his words to her earlier. She knows more about me now than any other in this school. If half the school knew I said all that, about Father and the rest - it will be hell come morning.

Draco spied the silver mask lying face down on the tiles. He picked it up and brushed his fingers lightly on the inside of the mask, still warm from her face, and bit his lip.

What's done is done, he thought grimly, and I'll have to watch her now to see what she does. But - oh - her eyes! How could I have mistaken her for that other? And those lips, and how her hand trembled beneath my own -

Draco closed his eyes, remembering her face after the kiss, her mouth turned upward, her lips swollen, red and wet. He remembered the way she had clung to him, as he ravaged her fresh mouth, the murmur in her throat, her voice trembling.

Draco stood swiftly and strode to the door. He reached it in time to see Ginny's racing form reach the castle and disappear into a side entrance. Draco's heart did a peculiar thump to see her racing away from him, and he resisted the urge to go after her.

Now what to do, he mused, thinking of the pale affection he'd held for the Ravenclaw girl, and the look of longing on Ginny's just-kissed face. Now I'm in a fix - a kiss, and with a Gryffindor!

***

Ginny fell blindly through the portrait hole entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She flung herself onto the chair closest to the fire and buried her head in her arms.

"Malfoy, Malfoy, why did it have to be Malfoy," she groaned into the chair's arm, and for the second time that night a male voice startled her.

"What did he do to you, Gin?"

Ginny's head flew up. "Harry! I - why aren't you at the party?"

Harry sat on the couch, surrounded by books and rolls of parchment. Crookshanks was on his lap. "I was; I didn't feel like staying. You were saying?"

Ginny sighed. "Oh, Harry - he didn't do anything that I didn't let him do." Harry's eyes narrowed, and Ginny smiled. "It was a masked ball, Harry. I didn't know it was him when he kissed me."

Harry was quiet, scratching Crookshanks behind the ears. "I would think," he said, "you wouldn't out and kiss a boy, just for show. Let alone on you hexed with bat bogeys two years ago! I imagine you spoke to him first?"

"And danced," said Ginny. "And spoke some more. He was so civil, Harry. I didn't realise who he was - now that I think on it, he must have mistaken me for someone else as well."

"What did you talk about?"

Ginny was quiet. "His father, and my brothers. About being our own person, despite what our families want for us. He was nice and gentle and so smart. And he asked me before he kissed me, Harry, he wouldn't have done it if I hadn't said yes."

"Why did you?"

"He said my voice was beautiful," Ginny said miserably. She buried her head in her arms again, and sighed heavily. "It's only because it's Malfoy that I feel this way. Had it been anyone else beneath that mask, I wouldn't have minded half as much."

"What did Malfoy say, when he saw it was you?" asked Harry.

"Nothing. I didn't give him a chance. I ran away. I ran here." Ginny lifted her head and wiped her eyes. "Not terribly brave of me, was it? A true Gryffindor might have stayed and - "

"And what?" asked Harry. "I can't see how staying would have been to your advantage. Malfoy might have thought you'd tricked him, become violent - "

"No!" cried Ginny. "He couldn't have done that."

"He's Malfoy," said Harry. "You don't know him as I do."

"You don't know him as I do either," said Ginny quickly.

"And if the day ever came when Malfoy kissed me, I'd throw myself out the window," said Harry dryly. "But we're talking about you. And you're sitting here, and now you can control the situation."

"I don't understand."

"You need to see him again."

"No!"

"Ginny, you kissed him. Or he kissed you. And though you haven't said for certain, I gather it was enough of a kiss that you have feelings for him now - at least on some level."

Ginny's stomach did a peculiar flip-flop. "I don't love Malfoy!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say you did. But you'll run into him throughout the rest of the year, and it's better for you to meet with him, I think, to clear the air."

"He likely thinks I'm an idiot," said Ginny, nestling her head in her arms once more.

"Not an idiot, I'm sure," soothed Harry, and he reached to touch Ginny's arm. His fingers were warm on her skin, but lacked the fire Draco's fingers had sparked. Ginny took Harry's hand and squeezed it, and could not help compare his thick fingers with Draco's, long and slender. No, she told herself firmly. Stop thinking about him! He's a Malfoy, and not for you.

But that night as she slept, the blond boy kissed her in her dreams.

***

A heavy knock sounded on the thick oak door, followed by a young voice.

"Professor?"

Annoyed to be disturbed so early in the morning, the man threw his ladle aside and strode to the door, barking out his words. "Yes, what is it? These are my own private hours, you've no right!" He reached the door and flung it open, revealing Draco Malfoy standing on the other side. "Oh, Malfoy," said Severus Snape, his voice considerably calmer and friendlier. "It's you. Come in, sit down a spell. Trouble brewing the Veritaserum?"

"No, sir," said Draco, settling himself in the high-backed chair opposite Snape's desk. "Well, yes, but that's not why I'm here."

Snape returned to the briskly bubbling cauldron at the center of the room and commenced stirring it slowly. "If it's not a potion, then it must be a girl," he said, "for I doubt anything else could which keep you awake all night."

"Who said I was awake all night?"

"It is five in the morning, dear boy, and you are seldom awake before eight," said Snape. "Therefore, I'm assuming you never went to bed at all. So tell me what's the trouble and be quick about it."

"A bloody girl!" said Draco irritably.

"Then your conquest for your Ravenclaw miss was successful, I take it?" said Snape dryly.

"Who said anything about a Ravenclaw girl?"

"You have done so, dear boy, the last ten times you have come by my office. I'll warn you now, I've no potion that prevents conception after the fact."

Draco felt sick. "Merlin, no! I haven't thought of the Ravenclaw girl since yesterday. I've forgotten her face, her name, and the sleepless nights she caused me."

"About time, too," said Snape. "If the Ravenclaw girl is no longer in your thoughts - do tell what kept you up tonight?"

Draco rose and walked to the shelves along the wall, fingering the smooth, brightly coloured jars. "A girl I thought was someone else. We spoke and danced and laughed, and I kissed her beneath the Mandrakes, or maybe she kissed me. I don't recall which."

"Who was she?"

"Ah, see, that's the problem. She's the last girl I would want, and now that I've kissed her - " Draco sighed and rested his head against the shelf. "I couldn't sleep last night because every time I closed my eyes, her face would appear, looking as fresh and loved as it had when I kissed her. And then I would see it change to horror as she saw who I was, and I would see her running from me as if I were the devil himself."

Snape did not say anything, and stared frowning into his cauldron. Draco stood still, eyes closed. He was drowsy, and the warmth of Snape's office and the soothing smells of lavender calmed him. Draco could feel himself fall into a half-slumber, when through the hazy darkness, the image of brown eyes and red hair came unbidden to his mind. Draco saw the pleasure on her lips turn to horror. His eyes flew open, and striking out, he threw the nearest bottle at hand to the floor, where it crashed and splattered.

Snape threw a cloth at the young man. "Clean it up," he ordered. "So why can't you be with this girl?"

Draco stared at him. "She was raised to be my enemy, and I hers," he said. "She could never love me. She knows too much about me, now. She is dangerous."

"More dangerous to your heart, I think," said Snape. "One kiss does not doom you to death. And you have had unrequited love before. How is she different from any other - such as your precious Ravenclaw?"

"You continually chided me for my Ravenclaw," snapped Draco. "You told me to forget her and seek another. And I've done just that, and still you berate me!"

"I berated you for doting on what you cannot have," Snape said sternly. "You say you cannot have the Ravenclaw, and you cannot have this new love. I say what is the difference, one for the other, when the circumstances are the same?"

"They are not the same!" shouted Draco. "She loved me, before she saw who I was! And how could I feel this way for her, when all my life I've been told that Gryffindors are righteous fools, and the Weasleys most of all, blind to the forest and concerned only for the trees? I shouldn't keep seeing the hate in her eyes, or thinking of her running away from me, but I can't rid my mind of the image. She's haunting me, and all I want is for her to be out of my head! I don't want to love her! I wish I could go back to hating her, it was far easier."

A fluttering owl flew into the room, resting on the desk. Neither man moved toward it, and the owl flapped its wings impatiently. It wasn't a stupid beast, and it quickly decided that neither man was inclined to relieve it of the letter tied to its leg. Bending, the owl nipped at the string, and as soon as the letter fell to the desk, it was off and gone again.

Draco could just barely make out the writing on the note. He didn't recognize the hand, but his name was clearly printed in a neat script on the parchment. There was no way to be certain, of course, but he somehow knew that it came from Ginny.

Snape had not once looked up from his cauldron while Draco spoke. Now he looked past the angry boy to his supply stores on the far wall. "Such a variety of weeds and flowers you find in nature," he said, as though Draco did not stand before him, chest heaving with emotion. "Powerful each in their way, and not yet have we discovered all the benefits to every sort of plant in existence. There is no growth so vile that does not do some special good in this world, if prepared correctly. Nor is there a plant so pure that it cannot turn against itself."

"What are you saying?"

Snape looked into Draco's eyes. "Go to her. Reap what you can of this situation. Discover for yourself if it is her love or her name which is vile to you, and make your decision."

Draco nodded slowly, took the note from the desk, and left.