A Powerful and Painful Addiction

Chapter 14: Revelations and Confrontations

"Draco Malfoy has caught the Snitch! Slytherin beats Ravenclaw 220-130! Slytherin will play Gryffindor for the House Cup!"

The cheering crowd went silent except for a few whoops and hollers of praise as Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape charged to the unmoving and likely unconscious Draco.

"Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape are out on the field tending to seeker Draco Malfoy," commented Carlson. "The Slytherin Captain appears badly injured ladies and gentlemen; he's not moving at all. It seems that the Potions master has conjured a stretcher and he and the nurse look to be leaving the stadium with this game's hero."

"Mr. Malfoy, you need to relax. You're going to do yourself more injury," fussed Madam Pomfrey.

Draco refused to heed the nurse's warnings; causing himself to moan in intense pain and suffering as he tried to swing his legs to stand.

"Mr. Malfoy, please," she pleaded urgently, "if you don't cease I will be forced to sedate you until you are completely healed." That had seemed to be the trick. "Now, please lie still while I fetch something for the pain."

"How long have I been in here?" he said in a deep, shallow voice.

"Three days. Now stop talking. You need to conserve your strength." Then, she was gone into the hidden space of her stock room.

Draco gave up his useless struggle to move. He was wounded enough from the beginning, but just surmising about what imperfections his body now possessed that was concealed beneath the blankets made him even more sullen. He dropped his head heavily down onto the pillow with a soft plop, turning his head to the right to the accompanying chair. There, folded in a precise and sharp cornered pile were his school robes with his bag neatly down beside it. Inching his upper body up slowly, he delved into the leather satchel for what he christened 'his book of blackmail': Joely's diary.

It had been in his possession for three weeks now and miraculously managed to sustain himself from reading anything but the first line of the opening entry. When he heard loud obnoxious singing coming from the corridor, he quickly shoved the book under the pillows; the feather head rest safely concealing the item as the doors swung open with a loud groan. Luckily he was behind a privacy curtain so the visitor's identify was unbeknownst to him.

In a quick flash, the covering was roughly opened; Draco's bed now in full view to the person who decided to grace him with her presence.

"He lives! Damn it all."

"Oh sod off, McGill," he ranted.

"How's my little invalid today?" she murmured with a droopy lip.

"I'm not an invalid!"

"So, what's the diagnosis?" she asked cheerfully, snatching up his progress chart from the foot of the bed. "Ouchy," she moaned, "two broken legs.... HA! You are an invalid. It's nothing to fret over, Malfoy, I'm sure that Pansy would be more than compliant to cart you around. Four bruised ribs, yep, those hurt."

Draco rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Moderate concussion, must be watched for convulsions and seizures... and severe abdominal bleeding. Ooo," she winced, "I hope that little Malfoy wasn't damaged. That could ruin you for life. Let's have a peek, whatcha say?"

Before he could fully protest his blankets were at his ankles, his hospital gown at mid-thigh.

"Don't touch!" he growled.

"Oh relax will ya?" She picked the largest bruise upon his right shin and gave it a hard poke.

"OW!" he yelled, jumping slightly off the mattress.

"Touchy today, aren't we? Did that hurt?" Her voices lack of sympathy was as clear as a batch of Veritaserum.

"No, I shouted 'ow' because I was filled with delight when you jabbed my leg! Of course it hurt, you sow!"

"Now, now, Malfoy, there's no need for name calling," she chimed.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?"

"Where's the sport in that?"

"When I get out of this bed -"

"What? You're gonna what? Curse me, hex me; cause my ink well to explode when I open it?" Her eyes widened his humor. "I might have to try that sometime. Do you want to be my test subject?"

"Watch your back," he ground out.

"Didn't your father teach anything about empty threats? Make a promise you can keep for Merlin's sake."

"Trust me," he said, mentally concentrating on the book that lay behind him, "I can keep this promise."

"Oh really?" she questioned with cockiness, leaning against the foot rail of the opposite bed. "And you have proof of your promise should the need for evidence arrive?"

"You have no idea," he hissed, his eyes narrowing in menace.

"Well then, I'm game."

"You'll be hunting game for everyone in this school if they see my proof."

Joely admitted that this was starting to make her wonder. What possibly could he have on her that would send the whole school after her hide? This had to be another empty threat to try and frighten her. Wretchedly, it did seem to be doing its job. She was becoming anxious at the prospect of being hunted by the school.

"Back it up then," she answered to wave his thoughts away from his potential win. "Show me. If it's really that good, then I will openly abandon right now."

"Where's the sport in that?" he shot back. He loved using her words against her.

"All right then, I stay on the challenge. I forgot to mention it the other day but we got a perfect score on our potions project. And I admit that Kelpie fur was the missing ingredient."

"I knew I was right."

"Truthfully, Hermione pointed it out in the comparison tables of thinning agents, so I added it in to the potion. So it's really thanks to her that we even completed the project."

"Bloody Granger," he mumbled.

"And your Mallowsweet plant is dead. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, well actually I'm not, but you should've known that Goyle couldn't tend to a plant when it's obvious by the smell that he can't tend to the task of finding the bath."

"I'd rather have a friend who smells than one who kisses the ground the professors walk on, one with a horrid scar upon his head that refuses to die, and one who is dirt poor and cursed with ginger hair. You call those people friends?"

"Hey!" she yelled, her back stiffening as though a pole had run up her spine. "At least my friends don't hide behind those bigger than them. How many people can vouch that for you and your 'friends?'"

"Granger has her head up her arse with only high marks in mind -"

"Then there's you and your ogre... mates, which includes Parkinson that couldn't find your asses with both hands and a map."

"Potter with his stupid scar -"

"Would your parents die to save your life?"

"Weasley with his muggle loving family -"

"The name Malfoy is still mud in parts of the Ministry while the Weasley's have earned the respect of others while you demand it. I hear they're still investigating your dad. Smart, aren't they?"

"Your father not having the backbone to face Damon so he tucked his tail between his legs, packed up your family, moved here, and is putting a damper on my life!"

"HA! HA! Putting a damper on your life? You wouldn't have a life for my family to put a damper on if it wasn't for me!"

"Yes, you saved my life, everyone bow to Joely's feet and declare her saint," he said snidely. "I am eternally grateful. How many times are you going to use that one against me?"

"Oh shut up! What would you know about honest expressions of gratitude, likely never having been grateful in your life."

"You make it sound like you have nothing, when you have it all."

"Yeah, my life is a fucking bowl of cherries without the pits! I live this grand life that everybody wishes they had! You know what, you pathetic tick? I wouldn't wish my life on anyone!"

"You wished it upon me when you came into my life!"

"You let me in! That was your fault, Ferret! I told you to forget about me and move on. Damn! Every time we fight, I continuously seem to have to bring that point across to you. You'd have though that it would've penetrated that thick skull of yours by now. But alas," she spoke with an amazed look, "I had to say it again. What does that make? - two, three, nine times?"

"Who's counting when it's so gratifying to argue with you."

"Gratifying because I always come out on top?"

"On top of the pile of uneaten crow."

"Sorry about that, Mr. Malfoy," said the nurse reentering the ward. "I had to floo to St. Mungo's on an urgent owl. Oh, Miss McGill," she rang, peering up to see Joely from replacing her apron, "it's time for your next dose."

"Gladly!" she bellowed.

"Here you are, Mr. Malfoy. Take all of it," she commanded. "That's it, there you go. Here you are, Joely."

Draco eyed the bottle that Madam Pomfrey pulled from her apron pocket: black tourmaline. He watched the clear, smoking liquid spill from the top into the cup. His mind whirled with that all too famous million Galleon question as to why Joely would be drinking this potion. It was the very same potion that Professor Neveux had told them about during her first lecture. Draco still had that atypical feeling that her lecture had been directed to him, as though she had known about what he was, well had been consuming. It was the very same potion that he had taken the liberty of indulging in to escape his feelings. Then the next million Galleon question popped up, What color had it changed to, if any?

"Cheers," she bit, raising her glass in a mock salute. In one hefty swallow, it was gone. Instantly, her face twisted into the bearing of ache as she clutched her heart and crashed to the floor.

As best he could, Draco quickly sat up to peek over the his bed's edge. His eyes bulged until his eyelids had practically disappeared into his head, when Joely stood from her puddle on the floor. It was as though she had partially transformed into another. Her brunette hair now wavy and slightly bushy, her attitude by the way she stood suggested that she thought she was something superior and above all. To Draco, she appeared to have become the person she had been several weeks ago when she burst into Defense Against the Dark Arts several minutes late. The same witty grin of a sly fox spread wide across her face.

"Oh how I love the way brussel sprout tasting potion makes me feel afterwards. I think that it's the one thing that I look forward to."

"Yes," commented Madam Pomfrey suspiciously, "Be on your way then, Miss McGill."

When the nurse turned her back, she blew Draco a naughty kiss and winked seductively as she left. Naturally, being a Malfoy and Draco at that, he had to have the concluding word.

"Tell me, Jem. How do you sleep at night with Rawlings's death hanging over your head?"

"Quite well actually," she answered, flipping the back of her skirt hem up at him. "Ah, Seamus, there you are my little leprechaun."

"You're always after me lucky charms," he laughed as they began their song again.

So you're now promisin' the ladies a night of lovin' bliss,
When truth be told you're far to drunk to stand up straight and piss.
So give it up you bloody sods you'll not be gettin laid.
And the sooner that you're out the door the sooner we'll be paid.

So bugger off, you bastards bugger off! (Fuck You!)
Bugger off, you bastards bugger off! (Fuck You!)
Like a herd of bloody swine who refuse to leave the trough
You'll get no more this evenin' so you bastards bugger off.

It was now approximately an hour after Madam Pomfrey had bid him goodnight and retired herself. But Draco lay awake. Wide awake, waiting for that moment when all was quiet, and he could read in peace. Finally, feeling that that event had come, he withdrew his wand from under the camouflage of his pillow, muttered Lumos, and then removed the tattooed book, rustling through the pages to come to a stop at a particularly tear stained entry about half way in.

Getting comfortable with what could be a long night ahead of him, he embarked on his voyage into the book that usually held a female's deepest and most intimate thoughts. He dove into a mission of finding out the most he could about her before she arrived in England.

With his eyes glum with remorse and his stomach lurching in hatred, he forced himself to continue on with the entry labeled "July 18." After finishing, he rubbed his red, itchy eyes and ruffled his hair in apprehension. He thought about the pain that he would be enduring if he hadn't been dispensed pain relief potions. He had been vexed about the cuts leaving gruesome scars, and was bothered with how long until the bruises yellowed and disappeared. But now, compared to what he read, his wounds were superficial. His wounds were on the surface; nothing that really caused him any type of permanent harm or damage. But what he read was a recollection of wounds and injuries that scarred the soul of even the strongest person. Draco had been given a detailed account of an injury that would never heal no matter what lengths were gone to in order to suppress the pain.

Going back to the beginning of the journal, he started with the first memory that had been told. It was about an excited Joely starting what she said was her fourth diary. She was starting a new portal into a world of release that only blank pages could take up. Draco read how thrilled she was on how she couldn't wait for the day when this book would be filled and she would one day long after the finishing date open it to read about her past. He could only wonder if she would ever want to open this back up in the future.

Three hours later and only into mid second year, he had to force himself to stop. When the words became blurry even with the perfect lighting and the aid of designer reading glasses, he knew it was time to cease. Noxing out his wand light and stowing the book back under his pillow, he didn't feel the same way that he was intending to when he began to enter her past. He secured his glasses on his bedside table and snuggled loosely down into the blankets, resting his arms behind his head. The words written in Joely's script were turning inside his head like a carousel. Round and round they went, but becoming clearer and sharper as his eyes closed. He wasn't feeling guilt at having read her journal; he was feeling as though the lack of juicy secrets that hadn't been present was a disappointment. It was disappointing because while most girls wrote about giggly things on cute boys when they were twelve, this twelve year old version of Joely was writing about her already developing problem with Damon.

......................................................

By then end of the week, Draco was declared healthy and able to return to his normal schedule of classes. Having spent every night reading further into the diary, Draco had overslept Friday morning with not having heard his alarm clock. After oversleeping by an hour, he quickly showered, dressed and left; forgetting his bag and books for that day's lessons.

He returned just ten minutes later, when he realized that his shoulder felt unusually light, to find his room in complete shambles and disarray from how he had left it. His wardrobe was wide open and his freshly pressed trousers and oxfords were strewn about the floor. His desk drawers were badly damaged and scattered throughout the room with his papers shredded and covering areas under his feet. His bed covers were removed and lying in a pile at the foot of his bed, while his mattress had been overturned.

Hearing a creak from inside the closet, he tiptoed to the doorway, withdrawing his wand to ready himself to duel if necessary. Standing against the outside wall, he suddenly popped into the closet to find none other than Pansy poking around.

"Oh Merlin, Draco, you scared me!"

"What are you doing in my room? Better yet, how did you get here?"

Pansy's eyes whizzed around the space looking for a quick but reasonable excuse. "I was looking for something." Way to go, Pansy. It's obvious that you're looking for something.

"Looking for something?" he queried suspiciously. "And what would this something be?"

"My uh..." she stuttered, scratching her palms, "my crimson bra. You know," she said casually, "I left it in here a few weeks ago and when I went to fetch it this morning from my wardrobe, it was missing. This is the only other place it could be."

"It's not here," he said sternly. "You won't find any lingerie looming about my room; especially not in my desk which you have seemed to thoroughly muck up."

"Right then, all right. I'll just be going," she said in a rushed voice as she zoomed past him.

Standing back in the main room, he waved off the mess with his hand and decided to freshen up the room later. A thought quickly revealed itself. Maybe Pansy knows about the diary? Maybe she saw me reading it one day? Stepping over everything, he made his way to the disheveled mattress and reached into the slice at the top; pushing his hand around inside the fluff to check to see if it still remained hidden. Thankfully, it was still there, safe and sound.... For now that is. Magically sealing the opening and marking the spot, he left once again, but this time with forgotten bag and books.

"You'd think that after all that time you spent in hospital, you wouldn't still look half dead," commented an extra curious looking Blaise as Draco sat down opposite him.

"I'm not in the mood, Zabini," said Draco harshly, grabbing a piece of toast.

"So, tell me what your first near death experience was like?"

There was only one word that would suffice. "Painful."

"Painful?"

"Morning," said Pansy happily, sitting down next to Draco as if nothing had happened.

Malfoy acted as though he hadn't taken notice of how Blaise shot his eyebrows up quickly when Pansy sat down, as if he was asking a silent question. He also feigned in noticing when she shook her head in tiny, jagged movements, suggesting a stiff no. However, he did attain that whatever Pansy had been doing in his room was a scheme that had been concocted by the both of them. Acting the oblivious fool, he helped himself to the nearest plate of bacon to lead them off.

Hearing the calls of the incoming post, everyone's heads turned upwards, searching for a bird that might be of recognition to them. Packages, letters, and rolls of the Daily Prophet dropped into the hands of their rightful owners. Shrilling voices echoed as a few students had even received the dreaded red enveloped Howlers.

Draco was more than stunned to see his mother's owl swooping down to him. Gently dropping his package, Persephone took perch atop Draco's shoulder after he gave her a thankful stroke on her beak.

"I guess Mother has been shopping in Hogsmeade again," he said, removing the brown paper and twine.

"Why is that?" asked Pansy.

"Because if I'm right," he said, removing the lid, "which I am, this is a sweet box from Honeyduke's."

"Oh," commented Blaise slyly.

"This must be fudge. Yes it is." He was pulling out the Honeyduke's decorative tin when noticed the card at the bottom of the box. He attempted to open it, but found it to be magically sealed. Pansy in turn called his attention to inside the box where a message was stating his directions.

"'You must eat three pieces of fudge before the card will open.' Cleaver one, Mother."

Doing as instructed, he popped three or four pieces into his mouth, and watched the envelope glow in a blue hue as the seal was broken. Before opening the card, he quickly gulped down a few good swallows of water and moistened his lips with a sweep of his tongue. Funnily, his mouth had become very dry.

Morning, Draco darling,

If you are reading this letter, then you have undoubtedly read my message at the bottom of your box and ate three pieces of fudge. I hope you enjoy them. I know how you adore Honeyduke's fudge. Do eat more as you continue. But then again, by now, your lips should have or are in the process of shrinking to a small size, no doubt prohibiting you from conversing. What a shame, huh? Of course, I didn't really mean that, you should know well enough by now when I'm lying. But in case my script is a brilliant actor... yes, I am lying and your mouth being closed for repairs is a wonderful thing.

If you will turn to the contents statement on the side of the box, you will notice that I have added an ingredient of my own; a special little ingredient that will surely make your day all the worthwhile. Yes, you read correctly, so you may cease your mind from thinking that you were becoming illiterate, there is indeed Alum in your favorite Honeyduke's fudge. You see, my darling Draco, Alum shrinks porous substances, closing them off. In other words, it is closing your mouth off from the rest of the world. By now I am sure that you've tried to pull your lips apart and have been unsuccessful, you are now mute for the time being. Nasty little bugger, aren't I? This is a warning that you better keep your damn mouth shut!

Deepest regards, Joely E. McGill

Draco tried to open his mouth repeatedly, but, just like she had said, it was shut entirely. He couldn't even force his tongue through his lips. Diverting his eyes to her, she poked her head from behind her letter to smile and wink at him.

"Give me that!" shrieked Pansy. Her temper flared as she read where Draco had left off. "'P.S. There is no point in trying to magically reverse it, it won't work. It will wear off in a few hours.' That stupid flippin' cow!"

In a state of fury, he glanced back at the Gryffindor house table to see her leaving with the rest of the snub-nosed professor's pets. He was steaming out the ears in rage. She was pushing her limit and he was sick and tired of her all together at this point.

He walked into Transfiguration to see animal cages lining the walls and completely covering Professor McGonagall's desk platform.

"Look at all the ferrets," said Joely loudly.

"Looks like a family do," snickered Ron. "Why weren't you invited, Malfoy? Are you the black ferret of the family?"

With a quick and witty remark of the tip of this tongue that was ready to explode from his mouth, he stretched his lips to jut it out, but his gob wouldn't open.

"That is quite enough, Mr. Weasley," said McGonagall as she entered and practically slammed the doors shut. "Mr. Malfoy, are you all right? You seem a little pursed around the mouth?"

Draco shook his head knowing that he couldn't talk.

"Mr. Malfoy, I asked you a question, now answer me."

"He can't, Professor McGonagall," interjected Pansy.

"Oh cripes," muttered Joely.

"It's her fault!" she yelled, pointing a ridged finger at Joely.

"Please explain, Miss Parkinson."

"She sent Draco a box of Honeyduke's fudge and she put alum in it!"

"And how do you know it was Miss McGill?"

"Because she sent him this." Pansy handed McGonagall the letter.

"Shit!" Joely whispered, turning her face away.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Miss McGill? What Miss Parkinson has given me is solid, incriminating evidence."

"Um..." she stuttered under the professor's deadly gaze.

"Both of you will report to the staff room after dinner. You are not children! This has gone on far enough! Your families will be notified immediately. Now sit down!"

After McGonagall stormed past, Joely reached into her robe pocket and pulled out a tube of cherry lip balm and slammed it down into his hand. "Just in case your lips get chapped."

"Sit down, Joely!"

..........................................

"Hermione, we're going to get caught," said Ron as he hastened his step to meet with Hermione's walk.

"Hush, Ron, we're not going to get caught. Go back to the tower if you want to, but I want to hear this."

"Explain to me why we're spying on this conversation," said Harry.

"Because I have to know what Malfoy says. Something is not on about this whole thing, and I want to know what is awry."

"Why?"

"Hush up, we're nearly there."

The trio eased up to the door, finding it closed as Hermione had predicted that it mostly likely would be. She took out three fleshed colored strings from her pocket, handing one each to Harry and Ron. The boys looked at her quizzically, wondering where in Merlin's beard Hermione had gotten her hands on Extendable Ears.

"Where did you get these?" whispered Harry, amazed.

"From Ginny, I think Snape is talking."

..................

"Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and I," said Professor Dumbledore smoothly, "have called this meeting to hopefully settle this animosity between the both of you for good."

Dumbledore was seated at the head of the table like always, Joely and Draco opposite each other with their heads of house behind them. McGonagall appeared exceedingly sour and ready to toss both of them out, while Snape appeared perturbed beyond his usual standards.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, would you like to speak first?" he asked calmly.

Draco shook his head.

"Miss McGill?"

She too answered no.

"Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes, Albus, I would. We are fully aware that this is not the first time that your childish antics and pranks have been pulled. Mr. Malfoy's encounter with a bath of Silver Nitrate was your doing, Miss McGill?"

"Yes ma'am," Joely answered.

"And Miss McGill's fusion with a Permanent Sticking Charm was you, Mr. Malfoy?" questioned Snape with heat in this voice.

"Yes, Professor," he answered.

"Would either of you care to tell me why this going on?" asked Dumbledore.

"Because she's a crazy wench!"

"Piss off, Malfoy!" Joely yelled.

"Miss McGill!" reprimanded McGonagall. "You will watch your language."

"It's all his fault!"

"My fault?"

"You kissed Pansy!"

"Oh, God, here we go again," Draco groaned.

"Then, it took you until Halloween to apologize!"

"For Merlin's sake, Joely, it's March! That was back in September!"

"And even after you apologized, you turned back into the same brat!"

"That wasn't my fault! It was that bloody potion that Madam Pomfrey gave me!"

"Oh sure, blame it on the nurse who is there to make people feel better! Not turn them into heartless, curmudgeon, abhorrent monsters!"

"So now that you've used all the words in your vocabulary, you want to let me talk? She gave it to me after you blatantly refused to talk to me. You didn't make things any better by refusing to come out of Gryffindor Tower that weekend. I went looking for you everyday to talk it over with you, but you chose to stay shut up! You're to blame for this too! In fact, you're more to blame then me!"

"I went against all the rules that I set for myself and told you that I was cursed. That was fine and all, you genuinely seemed to want to help me. Christmas was wonderful--"

"You ignored me whenever Tyler was around," Draco brought forward.

"I saw you everyday at school and everyday before he arrived. Christmas the first time I had seen him since we moved, Draco! What are you jealous or something?"

"Of that pathetic sod? You are mad!"

"You never once told me about your betrothal! You should've seen the way that you were acting with her! It was like you turn were joined at the hip, and later on in other places no doubt! I wanted to burst in there and rip her limb from limb!"

"How the hell did you find out about that?" he ranted, banging his fist on the mahogany table.

"I was there, Malfoy!"

"Where? Out in the corridor?" he said with a startle.

"I was outside the whole time, right by the windows! I heard everything both of you said!"

"It was freezing out there, Joely! There was a huge animal roaming around out there, you could've been eaten alive and I would never have known it! Wait," he paused, the light bulb going on with a high-voltage surge of power. "That's why you wouldn't talk to me at Christmas!"

"You're quick. Took you long enough."

"How in the bloody hell was I supposed to know that? You wouldn't talk to me, Jem!"

Neither battling students took notice to a beaming Transfiguration professor, one nodding headmaster, nor one annoyed Potions master as they continued on.

"You should've told me about Giselle," Joely rebutted.

"You didn't tell me about Damon."

"I can't tell you about him, that's part of the control of the curse. If I can openly tell the person that could do something about it, that leaves openings for it to be removed!"

"You should've fought against the pain and told me."

"You shouldn't have slept with Amanda! You know how much I hate her."

"I thought you had slept with Tyler and I wanted to revenge that."

"You should know me better than that by now, Malfoy. That is disgusting to think about! He and are nearly blood."

"Why did you come over that day?" he blurted out, changing the subject in a direction that was more in his favor.

"I wanted to apologize for being such a bitch and see if we could start fresh. But imagine to my surprise when my arch enemy, next to my asshole ex-boyfriend, walks out of your bedroom, in the same dress she had worn to my family's New Year's Eve ball none the less! To top it all off as if that's not enough, your mother said that you hadn't left your bedroom since the ball! Do you have any idea what a blow to the stomach that was for me to have heard when I found out why?"

"You don't need to bring it up. I remember it quite well, thank you."

"Funny thing is, I was willing to forget to all about your little escapade," Draco rolled his eyes at her, "and try to work it out with you."

"All holiday you kept implying that you had been fooling around with Blaise at school."

"And it did its job by getting under your skin, didn't it?" she said coyly. Draco took a heavy breath signifying that his answer was yes. "I was more than willing to talk with you about it and let it all go, Draco. I wanted more than anything to start over with you because I needed you. I needed you in more ways that you could imagine. You have a piece of me that I refused to give away after Cody died. You were different, you were persistent, and you went the distance. I wanted to give it to you, and I did. Little did I know you would stomp on it the first chance you got."

"So what's changed?" he asked calmly.

"You hit me," she answered with a tremble in her voice.

Draco looked down at his right hand to feel the palm and fingers sting again in remembrance of that day. The whole fight blew back into his mind like a raging thunderstorm.

"Do you remember on the train here when I told you that I dated a guy that was abusive?"

"Yes," he said solemnly.

"Do you remember what you told me after that?"

"I promised you that I would never do that to you. My father hit my mother a few times and I swore I would never hit a woman."

"My heart broke when you hit me. They say the first hit from anyone is the worst. They were wrong, the hit from you was the worst one ever. My heart didn't crumble, it shattered; shattered with the pieces scattering so far into the wind until there was no hope of collecting them and putting me back together."

Draco didn't know what to say to that. There didn't really seem to be anything he could say to bounce back. He had once again broken a promise that he had made with himself.

Before Voldemort's defeat, countless times, Lucius had ordered Draco to sit in while he argued with Narcissa. He said that it would show him how to deal with women that were disrespectful. Draco always just sat back the few times that Lucius had actually hit Narcissa. Every time but one; one time he had fought back for his injured mother. His belief in the higher power that protects people was lost beyond the line to which things never return when he woke up in one of the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, chained to a freezing wall and stripped of all his clothes but his trousers. Over the course of four days Lucius repeatedly mentally beat and starved Draco, leaving him for death or the rats one, to teach him a lesson about superiority and obedience of those above you.

He had awoken a week later after his release to see his mother nursing him back to health. He had been so cruel for never fighting back for her before and yet she tended to him instead of a house-elf. After all the contempt he reflected upon that had been dealt out to his mother, he vowed that he would never bring that to the one he loved. Lucius may have listened to his wife, but he did not exactly respect her entirely. Narcissa had not known of his new commandment, but she asked the same of him.

"Promise me, Draco, that you will never treat a woman the way you have been shown. Promise that you will respect her and love her for everything that she is and everything that she does. Never hit, never beat, and never injure."

"I promise, Mother," he answered truthfully.

"My first course of action was to retaliate against you. So I did and you became the human grape."

"And I revenged you with my sticking charm."

"You wouldn't keep your mouth shut about Cody. That was always your way of getting back at me and you used it constantly, so I attacked with the fudge."

Draco took a moment to reminisce everything. Listening to the crackling fire helped him put all the pieces together. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Joely took a deep calming breath. "I don't hate you, Draco. I hate who you are. I hate the image you force upon everyone. You think you have to display to people that you're a Malfoy with money and power, not a person that is capable of feelings. I hate you for wanting to be horrible to people instead of showing an ounce of what you call friendship unless there's something in it for you. I hate that you can't be who you really are."

"This is me, Joely! This is who I am! You can't change that, I can't change that! I am my father's son so I am like him. You don't seem to realize that he is in my blood, this was how I was raised. I know who I am. I think you're the one that has the hard time letting it sink in."

"You can change it, Draco! Go against it all! Be who you want to be. Be who you were this summer."

"I was nothing but a weak, pathetic, vulnerable person that you took advantage of. You threw all your problems off on me!"

"You weren't weak and pathetic, you were human! You asked, and I felt so comfortable with you, I thought you would understand! Don't push your attitude change off on me, you prick!"

"This never would've happened if you hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor!" he actually screamed.

Joely stood up quickly to belt out her retort, but stopped when it all fit together. He was right. If the Sorting Hat had placed her in Slytherin, he wouldn't have stormed up in the Astronomy Tower and hurt his hand because McGonagall had announced that she was a Gryffindor, which in turn wouldn't have put him in the infirmary, ergo, he wouldn't have gone off looking for her and kissed Pansy.

"I do believe that Mr. Malfoy has pin-pointed the problem," said Dumbledore. "But that does not let either of you off the hook. You will both serve detention tonight. Report to the Charms classroom, you will serve it for Professor Flitwick tonight. Both your families are aware of this as well. Any further infractions and you both will be expelled, no questions asked. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," they spoke.

"Off you go."

...............

"Go! Go!" whispered Hermione quickly to Harry and Ron.

"So this means that Joely and Malfoy really would've been closer together is she hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor," said Harry when they neared Gryffindor Tower.

"I guess it does, Harry."

"So Joely really is supposed to be a Slytherin," said Ron.

"But she isn't though, is she, Ron?" reasoned Hermione.

...............

"Headmaster, is it possible to change Miss McGill's placement before this gets entirely too out of hand?"

"I'm afraid not, Severus. I do not think it would be wise to do so even if it was possible. Who are we to change fate? She was placed in Gryffindor for a reason. It is just as Hagrid said, 'she has the blood of a Slytherin, but the heart and soul of a Gryffindor.'"

"The founders created the Sorting Hat to prevent this very problem, Severus," said McGonagall.

...............

Draco lagged behind Joely by at least a corridor or two, all the while staring at his hand again as the stinging returned. The sensation tingled up his arm, across his chest and swallowed his heart. Physical pain he could handle, emotional pain (If that is what this is.) was entirely different. Whenever he had felt the onset of this feeling, he immediately reached for the phial of "Careless Concoction" as he had so rightly named it. But after he had learned what it really did from Professor Neveux, he poured the remaining liquid down the toilet and smashed the phial; vowing another promise to himself to never take it again. Am I going to break this promise too?

He turned down the Charms corridor to see Joely staring down at the floor. Within a few steps of her, he noticed that she was staring very intently at the swamp left by the Weasley twins the previous year. The surface was covered with a thick, brown muck with putrid green mold sprouting from it. Occasionally the liquid mass would plip and plop as bubbles would burst through the gooey crust.

"Has this always been here?" she asked Draco as he stopped beside her.

"You mean to tell me that you've never noticed this before?" he said sarcastically.

"I always come from the other direction."

"Well then you should better acquaint yourselves," he laughed, shoving Joely into the bacterial infested creation.

Joely had been under the surface for at least ten seconds when she broke through the top, gasping for clean air. Draco squatted down near the edge as she continued to hack out the nasty liquid that filled her mouth. She wiped the muck from her face to stare at him when he laughed with a low snort.

"Do you have any idea what is probably growing in this thing!" she hollered.

"More than likely infectious and possibly deadly strains of bacteria, flesh eating sludge, maggots - maybe even people or animals. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Mrs. Norris lately. She could very well be in there," he taunted.

"Shut up, Malfoy, and help me out of this mess!"

"I have a detention that I shan't be late for." He pushed her back under the surface and left, whistling cheerfully, almost enough to click his heels.

"Malfoy!"

............

"Miss McGill, you're five minutes late. What is that grime all over you?"

"I'm sorry I'm late but..." 'Anymore infractions and you both will be expelled' "I tripped over a loose stone on the floor and fell into that swamp thing."

"Ingenious mark left by the Weasley twins Fred and George last year. Let's clean you up, Scourgify. That's better, eh? Now, Mr. Filch has taken ill and the marble staircase and the entrance way must be cleaned. Deposit your wands in this," he said, placing a box atop his desk, "and here are your tools."

Draco looked at Flitwick as though he should be occupying the insane ward of St. Mungo's, while Joely hung her head in disgust. Professor Flitwick had given each a metal bucket and toothbrush.

"Your cleaning supplies are in the broomstick cupboard near the entrance, along with the tap to fill your buckets. I've been advised that under no circumstances are you to leave until it's done... Ooo!" the Charms professor squeaked as lightning seared the sky and thunder crashed, "you best be getting started."

In the short time that followed as they proceeded to the staircase, the storm picked up in intensity. The wind howled like a werewolf at the moon, the shrill echo reverberated off the walls of their eardrums. As they exited the broom closet with their sudsy buckets and toothbrushes, Flitwick was hobbling towards them.

"Teamwork, students. Teamwork will get this done much quicker." And he left again, leaving the two to their duty.

"I hate teamwork," groaned Draco.

"That's not surprising."

As they were halfway down the steps, the doors burst open. Joely and Draco glanced behind them, their hair blowing everywhere and their buckets nearly spilling over from the gale force winds, to see two sopping wet and muddy Quidditch teams filling into the entrance way. Paying no mind to the two cleaning maids, the players flung mud off themselves and onto the walls, nearly covering every square inch of the entrance way floor. Mud! Mud and water hid the stair they were in the process of cleaning, and the nine that they had already scrubbed to a shine. Joely smacked her head against the railing in aggravation while Draco threw his toothbrush down the staircase.

"What are you two doing?" asked a dripping Anthony as he and an equally soppy Terry walked into their view.

"Malfoy and I are treasure hunting," she hissed.

"Treasure hunting? Inside the school?" Terry questioned.

"We're cleaning the floors, you dolts!" shouted Malfoy.

"Oh," Anthony replied taking note of the cleaning buckets, then staring around at the mud on the floor and at what was falling off him and Terry as Joely raised her toothbrush. "I guess that we better leave you to it, yeah?"

"You could've helped us out, Goldstein, by maybe throwing a little cleaning charm our way!"

"Damn it!"

Draco huffed in agreement with Joely.

"Tell you what. You work on the entrance way and I'll fix up the stairs. Whoever finishes first will help out the other. Deal?"

"I can't believe that I'm having to scrub floors. This is house-elf and servant's work."

"And what do you think Filch is? Someone who volunteers because it thrills him to clean so much?" she griped.

"Do not go on about that SPEW thing with house-elves and cleaning. I've had quite enough of that from Granger! Try and see things my way, McGill. I've never had to clean a floor in my life, and never will after this."

"I am trying to see things your way, Malfoy," she said almost sincerely. "But I can't get my head that far up my ass!"

"Would you like me to assist you?" he chided.

Joely couldn't think of a witty comeback. Her mouth moved up and down in trying to speak something that would get under his skin, but it was useless. "No," she said finally.

"Ten seconds," he smirked, "not up to your usual standards."

"Shut up!"

Three hours later, they both stood at the top of the stairs admiring (if you will) their work. Both being far too exhausted to retrieve their wands from Flitwick, they both set about in the same direction for their houses. Joely started up the second set of steps when it decided to change on her. Now, because of this blasted staircase, she was going to have to go around the long way to get back to Gryffindor. Too tired and lazy to do such, she set back down the stairs and aimed for the prefect's common room.

Coming to a cross section, she saw Malfoy staggering in exhaustion towards her from the left. Deciding to be friendly for a change, she waited until he met up with her.

"I thought you were going to bed?"

"I am," he said.

"Your common room isn't this way."

"Neither is yours," he commented slightly snidely.

"My staircase moved and I didn't want to go around the long way plus climb all those stairs to my dorm, so I'm gonna crash in the prefect's common room," she sighed with heavy eyes.

"So am I. Too many twists and turns to remember," he yawned.

"Nuntius Tacitus," she said to the portrait.

"What does that mean?"

"Silent messenger," she answered, lighting the fire in the cold space. "Scoot over; I'm not sleeping in the chair."

Joely curled up against the left side of the couch, while Draco literally rooted himself to the right with his feet propped up on the coffee table. After a thorough reaming out between the two of them, five hours of cleaning, and the clock striking two, both were sound asleep.

............................................................

As March waned into April, the air around the school brought about a sense of foreboding. The lake seemed to lack its original luster, no matter how murky it had been before. Even the squid appeared less than enthused about its normal backstroking across the body of water. The flowers were without their sweet scents, the school vegetable patch was not sprouting as planned even after Professor Sprout intervened; even Fang seemed to be without the blossoming spring spirit that brought about the promise of birds to chase.

Things really started to heat up as classes went however.

"Today," said Professor Neveux, "we are going to hone in on our strengths with the elements. Since I only see you sixth years once a week, and for only another three weeks, I've asked that all four houses meet together from now on. I have assessed from your birthdays and from my watching of you, the talents in which you hold regarding this magic form.

"First I want to separate you into your respective groups. I am going to assign each group to a point of this circle that I have drawn on the floor. Now, this is not a scared circle but beware the smaller ones I move you to for demonstrations and practice are, so be mindful and give them your full respect. Now, many of you have more than one element that you fit into, but I have put you where your power resides the highest. Group Spirit: Ernie MacMillan, Vincent Crabbe, Lavender Brown, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Harry Potter at the point of the circle. Earth, I need, Tarrah Loughlin, Neville Longbottom and Anthony Goldstein, and you will be at the top left representing the North. Yes, that's lovely. Air I need Terry Boot, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Ron Weasley with you on the top right side here guarding the East. Group Fire is Susan Bones, Gregory Goyle, Seamus Finnegan, and Hermione Granger here at the bottom right with the South. My great-grandmother's name was Hermione and was a fire as well," Jasmine smiled. "And Water will be at the bottom on the left here protecting the West and you are Dean Thomas, Joely McGill, and Padma Patil." She then inspected the groups and nodded in satisfaction.

"Trés bon, now, I want to give everyone a little insight behind the history of these elements and what you are dealing with in your craft. All of you know that Elemental Magic involves invoking the elements of Earth, Air, Fire, Water and Spirit. Now, my elemental study is based on Wicca while you students study witchcraft. I must warn you that the same rules of respect apply to this form of magic. Give it the same reverence you give your spells and charms. Does anyone know about the Pentagram? Oui, Miss Granger."

"The Pentagram is a five pointed star that represents all that is within us. The five points represents the four elements of Air, Earth, Water and Fire, and Spirit as the fifth element commanding to the top. The Pentagram is the symbol of the magic that a person who can fully understand the symbol, and use it, can work magic as they recognise and utilize the elements of nature in balance with, and mastered by the spirit."

"Magnifique, very good work! You explained that better than my professors. I think points are most definitely merited."

"Ten points--" Scott began, but paused when Jasmine raised her hand in an "up" way, suggesting more, "fifteen points to Gryffindor."

"Earth in all forms of magic, play a vital part as one of the five elements. Usually, it is used in conjunction with the other four with major magical rituals and acts. Earth generally corresponds with the North, which is represented at the Northern point, which you can see is the top left, in a magic circle from where Earth is invoked. Earth is one of the two elements that correspond with the feminine, the other Water, and so it is passive. The element Earth is with the physical plane, and is the element to work with regarding earthly matters of physical work, career, financial matters and knowledge.

"In magical use, Air, which is sorely taken advantage of, corresponds with the East. It is one of two elements that is associated with masculine, the other being Fire. Air can be a difficult element to work, particularly with those individuals who work with its elemental opposite Water. Now, the downfall sides of Air include frivolity, inattention, bragging, arguments, and all forms of storms including tornadoes and hurricanes. Now everyone has been known to brag and argue but I don't think anyone here has ever conjured a storm, but thus the reason we all have Air in us.

"Now Fire is the element that especially demands respect," she said firmly and pointedly, walking the length of the room and back. "It demands respect because as it burns, it destroys, but also cleanses and opens paths for renewal. Take the Fire ceremony into consideration. The fire wall burns bright white with purity and when the demon spirit comes in contact it burns it, destroys it, but it also cleanses, leaving the human open for renewal. As I said before, it represents masculine with Air. When you're feeling to be lacking courage and will, as well as knowing that your intuition needs sharpening; Fire is what you want to work with. There are quite a few positive effects of Fire which include enthusiasm, courage, loyalty, will power, leadership, action, and spirituality. But don't let that fool you; as with all, there are its down sides. Hate, jealousy, vindictiveness, ego, conflicts of all kinds, and destructive force of volcanoes.

"Water, is easily worked with and makes up most of our bodies and other living creatures. Now Water works with the West and is the other associated with the feminine. Water is that of emotions, so therefore working with her regarding your feelings is good. In the physical realm, Water elementals take on ondines, water spirits or mermaids, and as you very well know, your lake houses mermaids. Ondines work best with those comfortable with their emotions because they have better control over themselves and know exactly what they're dealing with. The positive aspects include compassion, conscience, devotion, receptivity and tranquility; while the negatives include apathy, depression, laziness and instability. But the deeper side can be that the positives are known to work against you, causing a Water elemental to be too compassionate and devoted resulting in backlash from those they cared for, which ends in immense suffering.

"Spirit, soul, akasha, chi or whatever you choose to call it, is the fifth element. You are the fifth element, I'm the fifth element; all of us are the fifth element. Life and death are the fifth element. Spirit is what binds all the other elements into one form to make them one; the Mother and Father of everything, and all magic. You've probably heard your professors tell you to concentrate, right? Concentration is a way of invoking the Spirit element within you to make your magic happen. Use it for positive purposes only, and you will get positive results. Use it for negative, well, personally that's not too grand of an idea. Never toy with Spirit.

"The element of Spirit is very strong in your blood. Caution is needed when using blood magic since it's dangerous and extremely powerful. Never use the blood of an unwilling being, you have been warned. I have seen to what effect it has caused and it is devastating. Using unwilling blood is considered sick and evil magic and is always left behind by scars. When in need of enlightenment, finding your path, spiritual knowledge, Seeing and understanding; this is the element to call upon. The realm of Spirit rules transcendence, transformation, change everywhere and nowhere, with and without. The direction it rules is Center and Circumference, throughout and about. It rules North, East, South and West, Up and Down, as well as also a complete lack of directions and dimensions. In short, it rules everything. Are there any questions? Yes, Miss Brown."

"What gender does Spirit work with?" she asked with her head held high.

"As Spirit rules all, it is both masculine and feminine. Yes, Mr. Thomas."

"Since you said that mermaids work with Water, does that make them Water spirits?"

"Mermaids are actually manifestations of Water spirits in the physical form, but they represent Water. Mr. Goyle, I believe."

"If Fire demands respect, shouldn't Fire rule all?" he asked shrewdly.

"All elements demand respect, Mr. Goyle, Fire just happens to demand more even though all elements can and do destroy."

"I guess Goyle isn't as stupid as we thought," Harry whispered, leaning over to Ron. Everyone in range muffled their laughs and snorts of amusement.

"Anyone else have anything to ask? No? All right, now I'm going to give each group and objective to work for. I will be coming around to help you out. I want each group to choose one of the five smaller circles and remember these are open and sacred, respect them and they will grant your objection. Yes, wonderful, all right then. Fire, within your circle I want you to pull your powers together and create an actual fire. I mean one that burns and will destroy if set loose. I've had students create one and it did not even radiate heat or burn. I want it hot and have the power to destroy. Water, I want you to create a puddle. But, here's the catch, I want this water to come from within you, I don't want it to appear from the circle. Remember, no wands. Wind, this is where the powers of the Fires doubles by containing and controlling their flame. Wind, I want a swirling mass of pure power to come up from within your circle and expand throughout the room. I want your gale to be strong enough so that it crushes Fire's magic. Earth, I want a simple Oak tree sprout from you. I know it doesn't sound like much, but Oak is resilient and can withstand great things, magic included. And Spirit... I want each of you to Astral Project."

"What?" the class rang out.

"I want you to force your inner spirit out of you. Manipulate your bodies to eject your spirit so that it may roam free. All right, get to work."

The students began to talk within their groups on the best way to invoke their powers. Many had been very appreciative of the fact that they had read the required reading assignment as to ways of invoking. The Fire group sat down around the circle with their fingers on the circle's edge. Spirits were stalk still with their feet together and their hands joined. Earths were down as well, but placed their hands in the sacred circles, covering the middle like a protective mother of her baby; or in this case, a seedling. All could be heard oohing when the magic began to flow. Winds had their arms stretched out into the air and the thunder could be heard above them, as well as could be felt shaking the floor. The Water group however was standing with their feet apart and hands above the circle, tiny drops of water dripping from their fingertips, swirling around and conjoining into one inside the circle.

"Excellent," said Professor Neveux. "Mr. Boot, pull harder with your mind. Mr. Crabbe, imagine yourself going into you body to find its likeness. Then imagine physically pushing it out of you. Wonderful job, Earth. Miss McGill, you see how some of your drops are on the outer edges of the mass? Mentally visualize them coming together before they fall from your fingers. Demand that they join with the others."

She gave them an additional ten minutes to practice before deciding to test them individually. Earth and Wind seemed to be the only two groups that weren't nervous.

"When I call your group, I want each to stand at one of these circles in front of me and complete your task again. All right?--Wind."

Terry, Draco, Blaise and Ron took their positions, each placing their feet on the edge of their individual circles and returning their arms into the air. In a matter of seconds, gale force winds blustered throughout the room, scattering papers, causing students robes to billow out and even causing a few classmates to tremble as the thunder roared.

"Fantastic, Water."

Joely, Padma and Dean took stance; stretching their arms out above the centers, the class was awed as the water drops began to flow from their fingers. Professor Neveux smiled when the three small puddles joined into one as she had suspected it would. The swirling mass of liquid formed into a whirlpool and was soaked into a crack in the floor.

"Magnifique! Fire!"

Hermione, Seamus, Goyle and Susan sat on their legs, their fingers touching their sacred opening's edge. The students could be seen loosening their collars as the room rapidly began to heat up; eventually the massive windows appeared to be steaming over with the drastic change in temperature. Then as if planned, each circle exploded with flames in a sequence. Professor Neveux ripped a spare piece of parchment and tested each flame to see if the flames would indeed burn and destroy.

"Perfect! Earth now please," said Jasmine excitedly.

Tarrah, Neville and Anthony spaced out with a circle between them, down on the ground and their hands covering the middles. Neveux squealed in glee as the tiny Oak seedlings sprouted up almost out of nowhere. She let them continue until the babies were now around three feet high and limbs began to grow from the whippy trunk.

"Oh I'm so impressed! Now, this room must stay exceptionally quiet for this next demonstration. Front and center, Spirits."

Harry, Justin, Ernie, Lavender and Crabbe stepped up nervously. All five seemed weak in the knees. Stepping into the actual middle of their spaces, they clamped their feet together, hands firmly at their sides. It was now deathly silent in the DADA room. One by one each person's inner spirit ejected from the owner. Jasmine allowed the students admire the power that was before them in these spiritual beings.

"If you get lost, imagine falling back into your body as you would your bed," she whispered as Crabbe's spirit began to wander away from his body. When everyone's spirit had returned and the five had awoken, Professor Bridgeman was astounded while Neveux was ecstatic. "I'm so amazed at you children! I knew everyone could do it! Five points to Hermione, Neville, Terry, Lavender and Padma for your superb demonstrations!"

................................................

Yep, everything was lacking except for classes and the fast approaching Quidditch House Cup game. Surprisingly, and to extreme shock to two students, the most boring class on the Hogwarts curriculum, History of Magic, turned out to have a revelation of epic proportions.

"...so thus the reason that emergency placement of wards has be legalized to ensure the protection of those in imminent danger at all costs," said the ghostly Binns in his usual monotone voice. "Should you find yourself cornered by a goblin, remember that ward placement was legalized in 1612, after the goblin rebellion."

"I should've stayed in bed this morning," whispered Joely to Ron.

Ron tried as best he could to stifle his yawn. "M... m... me too."

"Do you think he would notice if I snuck out?"

"You mean like he notices that half the class is asleep? Look over there, Jonathon Conway is sound asleep and drooling. Does it look like Binns is in anyway of a rush to float over there and stop him? Hermione would for sure notice though."

"Good point," she grumbled.

"Are there any questions? Yes, Mr. Boot."

"I read in a book that some of the wards we use today were invented because of an old family feud," he said in curiosity.

"Yes, Mr. Boot, that is correct. In 1465, a feud began between two opposite families: the Browns and the McGills."

Joely's head snapped to attention.

"The Browns were a very respectable family. They were looked upon with high regards, while the McGills were well known for their complete support of the Dark." Lavender and Joely simultaneously turned their heads to each other as Binns drawled on. Joely was extremely anxious, while Lavender smiled smugly. "I believe I have that book somewhere. Here it is," he answered. Joely's eyes popped out when she noticed that Binns' book was her family history that Scott was presumably to be safeguarding. "Please pay attention while I read from the book.

"'In 1465, a march was to take place that's aim was to stamp out the opposing families of the Light, from the sacred lands of the Dark. The leader of this crusade was none other than Beasal McGill, famed for the slaughter of the Wrexham manitcore in 1407. The McGills, Emmersons, Conlins, and Holcombes were out to battle for the rights to their land entailed to them by their forefathers. The Emmersons and Conlins were out for a peaceful agreement to share the land, but Beasal McGill and Steffen Holcombe would not hear of peace. Conlin and Emerson were then forced with trickery into believing that spilling blood was the only answer.

"'On August 23, 1465, McGill gathered his followers from several other families and proceeded south on foot and horseback. The first fight occurred on what is now the border of the counties of Northumberland and Durham. It had been a bloody battle, nine marchers and five opposing fighters were killed. This included the deaths of Beasal's wife Charlotte, and their first child, three year old Clayton. The deaths of his beloved and child infuriated his rage, knowing that his one year old, Felim, would be brought up without his mother.

"'For weeks on end, the warring continued on. Each time, death was always the outcome. Among the marchers, wives and children's deaths were common. The women had refused to stay behind and tend to the children; they supported their husbands' cause, and fought along side them. At the end of September, the marchers moved west into what is now Cumbria, incurring resistance every step of the way. The worst of the battle took place at the foot of the mountains, on September 30, 1465, the death toll reaching to all but two of the four original marchers and a few followers. This was the night that Beasal McGill and Cassius Emerson came face to face with Jerome Brown and his army of seventy-five.

'"Jerome had cautioned that this could have been solved civilly and that no one should have died, choosing to comment not only heavily, but spitefully on the loss of Beasal's wife and first born. He aimed for a peaceful treaty, but was spat upon by Cassius for the idiotic suggestion. Cassius told Jerome that this sacred land had been theirs since their forefathers had made the journey from Ireland. Both Beasal and Cassius claimed that the sacred land was being tainted by the Light English.

"'Brown laughed in their faces at their numbers. But McGill and Emerson were not going to stand to accept Brown's attempts to intimidate them. The crusade leaders agreed to try and talk civilly about the occupants on their land, and Jerome suggested that they meet privately at his home. The Brown family would not be the same come dawn. At precisely eight o'clock, Jerome Brown opened his door to allow McGill and Emerson entrance, insisting that this be kept quiet as his children lay asleep. After a few hours of conversation, an arrangement was drawn up that all of Northumberland and the eastern section of Durham would solely be to the families of the once marchers, while the west half of Durham and all of today's Cumbria would now belong to the resistance.

"'As a token of his appreciation, Cassius suggested that they celebrate with a drink from his finest bottle of ale. Beasal even suggested that Jerome's wife join them in the festivity. Within just a few pints of consumption, Jerome's wife, Margaret took ill, only to collapse upon standing to retire for the night. Upon turning Margaret's body over, Jerome found the inside of her mouth filled with foam and blood. He turned to the traitorous McGill and Emerson to see them smiling devilishly. According to records, Jerome was about to speak when he too fell dead from poison. Neither Browns knew that the ale was tainted, nor did they have reason to seeing as Beasal and Cassius seemed to be indulging as well.

"' When dawn arrived, the village awoke to see the bodies of Jerome and Margaret Brown hanging in the town center. On the ground at their feet was a message written in the blood of the two victims. 'Tis a warning. Should ye break this treaty, tis the same death that awaits ye.' The townsfolk saw the treaty nailed into Jerome's stomach. From that point on, the Browns and McGills have been the bitterest of enemies, even after their redemption in 1713, and their public denouncement of their support of the Dark side made but Sean McGill at his Hogwarts graduation.

"Now with regarding your question, Mr. Boot, when Beasal and Cassius left the village, they also left a warning on the town entrance sign stating that they would be back. This in turn was the beginning of such wards as those that drain you of your magical power should you cross a certain barrier line, a charm much like that of a Muggle Repelling Charm, ones that disillusion your objectivity, even ones that shock."

...............

"Scott, you son of a bitch!"

"What did I do now?" he asked sincerely as Joely stormed into his classroom.

"You no good, blood sucking, back stabbing, traitorous bastard! You gave that book to Binns! You promised that you wouldn't give it to anyone!"

"I said that I wouldn't give it to 'another person.' That doesn't include ghosts because they're dead," he smirked wickedly.

"You're splitting hairs, Bridgeman! Why, Scott, why?"

"Binns is an expert on history, is he not?"

"Yes," she replied tersely.

"Which means that he can read between the lines--"

"Get to the point before I go psycho on you."

"Maybe there is something in there after all."

"While Binns is looking for that, everyone that wasn't sleeping just now in my class knows why Lavender hates me!"

"What?" asked Bridgeman apprehensively.

"Binns just read the brief history behind the feud!"

.........................................................

Joely had been given the merciful luck of having been in a History of Magic that no one had pay attention in, for no one had seemed to retain his reading enough to remember it except for the trio and Lavender. She concerned about Terry considering he had posed the question, but even he had either not seemed to bother paying attention, or he wasn't putting two and two together to realize that it had been hers and Lavender's families that were and are quarreling. But as April gave way to May, everyone, even the trio (so she thought, Hermione was showing extreme enthusiasm) had seemed too engrossed in the upcoming Quidditch House Cup to care about anything else.

Before everyone knew it, the final had arrived. Time had really seemed to pass by quickly with the school population burying their noses in their books for the upcoming final exams. But that had not stopped Harry from forcing his team into staying up extra late each night with homework after grueling, not to mention exhausting, practices. Then the Saturday of the match dawned.

"All right, you lot, here's how we're going to play this," said Harry as he began his speech in the changing room. "Save for the wind, the weather is perfect. Chasers, I want you to be on guard of the wind blowing off the lake, it's very shifty and can make your throws off target. Beaters, Crabbe and Goyle are going to be especially ruthless today, so I want you to hit back ten times harder with vengeance."

"You mean we get to be nasty?" asked Holly with a sly grin.

"If it's warranted, yes."

"It's about bloody time!" she exclaimed.

"But that does not mean attacking them physically and not striking the Bludgers," Harry retorted.

"Oh, Harry, come on," said Ginny. "They can make it look like an accident."

"We don't play dirty like that, Ginny," he said stiffly. "We're going to out-smart, and out-play them. We've all seen them play and there's no denying that they're good. But we can out-do them!"

"Gotcha," said Natalie.

"Now, Ron, you really need to be on your toes with the Slytherin Chasers. They nearly crushed the Ravenclaw Keeper Cleary. Fight hard, mate, all right?"

"So, whose turn is it to give Harry his pep talk?" said Chaser Alex Boyd with a big toothy grin.

"All right, that's enough! Let's go out there and win that cup!"

"YEAH!"

...............

"Oi, Hermione!" said Colin. "Is that Joely down there?"

"Where, Colin?"

"There by the entrance, talking to Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall."

"It looks like her. It can't be though, she's not allowed to the matches." Hermione proved herself wrong though when Joely climbed up the stadium, taking a seat next to her. "What are you doing here?" questioned Hermione excitedly.

"They let me out of the institution on good behavior," she laughed."

"Good behavior? Ha!" she scoffed.

"I've been a berry good girl," she cooed in a childish voice. "I don't know how much longer I was going to be able to stand locked up in that castle. Dumbledore said that he thought that it was only fair to let me see the final match. God does that sun and breeze feel good."

"Look here they come!"

Screams filled every corner of the pitch as the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams walked to the center of the pitch.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Quidditch House Cup!" shouted Carlson. Again screams and cheers sounded. "Today's match is Slytherin versus Gryffindor! Gryffindor remains undefeated this year, while the Slytherin's first match against Hufflepuff was lost by a mere ten points. Too bad for them, eh? Here comes Madam Hooch to begin the game! Remember, the first team to catch the Snitch, ends the game."

"All right!" shouted Madam Hooch in her referee robes. "This is going to be a fair and clean game played today. Understood? Mount up!"

The players took off into the sky, hovering in their positions above center pitch.

"There goes the Bludgers and the Snitch! Up goes the Quaffle! And the game begins!"

Slytherin immediately took control of the match.

"Slytherin Chaser Lexford passes off to Renway! Back to Lexford! He shoots... great save by Keeper Weasley! Natalie receives from Weasley and tosses off to Alex Boyd. Boyd to MacDonald, MacDonald to Boyd as he dives beneath Goyle, Boyd to Weasley. She shoots... she scores! Ten points to Gryffindor!" yelled Carlson. "Hey, watch it, you git!" he yelled as Crabbe took a swing at Ginny but missed when she luckily ducked.

"Renway catches off Keeper Demear, he passes to Lexford. Oh, he's nicked by a Bludger! Nice hit, Prescott! Good show! Lexford still in possession as Chaser Weasley tries to head him off. Come on, Ginny! Renway drops the Quaffle as he's sideswiped by a Bludger courtesy of his own teammate Vincent Crabbe! He's not too happy. This could very well be the final match that Beater Crabbe plays in, ladies and gentlemen. Speaking of Crabbe, I hear he's been in detention twelve times this year, scrubbing cauldrons every time."

"Carlson, stick to what's at hand," droned Snape.

"Right you are, Professor. In comes Slytherin Chaser Emerson to receive from Lexford.

"Get him, Alex!" shouted Joely as loud as she could.

"Hey, Joely? Is that Emerson related to the one in that book about...?"

Hermione stopped abruptly with the glare that she got out of Joely's peripheral. But she only realized that she was eyeing someone else as well when the victim of her stare spoke up.

"Well I see someone stuck to family traditions of entering the house you belong to," said Lavender with extreme venom. "Unlike some we know."

"Remember what Dumbledore said?" said Hermione with urgency when Joely appeared to be about to confront Lavender. "She's not worth it. Just ignore her."

"Yes, do remember what Dumbledore said," she teased. "Listen to Hermione and try to ignore me."

"Shove it, Lavender!" spat Hermione.

"Do stay out of this, Hermione. This is no concern of yours."

"Knock it off, Lavender!"

"Emerson shoots, he scores," said Carlson dispiritedly. "Another ten points to Slytherin. MacDonald with the catch!" he said with immense cheer as his mood changed. "Look at her go! Oh she's squashed between Renway and Lexford! Dive, love, dive! Down, Natalie, you're going to crash!"

"No!" Joely screamed as Natalie and Holli crashed nearly head on.

Joely's scream of plea rang out across the stadium, all the way up to the ears of the high hovering Draco. He looked down into the stands and groaned in anguish of knowing that he was too far up to see faces, but he knew that that scream was beyond familiar. It was the one sound that he knew he would always hear over any other. He knew the way that word beat against his eardrums. He knew it was Joely. But he also knew that she was supposed to be banned from Quidditch matches.

He dove down to stop just above the swerving players; any lower and he would've collided with the high speed flying Weasley. It was much easier at this height to see Madam Pomfrey tending and mending to the collided Gryffindors which he assumed was the reason for the belt of negativity. Again, he dove, only this time it was to dodge a Bludger that was racing toward his face. Keeping a sharp eye out for the Snitch, he returned to a higher altitude.

Approximately an hour later with Holli and Natalie having returned to the game, Slytherin was now leading 250-160. Both teams were now playing with only one solitary Beater as Prescott and Goyle had attacked each other in one on one combat, only to end up beaten and bruised, as well as disqualified from the remaining match.

"Boyd to MacDonald, Natalie shoots but it is saved by Demear. The Keeper passes off... oh, interception by Ginny Weasley! Ginny flies off down the pitch! She zooms past Crabbe, past Emerson, come on, Ginny! She scores! Ginny Weasley scores for Gryffindor!"

"Where's Harry?" says Joely. "I've only seen him four times this game."

"He's up there with Malfoy," she said exasperatedly, pointing high into the sky above them. "They've marked each other."

"He better get moving and find that Snitch. We're still down by--OW!" she moaned sharply.

"What? What's wrong?"

"My stomach--OW!"

"You all right?"

"I think so. I guess breakfast just didn't agree with me or something."

"Or something. . . ."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Joely snipped.

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are neck and neck!" Carlson interrupted. "Does anyone see the Snitch? Where is it?"

"Hermione, look!" said Joely hurriedly, motioning for Hermione to look up.

"Oh Lord no!"

There it was! Hovering around four or five feet above Hermione's head was the tiny Golden Snitch. Hermione and Joely looked panicked as they saw Harry and Draco speeding straight at them. Faster and faster they flew, inches and feet of air passing by them.

Harry flattened himself against the broom handle, reaching his right arm out in front as he came closer to the winged nut. With only a few feet, he spotted her; Draco spotted the look of extreme fright upon Joely's face. Suddenly, he pulled off the right, skimming a few head with this toes.

"Gryffindor wins! Gryffindor wins! Gryffindor wins 310-250! Gryffindor wins the House Cup!"

Harry landed center pitch, holding the Snitch between his fingers above him, showing it off none the less. Cheers and screams of congratulations and excitement roared. Immediately after the rest of the team landed, fellow housemates rushed out onto the pitch.

"You did it, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione as she jumped into his arms, quickly fusing their lips together in a frenzied kiss. "You did it! We won!"

"Did you doubt me?"

"We won! We won!" praised Joely as she rushed up to Hermione and Harry. "Oh my God, Harry, what a catch!"

"Did you see Malfoy pull out?" he laughed with excitement.

"I know! Where's Ron?"

"Over there," he laughed, pointing to the ginger haired body of Ron laying flat on his back as though in shock.

Draco watched from twenty feet above as Joely made a football slide, landing next to Ron's body. Even as she bent down and engulfed him in a hug, his eyes did not waver. Turning to the stands he watched the Slytherin supporters empty their seats in what was disgust, gloominess, or hatred. Well it actually was a bit of all three.

He looked back down onto the small celebration; there he locked eyes with Joely. Even though her body and face expressed happiness and cheer, her eyes were trying to hide the sadness that only he could recognize. Was it sadness, or was it pain? Ever since their detention of scrubbing the stairs and entrance way those few weeks ago, they avoided each other like the plague. Being potions partners however made things all the more difficult, and too complicated for anyone to understand. Both had wanted to say so much to each other, whether it was words of wit and smart remarks, or words of possible apologies or affection, they still wanted to be said, and both chose to remain silent.

Here and now, he knew that there was still so much that wanted to be said, but he couldn't. Was it his pride? Fear? Anger? Or was it the feeling deep in his stomach that screamed what his heart and mind were telling him that prohibited him from talking? That butterfly sensation suddenly increased when Joely winked at him. At that moment, warmth spread through his body, giving him the feel of being lowered into a hot bath. When it entered his chest, he felt the pulsing and pounding of what seemed to be another heart beating against his ribcage. This heart beat was faster, but he could feel it ebb as though it was aiming to match his. Never looking away from her, he felt the two finally beat twice together, but they were heavy, heavy enough that the throb moved to pound in his temples. That's when everything around him began to move in slow motion. Everything moved as though it was being pulled back by an unseen force of resistance.

Suddenly in that same slowness, Joely's body went crashing to the ground. Even from his height he could hear the battering sound that was made when her body slammed into the ground. He zoomed down and landed with a heavy thud, throwing his broom somewhere behind him and out of the way, pushing people roughly out of his way as he tried to get to her.

"Don't touch me," she commanded to him as he knelt down next to her.

..................

Tears filled her eyes while fear claimed her heart as she ran. She pushed people forcefully out of her way, ignoring professors as she flew. She nearly collided with Bridgeman as she exited the pitch. Not now! Please not now! How could this be happening? How could they have failed again? She had only one thing on her mind. She didn't give two Sickles who saw her and called after her in wonder of where she was going; she had to get to the clearing. She ran as fast as her legs would allow, pushing herself to ignore the pain in her calves, threatening to cramp up on her. She wasn't going to give in to the ache. She was going to make it there and fast.

Across the grounds, past the entrance doors, zipping quickly past Hagrid's hut (he would surely ask questions as to where she was heading so fast), and straight into the forest she ran. She tried with all her might to maintain her speed. This was a life or death situation and she was being depended on for warnings. Her arm was now throbbing with agony. She applied pressure to the wound to try and lull the warning away.

The distance only seemed to increase even though it was decreasing rapidly. Now it was too hard to take anymore; she had to stop. The stitch in her side tried with all its might to squeeze her lungs. Tripping over fallen limbs and branches here and there, looking over her shoulder and to her sides all the time, she finally reached the clearing.

Pulling off her crimson Quidditch robes, she examined the bandage around her arm; it was soaked in blood. His voice began to ring menacingly in her ears. Hateful words of disgust and loathing filled her mind as she ripped the cloth bandage off; the sound of shredding echoing around her as even the few birds that inhabited this area scattered from the trees at the noise. Black blood poured from the wound like an exploded water main, spattering her clothes and the ground below.

"AHH!" she screamed in pain. "NO!"

...............

"What was that?" said Ron. "Where did that scream come from?"

"Joely, I need you to turn over," said Madam Pomfrey.

"I can't. It--it hurts too badly," she cried softly.

"You have to, dear. I have to look. I need everyone to clear out of here."

"To your common rooms immediately," commanded Snape forcefully.

Instead of turning her over, Professor Bridgeman knelt down behind her and positioned his arms under hers. Gently and slowly he pushed her up into a slight sitting pose. Leaning her shoulders against his chest, he pulled his arms out and took hold of them to push her up completely. But before she was fully away from him, a mournful call was resonating above and everyone looked up to see the cry coming from the purple phoenix circling high in the sky. Hermione even commented on noticing that it was the same phoenix from Care of Magical Creatures class: Athena.

"Oh, God, no!" Joely cried as she fell down to the side. This however gave her back complete exposure to the nurse. Hermione and Professor McGonagall gasped, covering their mouths while Harry and Ron cringed at the sight of the blood soaked shirt that was stuck to her. "No!"

"Son of a bitch," growled Scott. "No, Draco, don't touch her. That will only make her hurt more."

"Ron, what is going on?" asked Lavender as she came to a screeching halt next to him. "Oh my God! What happened to her?"

"Like you care," hissed Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"That's enough, Miss Granger. Miss Brown, do watch your tongue," said McGonagall as Lavender was about to pipe up with a comeback.

The sight of blood tainting the white of Joely's shirt was dizzying Draco. It wasn't like he had never seen blood before, but her cursed blood swallowing the white, the color of purity, was particularly nauseating him.

"Professor, what's going on?" Draco queried, looking to Professor Dumbledore for the answer.

"No, they promised," sobbed Joely. It was easy to tell that she was having a troubled time breathing as the rising and falling of her back matched her wheezy and bated breath. "They promised!" she yelled. "They promised!"

"Shh, just calm down, Joely," comforted Scott.

"I will not calm down!"

"Albus, I need to examine her more thoroughly," said Poppy as she conjured a stretcher. "All of them are open, but I don't know their depths. If they're too deep, she could and will bleed to death," she said gravely.

"What's open?" asked Harry. Little did he know that Draco was wondering the exact same. "What's the 'them?'"

"What the bleedin' hell is this?" came Blaise's voice. "Oh Merlin!"

"This is not a side show, Mr. Zabini!" scolded McGonagall.

"Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, I want you to assemble the rest of the prefects together and gather the students into the Great Hall. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, I want you to fetch Hagrid and he'll tend to Athena over there. Mr. Zabini and Miss Brown, I want the both of you in the Great Hall promptly. None of you are to go anywhere alone, I want everyone to stay in their pairs. Go on," said Dumbledore in hastiness, stating the need to have his orders done presently.

Draco however, even after pushes and pulls from Hermione, stood fast to his spot.

"Malfoy, let's go!"

"I'm not going anywhere, Granger."

"You will do as you're told," ordered Snape with ferocity.

Very reluctantly, and Professor Dumbledore took note of it, Draco followed Hermione to do as he was instructed.

"They promised me, Scott. How could they do this to me?" Joely cried as the blood traveled down, soaking into the denim of her jeans.

"I know, Joely, I know, and I'm sorry."

"I want my mom. I need Tyler."

"I need her in hospital immediately," said Poppy hurriedly, tapping her foot.

"Let's go now then," Dumbledore replied as Bridgeman eased her up onto the stretcher.

"Draco," she cried.

...................................................

The gathering of the students and prefects the prior week had been a bigger deal for those that were aware rather than those that were not knowledgeable. Dumbledore had advised the students that Mr. Filch would be tending to some major spring cleaning projects that needed to begin immediately, so all must be in their common rooms by eight o'clock, no ifs, ands, or buts! Anyone out after hours would be in a week's detention unless the reason was cleared by a professor and said professor was with them. Detention was the normal discipline for being out of bed after lights out, but all agreed that a week was extreme just for messing about while Filch was cleaning. Under oath, the Headmaster made Draco, the trio, and Blaise promise never to reveal the true reasoning behind the new guidelines for students. But if asked they could answer truthfully that they didn't know. Well, they didn't really know, but three of them had rough ideas. Another beauty was the fact that no one would think to ask Blaise. Much like Hagrid's situation with Dumbledore's secrets, the least obvious knew the most. Then there was the one that knew it all, down to the very last detail, but was hidden in plain sight.

One week later only the professors, Draco, Blaise and the trio knew of the chaos that had taken place on the pitch. Well, actually they had known what had happened, but the professors and Blaise were the truly enlightened ones with Draco coming in second, followed by Harry, Hermione and Ron.

Dumbledore now had Hermione tutoring Joely daily, with Madam Pomfrey's promise that she would bind Joely to the bed if she had to in order for her to stay put. Dumbledore even demanded that Joely's tutoring lessons were supervised by the nurse from the time Hermione arrived to the time she left. Joely was not allowed out of the infirmary under any circumstances as it was the closest room to the Headmaster's office that offered beds. Her occupying the hospital allowed for quick emergency access if needed.

"Remember to practice your wand movements as they are key in this charm," said Professor Flitwick happily. "For homework I want each of you to write a three foot essay on the similarities between Levitation and Flotation Charms, due Monday. Class dismissed."

"She's back," said a dark voice to Draco as he packed away his books. He looked around to find no one present with that deep of a voice. "Go and see her. She's waiting for you in Gryffindor Tower."

Draco stood puzzled further than comprehension could reach. Who had been speaking to him? It wasn't the voice of anyone that sound familiar. Then it spoke again.

"Joely's waiting for you, Draco. She's in her common room. She wants you."

Deciding that perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks with him, or Joely actually playing tricks on him, he opted to check it out and tell her off for messing with his mind. On his way, he turned the corner and bumped into the trio. Well his bumping into Hermione was the actual event.

"Watch it, Granger!"

"What are you doing in this corridor?" gruffed Ron.

"I'm going to see Joely in the tower. Not that it's any of your business, Weasel."

"Who told you she was back?" asked Hermione, seeming slightly troubled.

"She told me. What are you, the inquisition into her whereabouts?"

"You're one to talk about inquisitions, Malfoy," bickered Harry with a glint of malice in his eyes.

"All right, boys, well take out the rulers later. Let's just go and see how she's doing. Remember, Dumbledore said not a word about what happened."

............

"How are you doing, Joely?" asked Poppy as she pulled Joely's curtain back.

"My back feels like it's pulling away from my spine and it hurts to breathe. I'm freezing too!"

When Joely's curse wounds that had scarred her back opened, clothing of any kind was prohibited. Material touching the maimed flesh was painful to an extensive degree. Her usual course of treatment had her flat on her stomach with her head at the foot of the bed and in pajama pants. Her upper torso was completely bare until the wounds temporarily fleshed over.

Even cotton and silk of the softest grade was not only torture, but prohibited from grazing her flesh and neck. It was what she called one of the more humiliating aspects of this "ailment;" having your back bare for everyone to see should they step around that curtain. Being nude from the waist up was bad enough, but it was horrible as well when you were stuck in a colder than normal hospital ward with your only source of warmth being Madam Pomfrey's Warming Charms that didn't seem to last long.

Joely hissed and moaned in pain as the nurse dabbed the damp gauze across her skin. She watched Pomfrey's continuous repetitions as she would soak a small area of the gauze with the crystal-clear, water like liquid from the all too famous purple bottle.

"Did you use Athena's tears on Draco too?" she asked nervously.

"Mm-hmm," Poppy replied, nodding her head. "Although, Mr. Malfoy did not have open wounds, his muscles were just very badly injured."

"Then why did he bleed?"

"I haven't a clue. Lie back down now. He did seem quite disturbed about his eye color changing suddenly."

"Oh no," she groaned into the blanket.

"I'm sure that he's long forgotten it."

"I just hope that his doesn't change permanently like mine did."

............

"Hang on! Hang on! These have to be mixed together, otherwise the potion won't reach the desired consistency, ergo, it won't be complete."

"Listen," said a disgruntled Ginny, "you can't mix Lobalug venom with Ashwinder eggs."

"And why not?" Ginny's project partner gruffed.

"Because Lobalug venom is illegal in school potions classes. Not to mention that it would knock out everyone within a five foot radius with its putrid stench. Haven't you ever read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander?"

"They don't sell that book in the States," she mumbled under her breath.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing. But you need the Ashwinder eggs to give the potion that extra burst of heat that it needs to thicken."

"But Ashwinder eggs are used in Love Potions, while Lobalug venom is used as a defense. They would cancel each other out if we mixed them together, leaving us with a goopy mess. Don't forget a failing mark from Snape that would--"

"Ouch! Ow!"

"You all right?" questioned Ginny.

"Yes, my arm just--"

"Yes, that's right."

"You okay?"

"You failed your task. You can't stop me and you know it."

"HELLO!"

"You didn't actually think you'd win, did you?"

"Wait! We're not done yet!" yelled Ginny. "Stop!"

"We'll finish it later! I have to go, now!" she shouted as she left the library quickly.

She stopped at the corridor that led to Gryffindor Tower. The pain in her arm throbbing as the clean bandage was becoming warm as fresh blood was quickly drenching it.

She could feel the dark and evil magic swallowing the corridor whole. She could hear the threatening and hateful words banging against her eardrums as though she was standing inside a giant bell. As she proceeded down the hall's length, the voices of disgust could be heard thundering outside her mind as though they were speaking to her directly. Within just a few feet and seeing the fat lady shuffle about in anxiety, she heard the yell.

"DRACO, NO!"

That voice! She knew that voice was female. The voice that had been a voice of reason and advice. That was Hermione screaming!

Time is of the utmost importance, she told herself over and over again as she reluctantly ran away from the tower. She had to get there before anything happened. She would never forgive herself is anything happened to the innocent ones inside Gryffindor.

Down the hall, shouting out "Fizzing Whizzbees," up the revolving staircase she climbed, and the furiously banged on the Headmaster's door. "Professor, it's me!" she cried out. "Professor you have to come quick! It's happened!" she exclaimed as she burst into the room.

"Calm down, Holli."

"What's going on?" said Bridgeman as he too burst into Dumbledore office.

"Both of you please, calm down. Something very important has happened. I need both of your full attention as we haven't much time."

"Professor, we have to go now! Please, we have to!"

"What happened?" said an indignant Scott.

"I will explain it in a moment, but we must see Miss McGill first. Come with me."

"Becca! What are you doing here? Professor Dumbledore, what's going on?" asked Joely with worry.

"It's happened, Joely. It's real this time."

"Becca, don't joke around with me on this!" she scolded. "That's not funny!"

"I'm not laughing, am I?"

"It's not a joke, Jay," said Scott sincerely.

"I'm afraid Professor Bridgeman and Holli are correct, Miss McGill. It has happened, and he is here," said Dumbledore.

"Oh God, no," she whispered. "Where? Where is he?"

"He's in the tower, Joely," said Holli meekly.

Madam Pomfrey numbed Joely and bandaged her up, with Holli helping her into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. From there, she followed the two professors to Gryffindor Tower, taking the stairs slowly as she was still fairly weak. Once there, Professor Dumbledore cast a mirror charm to reflect what was going on in the common room.

"Oh my God!" Joely muffled in her hand.

Scott had not known the extent of what had happened, even from what Dumbledore had told them on the way to the infirmary, but he had never imagined this; not in a million years. No words seemed to fit this disaster. All he could do was bow his head in remorse and sigh heavily.

There was Draco, Ron, Hermione and Harry bound and gagged to four chairs. And there He was, waving their wands in their faces, taunting them into thinking he was going to use their own weapons against them. It could not be put past him though. Laughing with wickedness and menace, he teased them in a way that could very well be considered torture.

"I have to do something," said a flustered Joely.

"I think we should call the Ministry and the Society and have them both send out a team of Aurors," said Scott in what was a hope of a way of keeping everyone from making hasty and possibly dangerous situations.

"And have every bloody student congregating to this corridor?" snapped Holli. "You're out of your mind!"

"I'm not going to stand here and let them stay in there! Who knows what he'll do to them!" exclaimed Joely.

"That's quite enough," said Dumbledore calmly. "Let us go back to my office and discuss this correctly. Professor Bridgeman, I need you to cast a repelling charm to repel all students from this corridor. I don't want anyone near this common room. Joely and Holli, come with me."

"Professor, I can't sit back and wait for the Ministry and Society to get here. If he gets one whiff of an Auror, let alone teams of them, or should they burst into that room, he will kill them without a moment's hesitation."

"This is our only option, Miss McGill," said the Headmaster as he sat back behind his desk, looking almost relaxed.

"He wants me! If I don't do something or if he doesn't see me soon, he'll pick them off one by one, forcing the others to watch the death!"

"She's right, sir," said Holli fidgeting about the office.

As Holli and Scott were joined by Professors McGonagall and Snape, Joely took this time to glance and walk about the Headmaster's office. She had been in here before, but this was the first time that she had really been given the chance to take notice of what the fascinating room held. The first time she had stepped foot in here was to meet with Dumbledore as soon as her fifth year at Salem was over in May of last year. And even then as welcoming as he had been and asked if she would relish a look around, she still felt as though she would be a disgrace to move about his office.

Her brain whirled about in a frenzy as she gazed into the Observatory behind Dumbledore's desk. It seemed to be an ancient replica of those that she had seen in books used my astronomers like Aristotle and Ptolemy. And yet it had a modern appearance of the ones like that of the huge California observatories she had always dreamed of seeing. Constellations and planetary models floated about in the space inside the dome in their simulated orbits.

Bookshelves upon bookshelves filled the cavernous area around the staircases. Big reader, she thought. He must have a lot of time on his hands if he reads this much. "Not as much as you would think," she heard Dumbledore reply in her mind. Oddly though, hearing his voice in her mind was a strange comfort that she couldn't explain. Reading some of the book spines, she found many that would help out any person in any type of situation or with any question. Well, except maybe for the occasional query about the meaning of life. Then again, some might answer that question with "the meaning of life is to reproduce and thrive as the dominant species." Joely cringed at the thought. Her eyes gapped open in amazement when she came across a book written by Godric Gryffindor himself; curiosity filling her full as she wanted desperately to peruse its contents.

Stepping into the entrance area, she glanced upon the curious and mysterious objects situated on the shelves. Whistling tea spoons, gurgling ink wells, a hissing metallic snake slithering around inside a deep clear dish, she jumped back slightly when she came upon a growling deck of playing cards; all these things had been taken into the Headmaster's eccentric collection.

The other side of the entrance held what she assumed was the more sinister objects. Sinister? Yeah right, she laughed. How sinister could a pair of pinching sugar tongs be? But as she moved down, she did happen on a Chinese Finger trap; guaranteed to be a torture to try and remove alone (Could that be considered sinister?), then she came across an incase thumb screw, (Filch would love to get his hands on that), but then at the end was an open cupboard displaying a pair of swords.

She looked close up at the first one to see rubies bejeweled to the handle and the name Godric Gryffindor engraved down the blade. She gave a small and soft smile as she remembered Ron telling her on how Harry has slain a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets with this very same sword in their second year. She chuckled gingerly when she thought about how enthused her ginger-haired friend was when he told her that Harry had actually pulled it from the Sorting Hat in the heat of battle. Famous Harry Potter, she thought. The sword next to it however, was just plain with an antique finished handle. No jewels, no inscribed name, no famous words of wisdom on the underside of the handle guard. It was just as plain as though it had come from a pauper blacksmith with limited materials, as a token of gratitude.

"You need to be locked away in the mental ward!" screeched Holli.

"Oh, I'm insane, am I? You've flipped your lid if you think that he would kill them, knowing that we are fully aware that he is here!" reamed Scott.

"Oh yeah? Who knows him better, me or you?"

That's when the idea hit her. That's when she knew that something needed to be done, now and quickly. Praying that no one noticed her, she grabbed the pauper's sword, "Crap this is heavy!" and rushed out the door.

There she stood, face to face with the fretful fat lady at the portrait hole, debating about how she was going to win. She wasn't worried about surviving, but she was frightened about freeing the others and slashing him to pieces. One of the biggest fights of her life was here and now, and she had to face it. This is it. This is what I promised to do. I promised to right Cody's death and prohibit another one. God, I sound like a damn war hero! "Knock that crap out!" she shamed herself.

"Joely, no!" she heard behind her.

There was Holli, fighting against Scott with all the strength her petite body possessed.

"Sugar Quills," she said with barely a breath.

"Hello, my sweet. I was wondering who I was going to have to kill before you turned up."

"Let them go, Damon," she demanded, trying to sounds vicious to his smooth but deadly tone.

"Now why on Earth would I do that?" he taunted.

"This has nothing to do with them. Let them go!"

"Oh but you see, it does. They care about you when they shouldn't. Nobody should care about a worthless piece of trash like you. I think Cody's death made that quite clear to you, didn't it?"

Joely's stomach flipped grotesquely with fear as she thought he was going to kill another to make his point again. "Damon, please don't hurt them," she begged.

"I could..." he teased, gliding behind Hermione's chair, "cast your curse upon Hermione here. No known cure, she would suffer the same fate as you."

"You don't have the dagger," Joely scoffed. "It's locked up in the Society."

"You mean... this dagger?" he smirked, pulling it from his belt and holding it to Hermione's throat.

"No, Damon, no!" she wailed as tears fell from Hermione's eyes.

"She's too pretty to destroy anyway," he reasoned, kissing Hermione's cheek hard, cackling wickedly as Harry mumbled fiercely and bounced around in his chair. "Well, I could just slash Draco's throat here and make it agonizingly slow and painful for both of you. But then again, I have him to thank for my return. After all, it was your feelings for him that I felt. With all that you've done to him, I have no doubt in my mind that he would be thrilled to join me in slaughtering you."

"Please don't hurt him. Please, Damon! I am literally begging you to let them all go free and unharmed."

"What about little Ronald here? He's a muggle-lover and you know how much I detest these kinds of people. Then, there's Harry here who had the audacity to destroy the one man that I respected above my father. The one wizard in this world that knew all of us would be better off without muggles and mudbloods tainting our pureblood world. Aww, what's that emotion I see in your eyes and feel beating in your heart? Is that love for these people? Is that love for Draco? I've warned you about that."

"Fine, you know what? You want to play with knives? Let's play with knives," she said, gathering her courage with all the insults he had thrown at her friends and pulling the sword from behind her. "Let's go! Right now!"