Iuga Sortis (Bound By Destiny)

Three

Ginny frowned, wondering what Harry was going on about. She turned around and left Hermione and Ron to deal with Crabbe and Goyle. She cursed the catch of her breath, clearly she was not immune to the sight before her. His platinum blonde hair was slicked back as usual, and his school robes were open, revealing his house sweater, white Oxford shirt, and gray slacks. Though it was a standard uniform, Ginny wondered how someone so bad could make something so plain look so good. Simply put, Draco was gorgeous.

Draco chose that moment to move his attention from Harry to her, meeting his eyes. He smirked.

And he knew it.

"Like what you see, Little Weasel?"

Smarmy git.

"Don't call her that!" Harry said, walking closer to the Slytherin Seeker.

It was all Ginny could do not to roll her eyes. She could fight her own battles, thank you very much.

"Actually I was just wondering when Hogwarts decided it would start accepting ferrets into the school," she said coolly.

Draco didn't miss a beat. "Around the time they decided to let in the litter of weasels, I daresay."

Ginny heard Draco's goons laughing, and this time she did roll her eyes. She grinned slightly, however, when she saw the girl do the same thing.

"Sod off, Malfoy!" Harry snarled, raising his wand even further.

She noticed his eyes kept flicking back to the other girl, and she was staring back just as intently.

"What are you staring at, Potter?" Draco asked, noticing his adversary's attention was elsewhere. He followed Harry's gaze and saw it on Nia. He gave a half-smile and looked back at Harry. "Interested?" he sneered.

Harry made a face, concealing the fact that Draco's barb had hit its mark. "I'd never be interested in Slytherin scum," he bit out.

Ginny winced, both at her own "interested" thoughts of Draco, and at the hardening of the other girl's once-fascinated amber eyes.

"No more than I'd be interested in Gryffindor grime," she spat.

It was apparent to Ginny that the tenor of this "meeting" had drastically changed--the attention was now on the smaller Slytherin.

This should prove interesting, she mused, crossing her arms in front of her.

Ron whirled around, his focus on Crabbe and Goyle forgotten. "Who are you calling grime!?"

"Did I stutter?" Nia asked, jutting her hip out and crossing her arms in front of her; her attention never left Harry. Ginny saw him gulp, obviously at a loss what to do.

"What year are you?" Ginny asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Nia moved her attention from Harry and looked at her. The hardness left her eyes, but only a little. "Second year."

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

Nia gave a chuckle.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! SHE'S THE ENEMY!" Ron practically bellowed.

"Ron! Keep your voice down!" Hermione chastised.

"She hasn't done anything to me," Ginny shrugged.

Nia smirked. "Anyway, enough of this. I'm hungry, and I have to meet Snape in . . . thirty minutes. So if it's all the same to you, I'll be going now." Ginny watched as Nia walked to the Great Hall.

"Wait a minute!"

Ginny was surprised by Harry's outburst, and by the look on his face, so was he. Nia looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he cleared his throat, regaining his composure.

Is that a blush?

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Roberts," Nia replied.

"No first name?"

Nia looked at Draco then turned back to Harry. "Something tells me you won't be using it anytime soon, Potter," she said frankly, and with that, she walked past the group and into the Great Hall without a backwards glance.

Draco smirked and followed her. He gave the trio a mock salute and Ginny a wink. "See you around, Potter." He walked into the Great Hall with Crabbe and Goyle falling in line.

Ginny grinned in spite of herself.

"I KNOW HE DIDN'T JUST WINK AT MY SISTER! BLOODY PRAT!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, storming into the Great Hall. He's not the only bloody prat! she thought, furious.

~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was seething. How dare she have hair like fire, eyes like chocolate, and skin like cream? How dare she grow up and fill out over the summer without his permission? And most of all, how dare he be attracted to a Weasley?

A Weasley!

A measly Weasley!

He chuckled at that rhyme, but it did little to lessen his ire.

"Stupid Little Weasel."

"Don't be mad at her because you have the hots for her," a voice at his side warned.

Draco growled, clenching his teeth in frustration. "I seem to recall a certain second year Slytherin staring pretty hard at a certain Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived."

Nia humphed. "But unlike you, I'm not a lifelong enemy. Though his attitude sure turns off a body, don't it." She broke off a piece of bread and ate it. Draco grunted, not bothering with a response. "So articulate when we're mad," she teased.

Draco threw his fork down in irritation. "This year, I can already tell, will be a pain in my ass."

"Ooh! Potty mouth!"

Draco glared at her. "Shut it."

"Hey Nia, you want that?" Goyle asked, pointing at a turkey breast on her plate. She shook her head, and he snatched it off her plate and put it on his own.

Draco frowned in disgust. "That's your fifth piece of turkey!"

Goyle shrugged. "I'm a growing boy!"

Nia laughed. "Yeah! Around your middle!"

The people surrounding them laughed.

"That's not nice, Nia!" Goyle pouted, bits of turkey oozing out of his mouth.

Nia gave a look of revulsion. "Neither is seeing dead turkey out of your mouth!" she chastised, putting napkins up to his lips

"It's about time someone taught them some manners," Draco said in relief.

"And just what have you been doing for the past five years?" Draco's mouth dropped open, at a loss what to say. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"I don't like you right now," Draco muttered, very un-Malfoy like.

Nia laughed and pinched his cheek. "Aw! You're such a baby!"

He scowled at that, slapping her hand away and holding his cheek. "I'm not a baby."

"Whatever you say, dear."

He ignored her comment and shoved his fork in his mashed potatoes.

"And then I heard he said He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and he saw him come back last year during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I tell you, Potty's off his rocker; Dumbledore, too," Pansy Parkinson said in a loud whisper, hoping her gossip would carry over to the other tables, which it did.

"Yeah, right, You-Know-Who is back. Didn't Potter kill the bloke?" Blaise Zabini asked, pouring pumpkin juice into his glass.

"You know Gryffindors--always entering a job half-arsed," Goyle cracked, who was far smarter than most people thought.

"Personally I think Potter's face scared him away; though I don't see why he'd come back, since Potter only got uglier," Crabbe added. The others at the table looked at them in shock, then laughed merrily; all but Draco and Nia.

"Who is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and what does he have to do with Potter?" Nia whispered in Draco's ear.

He looked at her with a blank expression. "Stick around, Little One, you'll find out in due time."

Angelina Johnson chewed quietly as she listened to Hermione recount their run-in with Malfoy and his cronies.

"She's obviously not from around here. Didn't you hear her accent? It's not even Irish!"

"I don't bloody care where she's from. She had no right to talk to us like that!" Ron muttered and stabbed angrily into his shepherd's pie.

Hermione and Ginny rolled their eyes at each other.

"Finish the story, Ron," Ginny said, glaring at her older brother. "She didn't say that until after Harry called her Slytherin scum, and she didn't even do anything!"

"Taking up for a Slytherin, are we? Where's your sense of House solidarity?" George asked, aghast.

"Yeah! What kind of Weasley are you?" Fred asked as he reached over Angelina's plate for another roll. She glared at him but said nothing.

"A Weasley with a mind of her own!" Ginny exclaimed. "What are you going to do about it, hmm?"

Fred looked nonplussed, not used to this kind of behavior from his sister.

"Whatever happened to sweet, innocent, Ginny?" George asked rhetorically. He tsked at her and shook his head..

"Oh, come off it, you two! She grew up; people tend to do that, you know," Angelina said, rolling her eyes.

Ginny gave her a grateful look. Fred just made a face at Angelina and continued eating.

"You know, they could at least pretend I can't hear what they are saying. They believed me before term let out," Harry muttered, sinking further into his chair.

Angelina felt sorry for the younger boy. He had his whole experience from last year being mocked, ridiculed, or just plain denied. But she was still upset that he got detention for being ornery to a teacher. Keeper tryouts were that week, and she'd hope to have all the current members of the team present.

"Yes well, just be sure to temper your tongue more often; we can't afford for our Seeker to be missing practices if we want the Quidditch Cup this year," she told him.

Harry didn't even acknowledge she'd spoken.

"Let's get out of here," Hermione said angrily, throwing her utensils in her plate. Harry got up as well and Ron followed, though somewhat reluctantly--he was partial to his apple pie. The Hall went quiet as they watched the trio leave.

"People are so damn nosy," Angelina groaned.

"Now, now, what language, love?" Fred said cheekily.

Angelina ignored him. "Alicia, what time is it?"

"Ten till eight, why?"

"I've got to go meet McGonagall," Angelina answered, standing from her place. "She might want to go over plans for the Quidditch season, I don't know . . ."

"As long as you don't turn into Wood, I don't much care what you do, so long as we win," George said, his mouth full of food.

Angelina looked at him in disgust. "Yeah, whatever. See you all later." She walked out of the Great Hall directly to McGonagall's office where the Head of House sat, already waiting.

"Good evening, Miss Johnson, I trust dinner was well?"

"Yes Professor," Angelina answered politely.

McGonagall nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer, and pulled her chair closer to the desk, picking up a piece of parchment from it. She grabbed the glasses that were hanging from her lap and placed them on the bridge of her nose as she read the parchment.

McGonagall frowned.

Angelina shifted in her seat.

"Ah yes," the professor said, finally putting down the parchment to look at the apprehensive seventh-year. "Are you all right, Miss Johnson?"

Angelina shook her head. "I'm a bit nervous, actually. Does this have anything to do with my captaincy?"

McGonagall scoffed at that, waving her hand as if to shoo the idea away. "Heavens, no! I think you'll make a fine captain! I fully expect to see the Quidditch Cup sitting in this office at the end of term."

Angelina let out a sigh of relief she didn't know she held. "Oh thank you, Professor."

"What you are here for, however, is a . . . shall we say . . . familial concern."

A rush of panic overcame Angelina. "What's wrong? Are Mum and Dad all right? They haven't been hurt, have they?"

"Miss Johnson, they are fine. They are not why you are here. This is about your cousin."

"My cousin?"

"Yes, didn't you hear Nia's name called at the Sorting?"

Angelina wracked her brain, trying to figure out what she could've been doing to prevent her from knowing her cousin was here . . . ah yes. "Stupid Fred," she muttered under her breath. During the Sorting, Fred kept transfiguring her braids, turning them into snakes and other creepy crawlers. Needless to say, her mind was not on the newly sorted Hogwarts students.

"Yes, she is here and--why do you look so surprised?"

"I didn't know Nia had magic in her, Professor. I thought she was Muggle."

McGonagall humphed. "Hardly. Her mother was in Gryffindor--a fine student, I daresay," McGonagall said proudly.

Angelina frowned. "But they're Americans."

The professor nodded. "Yes, but that's neither here nor there. Though all children of magical capabilities in Britainget a letter, we also send letters around the world to children with exceptional magical potential. We recruit only the best."

"Ah."

"Well, that is all, Miss Johnson. Seeing as you are considerably older and more familiar with the grounds, I charge you with helping your cousin to get acclimated with the school. Hogwarts can be a bit overwhelming to those new to the wizarding world."

Angelina snorted at that. "No kidding."

McGonagall lifted an eyebrow in amusement. "Yes, so, I have a pass here for you to use my classroom while I am not there. Heed me, Miss Johnson: if I find hide or hair of either Weasley twin in that room, you will be searching for two new beaters, understood?" She waved the pass for emphasis.

"Yes."

"Good." She gave the younger woman the pass. "Have a good night, Miss Johnson. I'm expecting great things from you this year."

Angelina smiled and gathered her belongings. "Good night to you, too, Professor."