Iuga Sortis (Bound By Destiny)

Ten

He'd stared at her all through dinner, watching as she laughed and joked with her housemates. Sometimes her golden eyes would lock onto his, but she'd break the contact quickly. Clearly he wasn't the only one affected by what had passed between them over three weeks ago after that infamous Quidditch game. Harry still didn't know what possessed him to ask her to stay, but when she put her hand on his shoulder, all the pain and desolation he'd been feeling up until then had vanished. He'd been so far gone he didn't even realize it had been snowing. Instead, he shivered blankly as he thought of how he would survive the rest of his time at Hogwarts without the very thing that gave him joy. The look of concern on her face made him realize he didn't want to be left alone--even when she blurted she was in Slytherin. He knew; he just didn't care. All he cared about was the warmth she offered and her non-judgmental eyes. It was the first time he felt he could be vulnerable and didn't have to be the strong Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and he welcomed it. Being in her arms and feeling her heartbeat felt like the most natural thing in the world. It wasn't until it snowed too hard to be ignored that they'd separated.

And then she saw his scar. It had been dully aching for weeks, and he was so used to the pain he didn't even think about it.

That is, until it she kissed it.

The pain left, along with the coldness he'd been feeling. Harry thought the gesture surprised her as well, for her golden eyes went wide. She stammered an apology and rushed off to the castle. Harry was too surprised to do anything, only registering that the ache was gone and he was standing alone in a snow-filled courtyard. He barely remembered going back to Gryffindor tower. Harry only knew that, for a few moments, he felt safe and secure.

Since then he'd been consumed by classes, homework, and the bitterness of not being allowed Quidditch. He'd exhibited an enormous amount of self-control as he ignored Malfoy's taunts--he didn't want to be banned from Hogwarts as well. The bugger just wasn't worth that. Besides, he was 'her' friend--Roberts's friend.

Harry smirked then. Throughout the whole interlude, he didn't think to ask her first name. At the time, it didn't matter. He groaned, wishing he had asked. It felt odd thinking of her as "Roberts."

"Harry, are you well?" Hermione asked from beside him. She looked at him with concerned eyes, but he noted her gaze didn't make him feel the way Roberts's did.

"Yeah, just thinking about what to go over for the last D.A. meeting before holiday," he lied.

It had been Hermione's idea for Harry to teach students the practical side of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it was the last happy spot of his school life. The meetings were held in the Room of Requirement, a magical room that appeared when it was needed and filled with whatever the person required. They had a pretty good group (Ginny suggested it be called Dumbledore's Army--D.A. for short), represented by every house except Slytherin. Harry felt a peculiar sense of guilt over that; he assumed all Slytherins would naturally be for Voldemort's side. That was until . . .

"It's going to be strange not meeting for the next two weeks," Hermione mused as she cut a piece of turkey breast.

He nodded, though his attention was back on the Slytherin table. This time Draco locked eyes with him and gave a nasty smirk. Harry scowled, stabbing his fork into his mashed potatoes.

"Ignore him, Harry. He's not worth it," Hermione said, patting his arm comfortingly.

"I know that," he bit out. Hermione was a little hurt at his anger, but she took his frustration in stride.

"Don't worry, mate; he'll get what's coming to him," Fred said from Harry's other side.

"Him and the rest of those no-account Slytherins," Lee said with malice.

Hermione frowned at that. "Not all of them are bad. I think Nia is quite pleasant."

The three boys looked at each other in confusion.

"Who?"

"Nia? Angelina's cousin?"

"Oh! You mean the girl who knocked Ferret Boy over the head a few times," Fred said, a smirk appearing on his face at the memory. "Yeah, I'd fancy she would be pleasant!"

"And she is Angelina's cousin," George added.

"But Angelina can be ruthless when it comes to her friends," Fred realized.

"And she is friends with the Ferret," George pointed out.

"So I guess she can't be too pleasant, then, can she?" Lee concluded. The three men looked at each other. "Nope, Hermione. We have come to the conclusion that this Nia person is a no-account Slytherin, ergo, she is a lost cause."

"That is the most childish thing I've ever heard," Hermione huffed. Harry was inclined to agree but kept his mouth shut. "I don't think Angelina would be too happy about talk of her family like that!"

"Every lot has a bad apple. Apparently this Nia character is the bad apple," Lee determined.

"No, she's not," Harry heard his mouth say.

"And how would you know if she is or not? Do you know her?" George challenged.

Hermione saved him the trouble of answering. "As a matter of fact, I do. I met her in the library."

"Figures," Fred teased.

She glared at him. "There is a Muggle saying you would do well to learn--'Don't judge a book by its cover.'" The three older boys looked confused.

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" George asked after a moment.

Hermione looked smug. "Think about it. It's not all that hard to figure out."

Before they could reply, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia entered the hall, muddy from practice. They sat down next to the twins and Lee.

"Is Ron coming?" George asked.

"Poor boy. He's still out there with charmed Quaffles practicing," Alicia cooed.

Harry was barely paying attention to the conversation, his mind back towards Nia.

Well, she finally has a first name, he thought with a grin.

Unconsciously he looked back at the Slytherin table again, and his eyes met hers. He smiled. She darted her eyes to the people around her, and this time she smiled shyly back, looking quickly down at her plate again.

He thought that was so cute.

Where the hell did that come from?

"Uh-oh, I think Harry's thinking of a girl," Fred said loudly, causing him to jump.

"Wha-what?" he stammered, trying to reenter the conversation. The twins were looking at him lecherously, and the girls had soft expressions on their faces. Hermione grinned. "Are you thinking about Cho?" she whispered in his ear.

Harry frowned at that. Though he'd had a crush on the Ravenclaw Seeker since last year, his feelings for Cho had become less clear. He still got that funny feeling in his stomach when he saw her, but the feeling lessened with each subsequent encounter. But that could be because his thoughts had been on a certain second year for the past three weeks.

"Ah! There it is again! That blush! I wonder who the lucky lady is," George teased.

Lucky indeed.

He suddenly lost his appetite.

"I'm going to the Room to make sure everything's in order. See you soon," he muttered, not looking at them as he left the table quickly. The halls were gratefully empty as he walked.

No girl should ever be tied down to the likes of me.

He was a target for Voldemort, and that could bring no luck whatsoever. His mind flashed to the look of fear in Nia's eyes after she kissed his scar. [He wondered briefly if the ache he felt seeped into her at the contact. He shuddered at the thought--he wouldn't wish pain like that even on Malfoy, let alone someone who was trying to help him.

"I must stay away from her," he determined.

Though he didn't know her well, he was overcome with a sense of protectiveness for Angelina's cousin. She had made him feel safe, and damned if he didn't want to return the favor. He forced himself not to think of the meaning behind that as he opened the door to the Room.

"Oh dear Merlin."

It was full of Christmas decorations--Dobby was the decorator.

Guess I'm going to have to get this down before the others get here.

Harry set about preparing for the last Dumbledore's Army meeting before term went on holiday.

Draco watched the Boy Who Lived blush into his plate then glanced down at the girl next to him to see her doing the same thing.

He didn't like that one bit.

"What are you doing, making eyes at Potter?" he whispered heatedly.

Nia's eyes widened, then hardened at his accusatory tone.

"So are you the only one who's allowed to make eyes at a Gryffindor?" she spat back.

Draco felt heat rise into his cheeks, and he cursed. Damn her for being right.

"That's not the point," he muttered half-heartedly.

Nia smirked. "That is the point. But to answer your question, I was not 'making eyes,' as you so eloquently put it. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. It's the Southern hospitality in me."

Draco sniggered. "Yeah, go blame it on your Southern roots. Just admit you're smitten with the Golden Boy. I knew it was only be a matter of time before you would be," he said, surprised by the hurt that seeped into his voice.

Nia's eyes softened as she heard his tone change. "Draco, what's wrong? Why are you so affected by this? How can I like him when I've barely held a conversation with the boy!? It was just a smile."

Draco put his utensils down, his appetite waning. "Nothing's wrong. I think I fancy a walk," he mumbled and left the table. As he opened the door, it accidentally hit him on the nose.

"Bloody hell!" he gasped. He heard laughter echoing behind him, which served to make his mood worse.

"Oh damn! I'm so sorry!" he heard before him.

His eyes were watering, and he couldn't see the face, but he definitely recognized the voice.

Ginny.

"Let's get you to Pomfrey," she said, slightly panicked.

Too overcome with pain to resist, he let her drag him up to the hospital wing and tried to ignore the commands of "Keep your head back!" she kept repeating incessantly.

"Bugger, woman! I know, I know!" he finally grated, though incomprehensible. They walked inside the hospital wing, and she went to find Pomfrey. He sat down on one of the hospital beds, keeping his head back as he was supposed to do.

"She's not here, but luckily I know how to fix it right up, seeing as I've lived with six brothers," Ginny mentioned as she walked towards him with a bottle in her hand. She used the same potion Nia did, rubbing the solution in gentle strokes over his nose. Draco knew he was holding his breath, but he feared if he exhaled Ginny would go flying away from the force of it. His pulse did a tattoo at being in such close proximity to the fourth year. It was only the second time in as many months they'd been in such a state. If Ginny was affected, she had a good way of hiding it; she treated him as a nurse would a patient.

"Thanks, Little Weasel," he murmured, the pain in his nose long forgotten.

"Are you ever going to call me by my name?" She was grinning, and it was infectious.

He grinned as well. "Are you ever going to do the same?"

She looked down shyly. Apparently she was affected, too. She ran a delicate finger down the bridge of his nose as she finished, checking to see if the bones had been mended. Draco felt a shiver up his spine.

"Well, there you are, good as new," Ginny proclaimed.

As if in a trance, Draco grabbed her hand, linking her fingers through his. He kissed her knuckles softly and smirked as he heard her sharp intake of breath. "Thank you, Miss Weasley," he said softly, lips brushing against her skin.

Ginny's eyes fluttered at the sensations he was causing. "You're welcome, Mr. Malfoy," she said, just as quietly.

He stood, his height towering over hers. "How can I ever repay you?" He linked his other free hand through hers and brought their joined hands to his hips. Ginny fell flush against him.

Her eyes flashed at that, thinking this was one of his jokes. She pushed him away, stepping well out of his reach. "Come off it, Ferret! What are you playing at? Do you think trying to seduce me to get at my brother and Harry will work?" she said, her temper flaring.

Draco lifted himself from the nightstand where Ginny had pushed him. "This has nothing to do with Weasel or with Potty. This has everything to do with you and me, and these feelings you're creating within me."

Ginny was taken aback by his admission, not knowing how to deal with an honest Malfoy. "You've--you've got to be kidding me."

"Believe me, Weasley, I'd wish nothing more than to be kidding, but I'm not." He stepped closer to her. Gently, he grazed her cheek with his thumb, and her eyes closed at the contact.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "Even with mud on your cheek."

Ginny smiled and opened her eyes, a blush creeping up her neck. She looked in his eyes, and her breath caught.

"You're serious, aren't you?" she breathed.

Draco sensed she needed to hear the verbal confirmation, and he nodded. "I'm very serious."

"I have a boyfriend," she said half-heartedly.

Draco snorted. "I have no intention of coming between you and your 'boyfriend.'" Not yet anyway . . .

Ginny grinned as she frowned, putting her hands on her hips. "Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?" she asked, half-serious.

"It's me; I'm just tired, you know? I'm tired of being who people expect me to be. I want to be myself, especially around people I've come to care for," he said seriously.

Ginny's mouth opened and closed a bit at that, not knowing what to say. "You--you care about me? But you don't even know me."

Draco shrugged. "You'd be surprised how much you can learn from observing people. I know you're tired of hiding behind your brothers, tired of being 'Ron Weasley's sister,' tired of being generally ignored and tired of being treated like a china doll. You're ready to stand on your own two feet."

She gaped at that. "Am I that transparent?"

Draco smiled softly. "You are to people who notice you." He checked his pocket watch. "You should go; dinner's almost over."

Ginny's face fell, and Draco briefly wondered if it meant she didn't want to leave either.

"I reckon so," she said.

They walked out of the hospital wing side by side, not saying a word until they reached the main corridor.

"Thanks again, Miss Weasley. You do know I can't call you this in public; I have a reputation to uphold," he teased gently.

"I thought you said you were tired of being what people expect you to be?"

He chuckled. "I don't really much care about 'people.' I care about you and a few choice others," he clarified.

Ginny smiled. "I knew she'd be good for you."

"Who?"

"Nia."

Draco's smile faltered slightly. "Yeah, very good." He frowned. "How do you know her name?"

"Now Mr. Malfoy, I thought you said you were good at observing people. Mean to tell me you haven't observed where she goes after dinner just about every night?"

He chuckled again. "'Don't ask, don't tell,' I believe is the Muggle expression."

Ginny's eyes widened again. "I can't believe it--Malfoy quoting Muggles."

"You tell anyone, and I'll be forced to have my way with you." He grinned, impulsively drawing her close to him. They stared at each other for a few moments in a charged silence.

Ginny smiled. "I'll be sure to shout it from the mountaintops, then," she said softly.

Draco's mouth dropped open, and he nearly fainted dead away when he felt her lips place a delicate kiss to the corner of his mouth. He stood there, frozen, not able to move.

"Since I know I won't see you until after holiday, Happy Christmas, Draco," she whispered and left the circle of his arms.

He remained that way until long after she entered the Great Hall.

"Happy Christmas, Virginia," he murmured, a smile adorning his face.