Iuga Sortis III: The Beginning

One

He landed on the floor with a dull "thud," his back throbbing with the force of the impact.

"That's the third time you let me do that to you! Pay attention!"

I am paying attention! Just not to this training session . .

"How much does it cost? I need to make sure I have enough money in the Gringotts vaults . ."

"Malfoy!"

"Weasley."

A hand appeared in his line of vision, and he grasped it tightly, allowing the owner of said hand to bring him to his feet.

"What's with you today? You seem out of it."

"Perhaps it's because I'm trying to figure out ways to get you out of it. Do you know how sexy you are in your training gear?"

She blushed prettily and grinned. "Draco!"

"Ginny."

"We're supposed to be practicing wandless magic."

"That's no fun. My 'wand' can surely do magical things if only you'd let it."

"At the rate you're going, I'd have serious doubts about that!"

Draco's mouth dropped open slightly. "Virginia Weasley! I should wash out that pretty little mouth of yours."

She smirked. "I'd like to see you try."

Draco, not one to pass up a challenge, met her request and slammed his mouth against hers. Ginny melted into his kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. After a while, she separated from him and smiled softly. "Has my mouth been cleaned properly?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "For now . . . but I think the rest of you is rather dirty . . ."

Her eyes widened. "Draco! I can't believe your gall!"

"And you say you love me."

She frowned. "Don't you ever doubt that, Draco."

"Never, love," he reassured her with a kiss. His mouth trailed across her cheek to run along her jawbone.

"You're really dirty, love," Draco moaned between kisses. "I plan to give you a proper cleaning." He lifted her in his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Draco . . . you may want to put me down . . . I'm not light as a feather, you know."

"But you feel so good in my arms, love; though I'll admit, I'm trying to figure out which wall is closer to prop you up against."

"DRACO!"

He chuckled as she shook herself out of his arms and stood with a scowl on her face and hands on her hips. "For future reference: never tell a girl if she's put on a few pounds!"

"But the truth elicits such an intriguing reaction, don't you think?"

She glared at him. "It could leave you bollock-less!"

His countenance fell at the threat. "I'll hold my tongue from now on, promise."

"You'd better," she said, sauntering up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I've grown quite partial to that tongue of yours . . ."

He grinned as her lips and tongue met his. This kiss was lazy and slow, allowing him to rediscover every crevice of her sweet mouth.

"I've missed this tongue this summer," he murmured between kisses.

"Just my tongue?" she said saucily.

"Hmm . . . I guess the rest of you as well . . "

"You'd better, because I've missed all of you . ."

Draco and his mother were now staying at twelve Grimmauld Place, ironically a family holding as well as the Order's Headquarters. While it wasn't the palatial mansion to which he was accustomed, beggars couldn't be choosers. As it was, there were good things to come out of it--such as reuniting with his cousin Tonks and his mother with her niece, as well as Sirius and his mother reconciling.

"How was the Burrow?" he asked, placing kisses along the column of her neck.

"Absolutely horrid without you there to use as punishment against Ron and Hermione. They were positively wretched to watch, knowing you were merely a Floo away, so I could do some necking of my own . . ."

"At least you didn't have to watch your mother and her old boyfriend dance around each other every day. I got tired after awhile, but Tonks was good to know."

"I've always liked Tonks."

"And apparently, she likes your brother Charlie, as well."

"What's not to like about a Weasley, honestly?"

Draco shook his head in mock disgust. "I guess if people of my blood have to date Weasleys, I should be grateful it's not your infernal brother Weasel. Leave him to the Mudblood."

His skin began to sizzle where she gripped him, and he separated from her roughly. "Ginger!"

"You know how I feel about that word, Draco."

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. "I won't say it again. Now heal me!" He held out his arm to her, and she looked at it with amusement and indignation.

"Where do you get off ordering me around as if I were a house-elf?! I'm your girlfriend, or have you already forgotten?"

She's not Pansy, you tosser! She's the woman you love!

"I'msorryGinnywillyoupleasefixmyarm?"

"What was that?"

He glared at her. "I'm sorry, Ginny. Will you please fix my arm?"

"I don't know if that was sincere . . ."

"It's as sincere as it's going to get. Be lucky you got that much."

"Be lucky you still have legs to stand on!"

Draco sensed this was going downhill fast. "Ginny, my apology was as sincere as my love for you, even if it didn't sound like it was."

She looked at him for a long moment before pouting and opening her arms to him. He grinned at her and kissed her forehead.

"That was possibly the sweetest thing you've said to me thus far."

"I meant it."

"I know you did, love, or else I wouldn't have healed your arm."

He frowned and looked at his formerly injured arm then back to her. "You're a damn good goddess, love."

"The best part is I'm your goddess . . "

She kissed him slowly, and he placed his hands at the small of her back.

"Uh, when they said 'training,' I don't think they meant for the honeymoon . . ."

Ginny giggled as she pulled away from him, and Draco groaned, sending a menacing glare to their interrupter.

"Jealously is highly unbecoming, love," he said with an eyebrow raised.

"You know, that statement would actually mean somethin' if I liked girls, but I don't."

Ginny laughed at Draco's nonplussed expression and slapped hands with Nia. "That was great!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Where's your boyfriend, Nia?"

She glared at him. "Nonexistent!"

He snorted. "That's not what Ginny told me! I thought he told you--" The sound suddenly stopped coming from him mouth, and his eyes flew to the two girls before him. Nia gave a mock yawn and patted her hand over her mouth. Ginny was biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Draco stomped his foot on the mat and pointed to his mouth.

"Sorry, what was that? You're gonna hafta speak up, love," Nia said, syrupy sweet.

Ginny laughed aloud then and collapsed to the floor from the force of it. Draco glared at them and moved his mouth in a mocking gesture as he began to walk to the door.

"Don't go throw a hissy, Draco! The curse will be over in five minutes!" Nia exclaimed on a laugh. Draco made a rude gesture and approached the door.

"Where are you going? Training's not over yet."

Draco's lip curled at the sound of the voice and the unbecoming name.

The wanker is damn lucky I can't speak right now . . .

He didn't spare the other boy a glance as he walked past.

"Which one of them cursed you this time?" came the amused question.

Draco turned angry eyes to the dark-haired boy. "Go to hell, Potty!" he mouthed then turned and continued to walk.

Harry snickered. "Either way, they both get a great big kiss from me . . . gratitude, of course . . ."

Draco's smile was nothing short of gleeful as he heard Harry slam into the suddenly-closed door.

I think I'm going to like this wandless magic business . . .

It had been two months since the raid and was now three weeks before term started again. When he went back, he'd be a seventh year--something that was definitely bittersweet. There was very little holding him to Hogwarts--especially not his father. Draco really didn't care what the arse thought; Lucius lost that right the moment he put Ginny in danger. But in order to hone and control his powers, he needed to stay in Hogwarts. In fact, there were only three reasons he was returning this year--training, Nia, and Ginny. He needed to train to hone his powers, he needed to be with Nia to help her adjust into hers, and he needed Ginny, period.

Draco knew the raid was just the tip of the iceberg of what was to happen. When the Death Eaters launched another attack, it would be the beginning of the Wizards' War. Voldemort and Pettigrew would not back down, and they would not come unprepared. The Order was doing everything they could, but it was up to him, Ginny, Nia, and Potter to really step it up and save the wizarding world from Set, Voldemort, and their lackeys.

That was why the four of them returned early to Hogwarts to begin training; Professor Roberts even took away their wands upon entering the training room, so they could effectively practice using wandless magic. Of course Ginny was the best--she'd had the most practice thus far--but Draco was a close second. Though Nia showed the earliest in regards to her attack against Crabbe last summer, she was, ironically, the one who had the most difficulty. Harry only did slightly better, but that was because he kept trying to "help" Nia.

The only way you're going to help her is to tell her how you feel, prat! Or at the very least, admit it fully to yourself!

Draco wasn't naïve; he knew his and Ginny's open feelings were a large reason why they were as powerful as they were. He'd admitted his feelings about Ginny to himself well before she first exhibited her powers, and he'd like to think she'd accepted hers for him by then as well. How else could she have healed Potter and Weasel, if not for that? And though he couldn't feel the change after he told Ginny his love for her, he instinctively knew it happened. Love was a powerful thing, and to be in it was an overwhelming experience--especially if it unlocked a magical force that could make an ancient god crazy with wanting it.

That was not to say Nia couldn't do any wandless magic--get her mad or annoyed enough, and all hell could break loose (case in point: his sudden inability to speak)--but the magic needed to be readily available and not dependent on passionate emotional surges. It needed love.

Draco understood Potter's reluctance--Nia was only fourteen--but Pettigrew clearly didn't care about age: The overgrown rat only cared about power and how he could obtain it. Also, what was it his mother said about love?

Love knows no age.

Draco rolled his eyes. For all the fluffiness the comment held, it was horribly accurate, if not necessary. He heard the stories of why Potter survived the first attack from Voldemort, and it seemed the very reason was necessary if Potter was to survive another attack. Only this time, the love would come from someone else. And as much as Potter got on Draco's nerves, he didn't want the Boy Who Lived dead.

It was much more entertaining to annoy a living Harry Potter.

They'll figure it out, eventually. I think those two will have a date with the sixth floor soon.

Then again, they could end up like his mother and Remus--dancing around each other as they had been for the majority of the summer as they suppressed the feelings they still held for each other. The tension between them was so thick one could suffocate in it. He remembered witnessing their first reunion in probably over sixteen years.

"Mrs. Malfoy."

"Remus."

Her reply came a while after his acknowledgment, but it was clear the very sight of him shook her deeply.

"We will protect you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"I know you will, Remus."

The other man swallowed visibly and closed his eyes. "Mrs. Malfoy--"

"I've missed you . . . so much . . "

She clasped her hands together and bowed her head. Remus appeared indecisive, as if fighting the urge to take her in his arms and comfort her.

"I've missed you as well, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Please call me Narcissa . . . or at the very least Miss Black. Don't ever refer to me by my married name. I'm not the 'proper' Mrs. Malfoy in the first place . . ."

"Very well . . . Narcissa . . "

Narcissa closed her eyes and smiled softly. "I love it when you say my name, Remus. I feel warm and unafraid . . . it's so different from when Luc--I mean, he says it."

"Then why did you marry him?"

She gave a wry smile and shook her head but did not answer. Narcissa began to unpack her belongings in rigid fashion, her body shaking slightly.

"Are you going to answer my question?" Remus asked after a while.

"I don't usually make it a habit to answer questions to which you already know the answer."

There was silence for a moment before a deep chuckle broke it. "Just as feisty as ever, I see."

She laughed sardonically. "If I had been, I'd probably be dead by now . . "

"Narcissa . . ."

"I married myself to Satan himself, and for what? For family pride? For posterity? To make my parents happy?"

It was a while before Remus spoke. "I offered you my hand."

Narcissa snorted and closed her eyes. "I couldn't very well take it--not after what Andy did."

Remus looked at the ceiling in resignation. "Because I'm a monster."

Narcissa opened her eyes and glared at him. "Don't say that, Remus. You are kind and gentle. You're the only man I love."

Remus snickered humorlessly. "And that's why you married a man from one of the most prominent families in the wizarding world, right?"

Her eyes widened and filled with tears, but she nodded. "I deserve your hatred and your animosity, Remus. I'll stay out of your way while we're here. Hopefully we'll find a Secret-Keeper, so Draco and I will be out of here. You'll never have need to hear from me again. I did it for almost seventeen years . . . what's another seventeen?"

"Narcissa--"

"Good day, Remus," she interrupted and walked out of the room quickly. He watched her leave the room and sighed heavily.

"You half-human bastard."

Remus jumped at the sound of the angry voice and whirled to face the owner of it.

"Draco--"

The younger man held up a hand to stop his words, his eyes full of ice. "You hurt my mother. I will not stand for it. You will find her and apologize to her, or I swear to Merlin, you will get a taste of what I've been doing in training."

The two men stared at each other without saying a word, as if sizing each other up for battle. "You're not allowed to abuse your powers in such a way, Draco," he warned.

Draco smirked. "Who said I'd be abusing them?"

Remus narrowed his eyes. "You'd do well to stay out of adults' business."

"According to my birth certificate and wizarding law, I've been an adult for eight months now."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Compared to me, you're still a child."

Draco lifted an eyebrow. "And yet, the only one who is acting as such is you."

Remus sighed. "Let's see how big and tough you are once your heart gets broken, Son."

Draco's bravado faltered at the use of the word "son." "What did you call me?"

Remus looked at him briefly before turning away again. "When I first met you, it was in Diagon Alley. Lucius was off doing Merlin-Knows-What, and your mother was shopping--"

"My mother was out the house running errands? Surely you've confused her with someone else," Draco said wryly.

Remus grinned at the comment. "There are many things about your mother that would surprise you to know. She and Andy did a lot of things the old-fashioned way. It was their mother and Bellatrix who insisted on being lazy."

Draco snorted at the characterization.

"She didn't see me, of course, but I knew her scent anywhere. I was confused, however, because there was another scent . . . a softer scent--smelled like cumin, which was odd considering we were in Flourish and Blotts--but it was coming from her direction. And then I saw you. You were asleep on her shoulder, a little bubble expanding and contracting with each of your breaths."

Draco felt his cheeks redden at the embarrassing description of himself. "How cute."

Remus laughed. "I had never seen your mother so beautiful as she was then. She was muttering things to you; I'm assuming they were book titles because she'd read the spine then smile at your sleeping form. She was wonderful with you, and at that moment, I envisioned you as my son."

Draco paused a bit at the admission. "But I belong to Lucius . . . then again, paternity is so fucked up in the wizarding world I could be Dumbledore's . . ."

Both men looked at each other and shuddered at the implication. Remus chuckled. "You are Lucius'. You look too much like him to be anyone else's. But luckily you have more of your mother in your personality . . . and, I'm assuming, a bit of Osiris as well."

"That little thing . . ."

"Yes, that little thing. Are you still sure you wish they taught the Dark Arts at Hogwarts now?"

Draco nodded. "How do you expect to fight what you don't know? Most of the students at Hogwarts are as bright as a brick and wouldn't know the difference between a disarming spell and a stunner if it walked up to them naked dancing a jig."

"Or wearing a dress and a hat as Snape did when he was Neville's boggart."

Draco sniggered. "How I wish I could've seen that. I may have to plant a boggart near Longbottom's desk in DADA to see if it turns to Snape again."

"I think Jamilah would appreciate that more than you would," Remus said.

"Right, but Nia would not and would tell me so in a most painful way."

Remus grinned. "She's like her mother in that respect. She loved him so much, but he broke her heart."

"Much as my mother did to you . . . and both had really good reasons, didn't they?"

Remus looked at him for a long moment before nodding. "Even after all these years . . I still love your mother, Draco; Merlin help me, I do."

"You're the Gryffindor in this outfit. Use that infernal courage of yours and do something about it."

Remus glared at him lightly. "But she's vulnerable now."

Draco smirked. "That's the problem with you Gryffindors--you never know the best time to strike is when defenses are down. Because I tell you, if you think Voldemort is going to wait until we have all our resources, then we may as well hand Nia over on a silver platter."

"One of the Slytherin colors," Remus said with a quirked eyebrow.

"It's his spoils, no?"

"But we're trying to spoil his plans, so to speak. The only thing I want of silver is Pettigrew's hand after he's been given a Dementor's Kiss."

"They have Dementors on their side. Lucius said so."

"We have you four on our side, as well as competent Order members and well-trained Aurors. They're going to get the fight of their lives, and we will be victorious."

Draco looked at him wryly. "Spoken like a Gryffindor."

Remus was about to answer when Narcissa re-entered the room. They stared at each other, and Draco had the distinct feeling Remus forgot he was in the room.

"No," the older man said finally. "Spoken like a man who will do it right this time."

The sounds of footsteps shook him from his reverie, and he continued to walk. Belatedly he realized he never had a set destination. All he knew was he wanted to be far away from the giggling crowd--even if the crowd was only two teenage girls. Suddenly his feet began to feel impossibly heavy to the point where he couldn't even lift them. Draco was essentially rooted to the spot and could only turn at his waist to see who would dare do such a thing.

The love of my life . . . of course . .

Ginny wore a smug grin as she approached, and Draco felt the corners of his own mouth lift. He turned forward again and crossed his arms at his chest. He felt her near him before she even touched him, so great was his link with her.

"And where do you think you are going?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind him.

"Sorry if I don't fancy being made a laughing stock by my girlfriend and my best friend."

"I see you have your voice back."

"Disappointed?"

"You have a sexy voice, Draco . . . it just doesn't do to have it silenced for extended periods of time . . ."

He felt her lips on his shoulder, and he chuckled low. "You're sexy period, love . . it just doesn't do to have you out of my arms for extended periods of time . . "

She giggled and ran a hand along his bare arm. "You're so soft . . ."

"Soft?"

"Yes, soft. Your skin's so silky and smooth and just begging for my touch . . ."

He gripped her legs and brought them to lock at his waist so she was piggyback to him. "You're right, Ginger; it's begging for you. If you unlock my legs, we can go answer its call right away."

"But what about Nia and Harry? Professor Roberts trusted us to be able to train without her supervision . . ."

"We are training . . . for the honeymoon . ."

"Oh, you naughty Slytherin . . ."

Draco felt his legs freed and began to walk, with a new purpose, up seven flights of stairs to the Room of Requirement.

"Do you want me to help you stretch?"

Nia giggled uncontrollably at the question. Though on the surface it sounded innocent enough, she knew there was an underlying meaning to it.

"What?" he asked on a laugh.

She answered after her giggles died down a bit. "Nothin' . . ."

"The offer still stands, you know."

Her eyes darted to his hips then back to his eyes, which widened in surprise then darkened with invitation.

"I've been spendin' way too much time with the twins . . ."

"And you're a Slytherin, remember . . . a horny lot, you are."

"Jealous because we get play, are you?"

"Funny . . . I always thought you were on the reserve team . ."

Now that comment hurt, and she turned her back to him. Not that it mattered--she was facing the wall of mirrors, and she knew he could see her hurt expression.

"Dangit!" she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Nia . . "

"I think you just ripped the band-aid off--roughly, I may add." She sat down spread eagle and began to stretch. Harry sat in front of her and placed his feet opposite hers.

"You've got more flexible since we've started. You're practically doing a full-on split."

She ignored his comment but couldn't help the heat that rose in her cheeks. During the course of the year, she had lost considerable weight--though not enough to ever be called skinny--and as a result gained more agility in her body. The cartwheel she could do at the beginning of last year had been upgraded to somersaults and flips. It wasn't easy, and her body had many bruises to prove it, but the end results were well worth the falls.

"I heard Professor Roberts mention something about flying--"

She snapped up her head. "Flyin'? What's this about flyin'?"

Harry looked at her with an amused expression. "Don't you fly?"

"I like my feet grounded, thank you."

He shook his head in disappointment. "You don't know what you're missing."

"And I'd like to keep it that way!"

"Flying is such exhilaration! Why do you think Malfoy, Ginny, and I do it?"

"You're crazy and not afraid of heights, maybe?"

He looked surprised by that. "You're afraid of--"

"Yes. Terrified. Can't get on a Ferris wheel to save my life."

"Ferris wheel?"

She looked at him askance. "Okay, I'd expect a question like that to come from the lovebirds, but you? You were raised a Muggle for the majority of your life, and you mean to tell me you don't know what a Ferris wheel is?"

"I was stuck in a cupboard most of the time."

She sniffed. "And they say I need to get out more . . ."

"You do . . . this year we'll go to Hogsmeade together . . "

Nia almost pulled something as she collapsed over the leg she was stretching. "What?"

Harry's face was crimson, but his eyes remained on her. "Come to Hogsmeade with me."

"The term hasn't even started yet! And who knows? I may be under house arrest, with what happened there before we left for the summer!"

"Professor Roberts can't keep you cooped up in here forever."

"She bloody well can!"

He grinned at her. "You're cute when you use British slang."

Nia promptly went back to stretching, careful not to make sudden movements. Harry Potter, regardless of the romantic feelings she had for him, still got on her nerves. Only now, it was that you're-cute-and-I-like-you-a-lot-so-it's-okay-that-you-annoy-me-because-at-least-I-know-you-pay-some-kind-of-attention-to-me type of annoyance.

And the punk knew it.

She groaned and moved to the other leg. "What happened to me 'not being ready for your love'?"

He didn't answer, and she thought it was just as well. She talked to Angelina about that loaded comment, but her older sister was surprisingly tight-lipped about it--all the more peculiar. But every time Nia mentioned Harry, Angelina would get a silly little grin on her face which said, "I know something you don't know!" It was all Nia could do not to hex it off her face.

"I'm of the mind that love is like a marathon--you need proper training in order to do well in it."

Nia's reaction was between a snort and a sob. "And after we've run the 26.2-whatever miles?"

"Who said love had to be 26.2 miles?"

Nia looked up and glared at him. "Stop that right now, Harry Potter. You ain't Don Juan, so stop tryin' to be. Perhaps you need to listen to your godfather instead of your best friend."

Harry appeared taken aback, but only briefly, and he snickered. "Ron doesn't know much about women, granted . . . but he makes Hermione happy."

"Yes, and I ain't Hermione."

"Very true."

"And you ain't Ron."

"Also very true."

"So I ask you again, what's your angle with this? Don't play with me, Harry Potter. I may be only fourteen, but I ain't stupid, and my feelings have as much validity now as they would if I were twenty-four."

"I know that, love, but you would think to give me the same courtesy."

She looked at him aghast and sat up. "The same courtesy? Who went to Cho for a rebound because Ginny told him no? How am I to know you ain't usin' me because I'm young and seemingly a non-issue?"

He chuckled. "You're most definitely not a non-issue."

Some of Nia's bluster left at the comment, and she leaned forward to stretch. "I feel like I am. I know I'm young, and Slytherin, and I have a crush, but I would appreciate it if you didn't take it lightly and . . ." Her voice died down as Harry's large, calloused hands enveloped hers as he pulled them towards his body. The action served to stretch not only her outer thighs, but her back as well.

"Mmm . . ." she moaned, feeling her tense muscles relax.

"That good?" His voice was low, and it sent shivers down her spine.

"Yes, Harry, thanks."

He smiled at her and squeezed her hands, and she couldn't prevent the corners of her own mouth from lifting.

"You know, when you ain't bein' maudlin, you're a really nice guy."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically.

She laughed and shook her head. "No, I mean it, Harry. You're gonna make some girl real happy one day."

"That's the plan, anyway."

His look created a feeling she didn't want to analyze, so she brought both of her legs together and began to stretch again. She saw him come closer to her from her peripheral vision, and his hands grasped her feet, pointing them to get the maximum stretch in her limbs.

"Can you touch your nose to your knees?" he challenged.

"Huh," she replied and proceeded to prove she could.

"Good girl," he said, half-condescendingly, half-proud.

"I ain't a dog, Potter."

"Nor a puppy, as you insinuated earlier this summer."

She glared at him and brought one leg to her chest to stretch another muscle.

"Are you stretched?" she asked after a while.

He nodded. "I came down before our schedule session. I was antsy."

She frowned. "Oh? About what?"

He shrugged. "I'm a seventh year--my last year, you know? I'm afraid of what Voldemort and Pettigrew are planning right now."

"Are you afraid you won't be able to graduate?"

"Graduate?"

Nia rolled her eyes. "You Brits are a mess . . . finish school; get that slip of paper that says you can do magic."

"We're doing magic now, aren't we?"

"But apparently it doesn't register because it ain't 'normal' magic, so to speak."

"That's part of the fear I have. What sorts of magic will the Death Eaters use? The stuff they teach here is that normal magic, and clearly Pettigrew and crew won't play by the rules. What if we're not prepared by the time the first curse is thrown?"

"Grandma will prepare all the students as they should be; you have to have faith about that."

"Yes. But what about me--us. We can't do half the things Draco and Ginny are doing. Never thought the ferret would be better at Defense Against the Dark Arts than I . . "

"Ego much?"

"Shut it."

She chuckled a bit as she switched the positions of her legs. "Think about it, Potter. He was raised around it; he would know better than you, right?"

"Yes, but that doesn't explain why they are so much better at the wandless magic than we are."

"Do you mean 'we' or 'you'? I'm new to this magic business, remember?"

"Not so new. You're a fourth year, right?"

"Right."

"Three years ago, I was a fourth year . . . Voldemort finally rose, and I had to fight him . . . Cedric . . ."

"Cedric?"

"Yeah. Tri-Wizard Tournament . . . it was all a hoax to get me . . . he died because he was expendable . . ."

Nia had heard mutterings about it her first year at Hogwarts, but Draco didn't offer any answers.

"And you're afraid that will happen again, something like that."

He nodded and raised his knees to his chest. "And the irony is he was someone I didn't know all that well. Next time, Voldemort is going to go after someone I do know, someone I do care about. He got Sirius once; I'm afraid of who else he will try to get."

"You mean like Ron or Hermione?" she suggested.

Harry made a circle with his head as he nodded. "Them . . . Ginny . . . Sirius again . . . Dumbledore . . . Remus . . . one of the Weasleys . . . there are too many targets of mine he can hit, and I can't be everywhere to protect them."

Nia couldn't help feeling hurt at being one of the people he didn't name, but she suppressed it. "Harry, you're only one person, and all the people you named are more than capable of defending themselves."

He sighed and shook his head. "I know that. I know that in my head. But in my gut, I just have this ache, this constant ache that someone who's very important to me will be taken from me."

Nia stopped stretching and crawled towards him. She sat next to Harry, their backs to the mirror.

"You saved Ginny--you and Draco. She's the strongest one of us, so you don't have to worry about her. Hermione is the smartest witch at the school, and Ron . . . Ron is smart in his own way--if a bit hasty. They'll be fine. I don't know how you feel about Draco, but knowing him, he'll annoy Set to the point he'd want to give him back. Voldemort is scared of Dumbledore, so there you have that. All in all, you have nothing to worry about, Potter."

"What about you?"

She felt her heart constrict. "What about me?"

"I meant what I said to you at the beginning of the summer: you are a target--a vulnerable one at that. What if something happens to you?"

Nia snorted. "Don't worry. I won't be leaving this castle anytime soon. Nothing will happen to me."

Harry shook his head. "Barty Crouch impersonated a professor and was able to turn the Tri-Wizard trophy into a Portkey. This school is not as impenetrable as people would like to believe."

"I'll be under constant surveillance. Draco--when he's not mooning over Ginny--won't give me enough room to breathe, let alone walk around by myself. I'll be fine."

"This year you will be. But what about next year, when Malfoy and I aren't here? Or the year after that, when Ginny isn't here? You have two years when you're alone without us."

Nia frowned at his words. Harry had a point. Ever since training began, it had been the four of them. In two years time, the numbers would go down to one--her alone. She didn't think she would be any worse for wear without them, but Harry's words made her consider the potential vulnerability.

"Do you think me incapable of taking care of myself?"

Harry shook his head. "This has nothing to do with your capabilities. This is about someone having your back. What if the same thing that happened to Ginny this summer happened to you? Malfoy, Ginny, and I won't be there to help!"

She clutched her knees tighter to her chest. "You really think they'd be stupid enough to try crap like that again?"

"Voldemort is nothing if not persistent. He'll try whatever and do whatever to get what he wants."

"And he'll try harder than ever to kill you, won't he?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately. But at least I have people here who are behind me. Do you have any friends outside of Malfoy and Ginny's year?"

Nia frowned. "Not really. I didn't really have any time for outside friends last year because of training. And my friend during my first year here went to Beauxbatons because her parents were afraid of Voldemort's return."

"So you're alone."

She made herself smaller. "Way to make a girl feel good about herself."

Nia felt those calloused hands at her chin and allowed him to point her face to his. "It's not about making you feel good, Nia. It's about keeping you alive and out of Voldemort's and Pettigrew's grip. Promise me you'll make some friends in your year during this term."

"I have people I talk to, Harry."

"Do you trust any of them with your life?"

She didn't answer for a while. "Slytherins don't manifest their friendships in the same way you Gryffindors do. Trust is a precious, if not rare, commodity down in the dungeons."

"Then find a Gryffindor to be friends with--I don't care. I just don't want to get an owl a year or two from now saying 'Nia Roberts has died.'"

"I don't want you getting an owl like that, either."

"Then listen to me, Nia, please . ." He grabbed her hand and linked her fingers through his. She looked at their clasped hands, seeing his larger, lighter hand engulf her smaller, darker one. His thumb caressed hers, and she closed her eyes, causing the sensation to become stronger.

"Did Grandma put you up to this? I know she's not above doing that . . ."

He squeezed her hand. "This has nothing to do with your grandmother, or Snape, or Angelina, or Draco and Ginny. This is about you, making a promise to me, that you will do everything in your power to ensure your safety from Voldemort and Pettigrew and whoever else might want to take you away from me."

She squeezed her eyes tighter at his words. "Away from you?"

He removed his hand from hers, and she barely caught the whimper that threatened to escape. She gasped as she felt him behind her, his long legs on either side of hers and his arms around her waist.

"Away from me. You're my partner, Nia--in training, in knowledge of these ancient powers we have. And I'd like to think, despite all that's happened between us, you're my friend."

I want to be more than that . . .

"Yeah . . . friend . . ."

He squeezed her tightly and kissed her temple. "Am I your friend, Nia?"

She snorted. "There's a loaded question."

"Why is it loaded?"

"Harry . . ."

He moved a hand to grasp her chin again. He directed her face to his. "It's a valid question, no? Do you have a crush on me for my dashing good looks, or are there genuine feelings of friendship and like bubbling under the surface?"

"One of two ain't bad."

"I sincerely hope you're referring to my dashing good looks as the false statement."

She grinned and tapped his nose. "Bingo."

He grinned, and she realized reluctantly he was actually two for two.

Wonderful.

"I like holding you."

Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows shot up at the comment. "Harry . . "

"I know I shouldn't say that, but it's true. It feels like I'm protecting you."

Her eyes began to sting, and she closed her eyes. "You're not playing fair, Harry. You're not supposed to say that to a girl who you know likes you."

"Why not, especially when I like her back?"

The tears escaped her eyes totally against her will; she was unprepared for the admission. "Harry . . "

Nia felt lips at her cheek, and she held her breath. His lips were so soft against her skin, and she felt her body shake. "It's okay, love . . shhh . . . I'm here . . ."

Nia snuggled against him, addicted to the warmth and comfort he provided. "Will you always be here?"

He chuckled into her hair and held her closer. "Try to stop me."