Iuga Sortis (Bound By Destiny)

Nine

Ron was sweating like mad, despite the chill of the November air. Here they were, in the changing rooms awaiting the first game of the Quidditch season, and Angelina was going over the particulars. After two weeks of strenuous practices and taunts and barbs from the Slytherin Quidditch team, Ron was fit to be tied. Harry saw Ron's nervousness and hoped he didn't throw up.

"Ron! Are you listening to me?" Angelina snapped.

Ron jumped, shaking his head to clear his mind. "Uh . . ."

"You better be more alert on the pitch than you are here, Weasley, or Slytherin will run you through the wringer," the Gryffindor captain warned.

Ron gulped.

"Don't worry, mate; you'll be fine," Harry said reassuringly.

Ron just grimaced, his words of little comfort.

"All right, let's get ready to kick some Slytherin arse!" Angelina shouted. The team cheered, Ron only managing a whimper.

"Merlin help me," Harry heard Ron whisper. They picked up their brooms and walked onto the pitch. Harry watched as Montague, the captain of the Slytherin team, tried to crush Angelina's fingers. She didn't so much as flinch. Harry grinned with a newfound respect for the captain. He shot one last reassuring look at Ron before the whistle blew, and he shot up in the air like lightning.

The game was very foul; between the singing of that infernal "Weasley is our King" by the Slytherins and Ron's abysmal keeping of the hoops, Harry wondered briefly if they would make it through this game with a win. He kept his eye upon Malfoy, just in case he spotted the elusive Golden Snitch. He hadn't yet.

This is getting tedious, he thought, letting his eyes drift from his search. He looked to see how Ron was progressing. Harry winced as a Quaffle sailed through the left hoop, just out of Ron's grasp.

"Hang in there, mate," he whispered, hoping the wind would carry it to Ron's ears. Not wanting to see another Quaffle go through the hoops, Harry moved his eyes to the stands. Hermione gripped tightly onto Ginny's arm as she watched Ron, and Ginny grimaced in pain. He bit back a chuckle at that. Hermione was so obvious it was almost pathetic. But then he noticed Ginny's eyes were not on Ron as Hermione's were, but rather on Malfoy. Harry frowned in confusion; they'd have a talk about that later. Moving his eyes away from the Gryffindor stands, he looked to Ravenclaw, and saw Luna's ridiculous lion hat. When it roared, he couldn't help but feel heartened by the sound and started to look for the Snitch again with new resolve. Harry would not let Ron's less-than-stellar keeping get him down.

He finally spotted it down near Slytherins' hoops, and he took off like a bat out of hell, Malfoy in hot pursuit. After a bit of cat-and-mouse, Harry caught the struggling Snitch near the base of the Slytherin hoops. Malfoy's fingers scratched the back of his in vain. Harry brought his Firebolt up from the ground, scanning the stands while flying to the Gryffindor side. As he made his way to his housemates, his eyes locked on a pair of golden ones he hadn't seen in months. She was staring at him intently, inclining her head as if to offer congratulations. For some reason, the gesture made him even more ecstatic, and Harry pumped his fist into the air, only to feel something hard ram into the small of his back.

"Oof!" he grunted, falling off his broom. Luckily it was a short distance to the ground. He rolled onto his back in a daze.

"Are you all right?" he heard, barely recognizing the voice as Angelina's.

"'Course I am," he said, allowing her to help him up.

"It was that thug, Crabbe. He whacked the Bludger at the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch--but we won, Harry, we won!" Angelina reassured him. It didn't help the fire that was blazing at his back, but his pride was at least assuaged.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you? I've never seen a worse Keeper . . . but then he was born in a bin . . . did you like my lyrics, Potter?" he heard Malfoy sneer. Harry ignored him, determined not to let Malfoy's jealousy ruin their win. As he went to shake the twins' hands, Malfoy moved on to Mr. Weasley; they stiffened. Fred inched closer to Malfoy, ready to put him through the ground if necessary.

"Leave it," Angelina said, holding his arm to prevent him from moving in on the Slytherin Seeker. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped up litte--"

Harry would've obliged to Angelina's request, also.

Until the Malfoy started talking about Mrs. Weasley and his mother.

Harry didn't even think as he attacked Malfoy with all he had, determined to leave Malfoy a sodding bloody mess. He was not aware he'd been fighting until he was hit with the Impediment Jinx. Harry realized George had been fighting, too, as his swollen lip provided evidence. Neither one of them said anything as Madame Hooch ordered them to McGonagall's office. Throughout McGonagall's tirade and Umbridge's punishment of a lifetime ban, Harry remained stoic, only answering when forced. They walked out of McGonagall's office without a word, the full force of what had happened not yet hitting them.

"I'm going for a walk," Harry mumbled, his appetite suddenly gone and, with it, the desire for dinner. He didn't want to go the common room just yet, either. He walked off, dejected, not bothering to wait for George's response. Fifth year had officially been shot to hell.

~~~~~

"I have absolutely no sympathy for you," Nia said as she rubbed the potion onto Draco's nose.

She tended to his wounds in Snape's private quarters. Draco refused to go to the hospital wing. He jumped up and hissed in pain, almost catching Nia's chin in the process.

"Watch it!" she snapped.

He glared at her. "Shite! Bloody hell, Little One, that stings!"

Nia rolled her eyes in apathy.

"Language, Mr. Malfoy. Virgin ears . . ." Snape said, looking pointedly at Nia with a hint of amusement.

She cut her eyes at Snape before turning her attention to Draco again. "Don't really much care if it stings. How dare you talk about his mother that way!?" Nia chastised, as she moved from his nose to the cuts on his arms. Draco hissed again, but less loudly.

"He had it coming," Draco mumbled.

Nia sucked her teeth. "Why? Because he beat you to the Snitch fair and square?"

Draco jerked as if he'd been hit.

Snape coughed to cover a chuckle.

"What, are you taking his side? I thought you were my friend," Draco accused.

Nia looked angrily into his eyes. "I am your friend, and as such, I am entitled to tell you when I think you're being a punk," she explained coldly. "Draco, you're being a punk."

Snape laughed out loud, and the two students towards the older man in shock. He simply shrugged. "Never thought I'd see the day when a Malfoy would be put in his place."

Draco scowled. "I don't appreciate your 'humor,' Professor."

"You appreciate it when it's directed at Potter and his friends," Snape replied, arching an elegant eyebrow in his direction.

"Exactly."

"You acted like a child, and you got beat like ya stole somethin'," Nia continued. "You got nothin' more than you deserved."

Draco was nonplussed. "I deserved this?"

Nia snorted. "You better be glad it was only Potter and that other boy, because had you talked about my mother, I wouldn't've been so nice," Nia promised.

Draco absently rubbed his stomach, remembering the punch she threw a few weeks back. He didn't doubt her threat for one moment.

"I wouldn't take that threat too lightly, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said. "I fear she's liable to carry it out."

"No kidding," said Draco, sliding off the stool as Nia finished with him. The potions had done their job, and his injuries were healed--all except for his pride.

"You two better hurry; dinner is almost over," Snape said softly. He stood and walked towards Draco, putting his hands on his shoulders and squeezing in a paternal gesture. "You were brilliant out there today, Mr. Malfoy. Forget about Potter; forget about your housemates; even forget about your father. You did your best, and that is all any Slytherin could accomplish."

At those words, Draco's mood brightened, and he resisted the urge to hug the man who'd become like a second father to him. "Thank you, Professor," he said quietly.

Nia watched the exchange with a soft smile. She hugged her father tightly. "Thank you for saying that," she whispered into his chest. "He needed to hear it."

Snape returned the hug with equal affection. "And I needed to say them. Mr. Malfoy doesn't know just how good of a person he is; it would do him good to hear the words more often," Snape suggested, looking pointedly at her as she pulled away. She smiled and nodded, linking her arms through Draco's.

"Are you coming to the Great Hall with us?" she asked the older man.

He smiled apologetically. "I'll be up in a bit. I have some things I need to handle."

She nodded, and they left the quarters, walking to dinner in silence.

"Did you see that Bludger I sent at him, Draco? It was great!" Crabbe said, as they sat down at the table. Crabbe ignored Nia, and Nia ignored him back, not caring if Crabbe wasn't talking to her.

"Splendid," Draco said flatly, grabbing a piece of steak from the platter before him. Goyle nudged Nia's side, getting her attention.

"What's up?" she asked.

Goyle glanced at Crabbe before answering. "He was a raving lunatic up there, Nia," he said in a hushed whisper. "I thought he was out for blood, the way he was sending those Bludgers. I couldn't stop him though . . ."

Nia patted his arm reassuringly. "I know; I don't blame you, Goyle. You're only doing what's expected of you," she said.

Goyle shook his head. "Ever since . . . You-Know-Who's been back, it's like something snapped in Crabbe. As it is, he's always been the least tolerant of Muggles. Crabbe's gone bloody insane!"

Nia shuddered. Every time she heard mention of the Dark Lord, she got a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. This time was no different.

"So you believe Harry then? You believe he's back?" she whispered.

Goyle nodded slowly. "If you were here to see the look on his face when he pulled Diggory from that trophy, you wouldn't doubt it either." He turned back to his meal at that, leaving Nia to ponder his words. The more she heard about this infamous final task, the more intrigued she became. Why were people so insistent Voldemort wasn't back?

"Earth to Nia," Pansy said, waving her hand in front of Nia's eyes.

Nia grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

Pansy smiled, and Nia thought she was rather pretty when she did. "Where were you? Certainly not here with us, enjoying our company!"

"Just thinking," Nia said absently.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked softly, squeezing her shoulders.

"I've lost my appetite, that's all," she said, putting down her napkin. "I'll see y'all back in the common room." She gave an apologetic smile to her friends as she left, a bit unsettled all of a sudden. For the two months she'd been at Hogwarts, she'd learned about Voldemort through her cousin and the Gryffindors. The Slytherins in her house were very tight-lipped about it, as were her father and Dumbledore. She wanted to know more about this mysterious Dark Lord, and she couldn't understand why.

She walked to the breezeway, realizing it had started to snow. There was someone in the courtyard, and Nia wondered why the person was still sitting there, despite the weather. Curious, she tightened her robe around her and approached the figure.

"Are you okay?" she asked, placing a tentative hand on the person's shoulder. The person didn't start, nor even flinch. The head rose slowly, and she found herself looking into a pair of sad green eyes.

Harry Potter.

She stepped back, his sadness washing over her.

"I--I'm sorry," she stammered, seeing the vacant look in his eyes and feeling the warmth that radiated from where she touched him. She moved her hand from his shoulders, but his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. She gasped at the contact; it was quick, yet gentle at the same time.

His eyes pleaded with hers.

"I don't know why," he murmured, moving his hand from her wrist to her hand. "But I don't want you to go. Stay?"

"I'm a Slytherin," she blurted, not knowing why that would be the first thing out of her mouth.

Harry shook his head, tugging at her hand. "I don't care. I just don't want to be alone."

Nia frowned, her confusion growing. "Do you want me to get Dumbledore?"

He shook his head harder at that. "Just, please . . . stay with me. I don't want to be alone," he murmured again, this time pulling her to him. She was overcome with the urge to hug him, and she did, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her head atop his. Harry hugged her middle and placed his head on her chest. They didn't care about the snow or about the increasing chill in the night air. In each other's arms, they had all the warmth they needed.