A Powerful and Painful Addiction

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As the time passed by, the outlook of a possible recovery grew more and more grim. They were not going to accept her demise until someone came out of that infirmary and told them to their faces that she was gone. But their spirits plummeted to an all time low when they saw three green robed St. Mungo's Healers and three Healers in-training rushing down the corridor and into the ward, speaking frankly about the patient being dead.

Chapter 17: Forgiven and Not Forgotten

Dead? She was dead? That wasn't possible! She couldn't die on them! How could she just leave them after all that they had done for her? They befriended her from the moment she embarked on her term for Hogwarts. They stayed content in the friendship even through the lies, and Hermione especially seemed to understand quite well on the details that Joely relayed to her about Damon; even though she now knew they were more lies. They saved her life and she in the end was choosing to fall and allow the underworld to claim her soul?

Harry's mind peddled backwards to when he had just grabbed Sirius' hand before he fell through the veil in the Department of Mysteries. He had suffered injuries courtesy of intercepting curses performed by Bellatrix Lestrange, but did in no way regret his actions. Had he not chosen his godfather's tortured life to be continued over his own, Sirius would not be alive to offer the fatherly advice Harry always wanted, yet like any normal teenager, rolled his eyes at when received. It brought a heartfelt smile to Harry's long face at the thought.

But what if Hermione was the one behind the obstructing infirmary doors right now? Or Ron perhaps? Thousands of scenarios lashed around in the grey matter underneath his skull. Each time he had very narrowly escaped Voldemort each year, he was inconceivably grateful that it had been him in danger and not Hermione or Ron. This time he was thankful that it wasn't either his girlfriend or best mate, but he was enthralled all the more that it had not been him enduring the pain and torture that he had been witness to. Did that make him a bad person, he wondered. Was Malfoy right and Joely was almost a reasonable facsimile to an acquaintance? He rattled his mind violently, shaming himself for he knew Malfoy was dead wrong. Joely was one of his best friends. Had her death not sunken in and his coming to terms with it was a slow going process? Would his elation of being safe soon perish?

Dead? Ron had had family members die before, but never a friend. Never someone he felt he knew, and knew him inside and out. Dead? Joely's dead? No! Dumbledore had relayed all up to date information of the reasoning of the goings on in the common room that he had informed Draco, Harry, and Hermione with. He now knew that she was cursed, that Damon had been after her all along; that he was merely a pawn that fell in a poorly played game of chess, and that his intentions were to destroy her, or force her into surrendering her magic and enslaving herself for eternity to save her friends and family from peril. He did it. He's won. He's destroyed her. He had destroyed the only person that had miraculously convinced him into following his heart and court Lavender; the one that helped him with his Astronomy charts when Hermione refused because she knew that he only needed help because he had procrastinated and time was down to the wire - and a rusty and barbed one at that. One of his three closest friends who had helped him believe that he needed to put his feelings above the opinions of other was - Dead.

"Harry," Hermione sobbed, "no."

Instinctively Harry took hold of Hermione's shoulders, pulling her trembling body forcefully against him, letting her wails of sorrow scream out of her. Tighter and harder he squeezed her, Hermione welcoming the pain as a sign of security and being alive as her body shook with tears. Hermione's cry for it all to be a lie sunk into Harry. He lowered his head to rest on top of hers, only allowing his own droplets of melancholy to fall once his face was hidden in her bushy hair.

"This is impossible," said Holli with a sniffle, shock evident in the river of drivel inching down her chin. "No, no, no! She can't be dead! She can't die on me! We've come too far!" she screamed, propelling herself up off the wall. "NO!"

Something inside Draco made him feel that it was his responsibility to comfort Holli. Was it because he was the closest link he had to her other life? Was it because he knew that she has suffered just as much, and most likely more in other ways then Joely had at the hands of her brother? Or was it unexplainably because he wanted to? He honestly, though he didn't really think on it, felt that it was because he wanted to comfort her. He pushed himself up, graceful as always in his movements, and took hold of her petite, yet swollen hand, whispering hopefully soothing words. Even though she tried fiercely to push him away, even against the punching of bloodied knuckles against his chest, he embraced her; letting her tears become lost in his blood spattered oxford.

Her body, once durable enough to have knocked Ron Weasley - someone that she wasn't even chest high to - on to his rear in a collision in the common room, was now weak and felt like jelly to hold. Draco's arms were the mold, helping her to set, and refusing to allow her to spill on the floor.

"She can't be dead, Harry. She can't."

"We tried, love, we did. She couldn't take the injuries."

"But - but, she's fought these before! This isn't the first time she's been injured like this!"

"This time was too much, Hermione. Shh, now," he breathed. "All we can do now is hope that Damon is captured and justice for Joely is served."

Draco wanted desperately to be permitted to show his pain and prove that he wasn't as cold and heartless as he relished in making others believe, but a tiger can't change its stripes so he still wanted to convey that he was still fierce when he wanted to be. He had been the strong one for so long; never authorizing the armies around his heart and soul to raise that white flag and surrender to pain and love, and not even thinking about feeling, or letting another make him feel, unless it was the feel of joy in being a Malfoy, and thereby blessed with superiority in all ways. Fearing to feel and love was then, and now, having surrendered his armies to a cavalry consisting of a single female, was a new beginning. Now, he wanted his opportunity to be held and show that he was human, and he was staying solid in his old ways of being the stronghold.

"Let's sit down before you collapse," Draco whispered to Holli. Slow and steady he shifted down the wall, conjuring a pillow once on the floor and letting her rest her head on his lap.

In somber, jagged movements, Ron raised his sore and numb body off the stone cold floor and began to stagger down the corridor as though he had too many shots of Firewhiskey filling his stomach. He leant against the wall here and there in his short stepping for stability.

"Where you off to?" mumbled Harry.

"I - I have to find Lavender. I need her right now."

Harry nodded in understanding. Had Hermione not been with him presently, he would be on the advance in the same style of search. Everyone needed someone at this moment, and he was for the first time actually feeling sorry for Malfoy to the point where he felt he should at least acknowledge the Slytherin's loss. Harry was feeling guilt wrench his belly in a pain worse then keeping his relationship with Hermione a secret from Ron. Had he listened to Draco yesterday when he had ordered that they return to the common room right away, none would be suffering the loss of a friend, but Draco would also not be suffering the loss of an unclaimed love.

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

"Ron, are you all right?" asked Parvati when he teetered into the Great Hall as she was leaving, his flushed face gaining baffled stares. "Ron, what is going on?"

"Where's Lavender?" he lamented.

"She - "

"Ron!" Lavender screamed, running from the far end. "Oh my god! Ron, what happened? What's wrong?" she asked, enveloping him in her arms. "Do remember when Dumbledore said that Filch was attending to emergency maintenance and we had to be in the common room by eight every night? Now he's saying that the maintenance has been confined to Gryffindor Tower and we're not allowed back. There's something very odd going on, Ron. What is it?"

"Not here," he murmured, taking in shady breaths.

"All right, let's go outside, we're permitted there and the night is warm anyway."

Taking his hand and leading him outside like a mother does with her child while crossing the street, she led him to where the forest and lake met and under the tree where they had their first kiss. There, Ron crumbled to his knees, curling himself into a ball. Immediately, Lavender plummeted to the ground, trying to force Ron's face to look at her.

"Ron, you're scaring me! What happened? What is going on in the common room?"

"She's dead," he cried, rocking himself.

"What?"

"She's dead! Joely's dead!"

"Merlin!" she gasped. Lavender's stomach created a chasm for her heart to sink to the bottom of. She and Joely may not have gotten along too well; at all actually, but she was still a schoolmate; till a Gryffindor and one of Ron's close friends.

"She's gone, Lavender. Why?"

"How? By who?"

"I'm not allowed to say. No one except those involved can know. Dumbledore made us promise."

"Us? Who is 'us,' Ron? How can I help you if you won't tell me what's going on?"

"Swear to me. Swear to me that no matter what you hear from me, you will not let a soul know; not even Parvati."

"I swear."

"You swore you would stop your battle with Joely but you went against it."

"I swear, on my love for you, I won't repeat anything."

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

Draco awoke the next morning to an unsavory feeling in his neck and back; he had fallen asleep against the wall outside the infirmary. In a movement to relieve the ache, he rolled his neck down, his eyes washing up on a still sound asleep Holli. Her cheeks were still puffy from weeping. He felt groggy and disoriented from only having accumulated those few hours of sleep in the past two days. Stretching as best he could, he saw Hermione stir out of the corner of his eye.

"You were right, Malfoy."

Draco's head snapped to the side when one of the last persons he expected to openly admit about him being correct spoke. There, he saw Harry wide awake and alert as though he had been up for quite some time.

"You were right. We should have gone back in the common room to get her. She might still be alive then."

Draco sucked in a huge breath and winced as he remembered that Joely was dead. Leave it to bloody, I'm - trying - make - up - for - leaving - her - in - there Harry Potter to remind him of one of the worst nightmares of his life. It wasn't that Malfoy wasn't appreciative for Harry having acknowledged finally that he was right, but he was angry that of all times to admit fault, it had to be when the death was still fresh. Exhaling slowly as to remain calm, Draco nodded.

"She wouldn't have let us stay. She was too stubborn. I don't think she would've asked for help even though she knew she needed it." Need. Everyone required need in some way shape or form, at one point in their lives. NEED! Draco's mind burst as Joely's words of needing him alive for when it was all over came flooding back. She was not going to be keeping that word now. Should he stick to his promise to himself to hate her for all eternity for leaving him? Should he be grateful that she saved his life and try to move on? "It's better for her to be dead then suffering."

"Yeah, right," said Harry, gloomily.

"Does this mean that I'm going to be seeing those nasty Thestrals now?"

Harry chuckled. "No, you didn't see her actually die."

Just then, the infirmary doors flew open as if they had been blown off their hinges. An Asian woman in light blue, bloodied Healer robes and a man Draco recognized as an infuriated and extremely distressed, Sean McGill, came literally shooting out of the ward. Holli and Hermione awoke abruptly.

"You can't leave now!"

"There's nothing else I can do!"

All four students' attention was wired and hot with want to understand what was being said.

"There has to be!"

"Sean, you and I both know that there's only so much injury and damage a body can take. There is a line, and Joely is pushing that line. She's always pushed lines!" said the Healer gravely. "But this is too much! Damon has done one hell of a job on her this time! I didn't even know where to begin with healing her!"

"You're specialized in curses! You're paid to help people like Joely!"

"And I have! Sean, what Joely has, has not even been called upon to be tested. It's not as though she can be used as a guinea pig to find out more material on what Damon has done to her. Who in their right mind would allow themselves to subject to blood magic, a love curse at that, so that a magical cure can be found? I have been aiding and researching Joely's case since she was thirteen! For three years I have dedicated helping your daughter get through this. There is no known magical cure apart from Damon releasing the curse himself, and you and I both know that wish is a laugh in the face. You know what needs to happen and you also know that the likelihood of those parameters being granted to her is slim to none. Who would fall in love with someone under a curse?" she shouted, her doubt in the possibilities showing brutally.

"Tahama, don't make me say goodbye. Please, don't make me say goodbye to my only daughter; to my only child."

"I don't want her to die anymore then you do - " The spirits of the three Gryffindors and one Slytherin lightened. Joely wasn't dead! "But I have nothing else to go on. Healer Witwer in there is the best curse specialist not only in England, but in the world. I studied under him at the Healer University in Paris and if he is out of options, when what could I possibly offer?"

"You know her better then those St. Mungo's Healers do! You know what her body can handle."

"Seeing what's been done to her even frightens me of Damon! I'm not going to inflict more pain on her just because you can't face the facts that you might have to say goodbye, Sean! I'm about healing pain, not inducing it. How dare you even ask me to subject her to that!" she yelled.

"I can't lose my daughter," he cried, running a trembling hand through his dirty hair.

"She's had eight attacks since you've moved here, right?" Sean nodded. "That means that in the three years I have known her, she has had twenty seven attacks. Twenty seven times those wounds have opened and bleed, nearly depleting all life from her. Twenty seven times she has overcome that pain. Twenty seven times she should have died! There is something that she's fighting for.

"I know I'm being pessimistic in what I'm about to say, but it's what I believe. I honestly don't know what Joely's fighting for anymore. Whatever it is, she wants it badly enough to fight through this. There are so many reasons! Maybe it's because she wants to prove to Damon that he can't break her and control her like he thought? Maybe she does it to feel that Cody didn't die in vain? Maybe it's for herself, or because she knows you can't say goodbye? Or even better, there's someone else out there for her and she knows it. I don't know. Whatever it is, it's a damn good reason."

"What about your oath?" Sean hissed.

"My oath?" Tahama returned in the same spitting tone.

"Yes, your oath! You took an oath that you would do everything in your power to help someone in need, especially in the curse aspects of ailments. You swore to give medical attention to everyone!"

"God damn it, Sean!" she screamed. "I have done everything I can!"

"No you haven't!"

"I'm not going to argue this with you like a three year old!"

"No," he broke down, "you haven't.

"Listen well, Sean Harrison McGill. Her heart is practically in pieces, her sternum cracked in half when she crashed to the ground, and that there, is enough to kill anyone. Dying of a broken heart is possible. She looks like a giant bruise. Her back is shredded; her spine having been barely missed and thank god that Madam Pomfrey stopped her internal bleeding otherwise she really would be dead. Be thankful that she's alive and breathing on her own. Cherish the time you have."

"Excuse me," said Hermione, "did you say that Joely's alive?"

Tahama smiled warmly. "Yes, she is."

"Harry, she's alive!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

"Is she going to die, Tahama?"

The smile on the attractive face of the Asian woman face melted like wax to a flame. "Sean, if you're looking for a date, or a time frame of any kind, not only am I the wrong person to ask that, but there is no answer."

"Just tell me."

"The next forty-eight to seventy-two hours are the most critical, the restart of internal bleeding is most promising then. I'll be flooing in every day, and sending floo messages every few hours to check on her progress. It can be slow, and it can be fast. Joely's not really a fast healer with these attacks, so I'm not going to make promises. Look, Noelle is falling apart, she needs you now. Take care of your wife and yourself, and let Poppy take care of your daughter."

"But - "

"No, don't give me that. There is something that she is fighting for. Something has come into her life that's very special to her. Let her fight. It's all up to her and her will to live."

Sean nodded with a sulk.

"Right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like to say that I have been married at least a week before Chris divorces me," she laughed. "Oh, I don't think I'm wrong when I say that now is really the time for you to tap. Try it, Sean, you never know what you might find out. Severus Snape is quite knowledgeable about calling upon it at random. Noelle might want to have a sit down her with mother too."

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

Closing his door to a trying - to - be - sympathetic Pansy, Draco rested his back against the door, breathing deeply in and out to stifle his anger and frustration his dark-haired housemate was causing him. He knew that she meant well, but her intended meanings could often be misconstrued as signs of loneliness instead of sincere sympathy. He did give her credit where warranted for persistence in investigation of problems with those she cared about, but at the present, she was aggravatingly persistent to an unwilling speaker.

"Pansy, for the last and final time, I'm all right."

"Do - "

"No," he interrupted forcefully, his teeth bearing, "I don't want to talk about it."

Slinking down the wooden shield from the inside, Draco leant his ear against door to listen for the clicking sound of Pansy's shoes, confirming to him that he had won this time and she was retreating.

Basking in the silence of alone time, he glanced curiously up at his calendar on the wall by his desk. This had been a tormenting week to say the least. As a sign of solace and cheer in another day having passed, he X-ed off each day that had been completed, waiting for the arrival of an agonizingly slow tomorrow. Tomorrow was the day that Madam Pomfrey had promised him (nearly having to have signed a contract to assure Draco that she would indeed keep the vow) he would be permitted to see Joely. She questioned him and the trio in wonderment if they still planned on coming even though she was still comatose and would not be alert to them. Draco cared not about her inertness, he wanted to see her tomorrow, and nothing was going to stand between him and her bed.

X-ing off Friday, he shrugged off his clothes and entered his bathroom to soak off today's and the entire week's worth of grime after having worked side-by-side with the "Golden Trio" in defending Joely. Not much could be done about ceasing new rumors being born, or the present ones from spreading, but their mutation was under a good wrap. The hardest gossip to dispel and or revert to a somewhat truthful understanding, was a baroquely transformed piece of information on Joely that flat out stated that she had offered up Draco and the trio to save her own skin.

When the trio, and Ron especially, had found out that the loathsome rumor had been concocted by Lavender, things had gone downhill for the Gryffindor couple. Such a blatant disregard of Ron's wishes for Lavender to cease her tirade was not tolerated, resulting in his tirade of straightforwardness in ending the relationship. Her ruthlessness against someone who could not defend herself had also roused a fight within Hermione, she in turn halting all conversations and friendly affiliations with Lavender until further notice.

Funny what a hot bath will do to a solid block of tension, thought Draco, referring to himself as he pulled the drain plug. Standing only in a towel, he sized up the massive, black circles under his eyes shining back at him in his mirror. It had been ages since he had a restful night of sleep. Dumbledore had been right when he had mentioned reoccurring nightmares could very well be an issue. He was plagued with reminders of that day in his sleep as if his mind was afraid that he would forget. Not bloody likely! Finishing drying himself off and ruffling his towel dried hair, he kicked his clothes into a pile before clothing his body in a fitting t-shirt and pajama bottoms. Picking up his trousers and shaking them straight-legged, he saw something fling from the pocket. Shoving the dirty laundry very vigorously into his wardrobe, he picked up the picture and flung himself down onto his bed.

Turning the glossy side of the print to face him, he recognized it as the picture that he had been carrying in his pocket since before he had gone in to rescue Joely almost a week ago. He felt a clinging hitch in his chest as he looked over the muggle-ized photo to which the occupants did not move. He had wanted the print to be still as to keep the serenity he remembered from that day, the memory still very fresh.

It was of him and Joely asleep on an overstuffed couch in the library of Eagle Terrace. He felt an actual chuckle rumble low in this throat as he took notice of his matted and sticking - every - which - way hair against the arm of the sofa. Joely was laying against the back, him being her safeguard from the edge, killing the possibilities of her falling off; her head cushioned against his chest and his arm draped down her back, his hand clutching softly, but securely to her hip. This picture meant more to Draco then the prospect of beating Potter at Quidditch and returning the humiliation of defeating him for the House Cup all these years.

Placing it under his shirt, against his chest directly over his heart, he rolled onto his side and brought his spare pillow against his body; charming the feathery head rest to feel warm against him just as he had remembered her body feeling that day. Tonight, he would sleep well.

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

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, I must make you aware of a few things before I allow you to see her," said Madam Pomfrey. Draco nodded quickly for her to finish her 'few things' before he died of old age. "You may not recognize her at first glance. The swelling and bleeding have stopped on her face, but the bruising actually looks worse then it is and it's still severe bruising. I recommend only touching her hands. As you do know, she is comatose and unaware that you are here. However, if you could get her to wake up for me, I would be eternally grateful."

"How long will she be comatose?"

"That I'm afraid I cannot answer, Mr. Malfoy. She'll wake when she finds the door out of her mind. Until then, all we can do is hope for the best and that it's soon. Are you ready?"

Draco took a deep breath and said, "Yes."

Slowly as though revealing a surprise, Poppy created a gap in the curtain and ushered Draco in with a small gesture of her hand. His breath hitched in his chest at first sight. The nurse had been right, she was barely recognizable in the face, but Draco could feel her strength willing him to stay strong and believe that she would wake. Her black eyes hardly did the color black itself justice, and her arm bruises were luckily already beginning to turn yellow and twinges of green suggesting that they were healing.

"She is healing despite how she looks," said Poppy with a voice of soothing comfort. "I know it's not easy to see her behind the mask - "

"No," Draco said, stopping her statement, "I can see her. She's in there somewhere and behind it all."

"There is a chair there. I'll give you some time alone. If anything changes, please let me know."

Pulling the chair to the opposite side of the bed, Draco got as close as he could and just sat.

For what seemed to be hours, he continued to sit solidly in the incredibly uncomfortable, metal chair like a statue, watching the rise and fall of her chest, reassuring him every time that his wishes for her to be alive and well again were slowly being answered.

Slouching over, he gently took hold of her cold hand and warmed it between his; enjoying the lively pink her flesh took on.

"You've been one tough person to defend, I'll tell you that. It's always been easy for me to lie to keep people from knowing the truth, but I never thought it would be this hard to lie when I want them to know the truth. I've never really had to defend someone other then myself and my family, and even then I haven't been the best at it. I've always been the type to run to someone else for help and always got it, and all this time I've been the one you wanted to run to for help and I always denied you," he said shakily.

"Weasley ended the relationship with Brown after she told everyone that would listen that you offered us up to Damon to save your own life. I've seen a mad Molly Weasley, and both her son and daughter have her temper and fury," he chuckled, sniffling to clear his nose. "The littlest Weasley has a right hook that's a sight to anyone's eyes.

"I don't know what to do, Jem. It's so hard not to just stand up, push aside all my pride and astound everyone by screaming out the truth. The professors and Dumbledore have left all the work up to your friends and me. It's so hard, Joely.

"They don't have a clue of where Damon is, nor do they have any ideas of where to look for him or how he escaped out of here. Speculations are galore, but nothing really works other then outside help, but even your father said that wasn't probable. A little Gryffindor second year nearly had his hand blown off when he went to open his dormitory door. One of the Society's Aurors found the trap and disarmed it before the boy touched it. Granger said that your room was all but completely demolished, but nothing was missing. She did say that you had broken arrows in the bottom of your trunk, but neither is us know what those were for. Of all the things to sneak into a school, why did you pick arrows?

"Blaise is worried about you, and Tarrah is as well. He's none too happy about being banned from seeing you. He's cast quite a few nasty spells and curses on himself to just get in to see you, but Pomfrey has treated him in Snape's office with each incident. I don't know what it is about you that he likes because you're nowhere near his type, but it's something. That sod has even gone as far as to ask Ginny Weasley to cast the Bat-Bogey Hex on him," he laughed. "That one's brutal. I know you've heard about it. You need to get a flaming move on and get out of hospital. Pansy is turning into more of a mad cow and driving me nutters with constantly asking me if I need to talk, or if I need comfort.

"I never meant to hurt you, Joely. I mean that. I know I did back in September, but I never thought Pansy to be the type to come and find me. She's never been one to venture out into the corridors at night, you know? Had an awful scare from a seventh year in our second year. I used to go off on walks around the castle about every other night when I couldn't sleep, and she never followed. I don't know why this time was different. I swear I thought she was you. I went after you that night and all weekend long looking for you, but you didn't make it any easier to work things out by staying shut up in your room. When I apologized at Halloween, I meant every word of it. I really am sorry, Joely. I wish that I could take it all back, but we both know that I can't. It's like you once told me, 'As powerful as magic is, there's only one thing that it can't take away... regrets,' and believe me, I regret it all. All the fights, all the nasty pranks; those three days I spent with Amanda and not telling you about Giselle. But most of all, I regret not being here for you enough that you could talk to me about Damon. I know you said you couldn't, but if you trusted me enough to help, you should've fought through the pain and told me.

"Had I known sooner, I would've done everything possible to protect you. I never would've let him find you. I wish I could've been the person that throws caution to the wind and gone against logic to protect you. I should've listened to your grandmother from the start and not given up on you like I know I did. I gave up, Joely. I gave up fighting for you, and for answers.

"I'm sorry I'm not the person Cody was and stuck by you through it all, but I'm not perfect. I can't read your mind and know you need me when you push me away and put up this impenetrable wall that no one can get through. You have to let me in. Something you taught me is that when you need help, you have to ask for it, it's not going to come to you. I know you're going to fight me like the blazes from hell to leave you and forget about you, but I can't and I won't. I'm not going to let you try and bury what's between us. You're not going to smother this because you're afraid I'm going to meet Cody's fate. I promise that I'm going to be the one that ends this for you. I'm the solution that's waiting patiently to be discovered, and I'm here now. I need you, Jem, so much that I can actually swallow my pride and admit that I'm crying right now. And you need me too," he finished, leaning down and kissing her hand.

"I'm sorry, Draco," whispered Poppy, peeking her head into the curtain and handing Draco a box of tissues, "but I must change her bandages and Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, and Mr. Weasley are waiting outside to see Joely before visiting hours are over. I knew you wanted this time to yourself."

He nodded his head in gratitude for keeping the golden trio away, and accepted the tissues as he stood when Poppy left. With the fingers of his left hand still attached to the fingers of her right, he bent down and placed a soft kiss on her lips, thinking those three words he begged himself to say, and that she begged to hear.

"About bloody time you finished," scolded Ron.

"Ron! You are so insensitive! Are you all right, Draco?" Hermione asked.

Draco gave her a heartfelt look at hearing someone he knew despised him, and he returned the gesture, use his first name.

"Sod off, Granger."

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

Draco spent all the available moments he had between catching up in his classes and studying for final exams to be by her bedside, telling her many memories and events since they had met. If he was going to undertake the task of saving her, he knew he had to start with waking her and bringing her to life; just as she had him. He had to do what the song said and open her eyes to find where she was numb, cold, and spiritless and bring her back home to this world where he was.

Sunday came and gone in what felt to be minutes; nothing so much as a twitch of contracting muscles, or a jarring as though she was just in a dream and crying to wake up out of the horror. Nothing suggested she was alert in anyway. He tired warming her hands and face with his hands and sultry breath. He grew enraged when he could count the sheer seconds that she retained the heat before she was a block of ice again, hypothermia possibly taking her over. Draco even took the liberty of snuggling up shirtless next to her corpse-like body, enveloping her in his arms, to warm her with his own heat (Maybe she will recognize this for the closeness we once had?), only to feel comfortable and fall asleep.

Monday had offered him promising results until he become privy to information of Madam Pomfrey continuously heating Joely with Warming Charms to give him a false sense of hope that he was succeeding in bringing her back to life. She desperately wanted him to believe that his efforts weren't fruitless, but she knew that unless the coma was induced, it was up to the patient as to when they would wake; she couldn't bear to break his heart with that knowledge and have him give up. But yet his heart did break, smashed into tiny pieces to be exact, when the nurse removed the artificial warmth and she was just as numb and frozen as before.

Tuesday had been destined to the best day of all. Draco was unaware of what he was about to find in the infirmary, so he entered with the same usual glum expression to find the trio, Joely's parents, and his mother present and gathered around the bed. A sinking feeling of defeat and having walked into a death vigil washed over him; his heart blackening with hatred. She best not be dead! She promised! I swear on my life, Joely, that I will never forgive you for leaving me.

"Draco, darling, are you all right? You're white as a ghost and nearly as transparent and thin. Have you been skipping meals?" questioned Narcissa worriedly. "Young man, sometimes I just don't know what I'm going to do with you. You're father will be most unpleased with your appearance."

"She's not dead is she?" he mumbled behind his teeth. "Please tell me that she's alive."

"She's just fine, Draco," said Noelle with an endearing smile full of warmth.

"She's so warm," said Draco, kneeling next to her side and taking her hand. "Are Warming Charms the only hope of keeping her warm?"

"That is her body heat you're feeling. You've done well, Draco," said Sean, clapping his hand down firmly on to young Malfoy's shoulder.

"How's the trooper?" laughed Bridgeman as he paraded into the ward with his intentional air of royalty. "Yes, yes step aside for I am coming through. Her skin is pink again, that's good news. I sent that owl for you Noelle as you requested. It's on an urgency flight so it should reach Montana by tonight."

"Thank you, Scott. He's been pleading for news and I couldn't deny him any longer," said Noelle quietly as to not arouse suspicion.

"Has anyone heard anything on Holli and her whereabouts?"

"I received a floo from Ginette last Thursday saying that Holli had made it to Dearing Field safe and sound and sleeping as much as she would allow her to. Megan has the house being watched day and night. She asked Sean to coordinate, but she understood when he said he needed to be here."

"Good. She needs to be with her mother, and Sean needs to be here with his daughter."

"She did say that Holli would be back in two weeks for finals."

"Even better; I have a nasty final for fifth years," Scott cackled.

"Wait 'til Ginny hears that news," said Ron, the joy of tormenting his little sister glowing in his eyes. "Are we still going to have to take final exams after all this, Professor?"

"Now, Ron, what kind of Professor would I be if I let you five slack off because you've just been through a terrible and near fatal ordeal? I wouldn't be doing my job of expanding your minds now, would I?"

Ron grimaced and crunched his nose. "I thought the only person Snape's ruthlessness rubbed off on was Malfoy."

"I have my own brilliant ruthlessness, Weasley," Malfoy hissed. "I don't need coaching from anyone."

"And I wouldn't try cursing or hexing your arms or hands off either. I just happen to have Quick-Quotes Quills for such instances of students who should attempt or try such a feat," he laughed along with the other adults.

"Mr. McGill?" said Hermione in a serious tone. "Joely told me once that she didn't have a choice but to come here. Is that true?"

"Yes, Hermione, it's true," he said, staring wearily at the floor.

"Why?"

Sean looked to his wife for silent advice. The advice that he always was granted with that felt more like a reprimand for having created a situation where such questions were asked of him by another. Or maybe he was hoping that she would skip the mental scolding and save him the embarrassment of being associated with his daughter's rejection? A reprimand he did not receive, but a nod of assurance and a smile urging him to answer.

"Every other wizarding school that she applied to rejected her. Well, all but one refused her, and I was not about to send her there and have her life the rest of her life with the consequences of my family that would surely surface."

"That's horrible!" Hermione commented. "Why would a school do such a thing? Rejecting someone who wishes to learn is despicable."

"You're a muggle-born, Miss Granger, you know that not all are treated fairly in our world. What's right and wrong in their eyes is much different then in ours. Most said that they feared too greatly for their student's lives. Others, others didn't want an American; while one rejected her because of her family lineage, which I admit, is not the most respectable. Damn you, Beasal!" he cursed under his breath.

"But Professor Dumbledore was more then generous to allow Joely to study here," he said with a soft smile as he knelt at the foot of her bed. "You should've seen it though," he chuckled. "She pitched one bloody of a fit to stay at Salem."

Draco's attention snapped to Sean, the cracking pop of his neck noting the speed of the turn. Joely had told him that she welcomed the change to attend Hogwarts. Another lie?

"She didn't want to come here?" asked Harry with a crunched forehead.

"Good Merlin, no! Day and night and even in her sleep she refused to move. Her mother and I used to have the biggest laughs watching her tumble about in her bed, threatening to hex her pillows to pieces as though they were her mother and me if we left America. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary for her to wake up the next morning asking why she was covered head to toe in feathers."

That had seemed to lighten the tension a bit as chuckles, chortles, and even a few nasal snorts of amusement filled the ward. Even a heart belly laugh from Harry brightened the room.

"She ran away once, but never did again once she found out that her father and I had Tracking Charms on her," Noelle giggled. "We found her 'hiding' at her friend Tyler's house, as if we wouldn't have known to look there for her first. She had nowhere else to go but there. She even threatened once that she would voluntarily join Damon in his cell in Grimwood Prison and grant his killing of her before she would live here in England."

"But she seems happy here," said Hermione quickly. "Well, seemed happy. She never let on that she disliked Hogwarts."

"Oh she is happy here," said the McGill matriarch to comfort anyone's looming doubts. "In all honesty, I don't think she would pass up the chance to return to America as she had to leave behind a long history there, but she enjoys it here very much."

"What changed her mind?" enquired Ron, nervously.

"Oh," stuttered Mr. McGill, "to be truthful, many things, most of which I'm not privy to. But of those many, and one of the main to be direct, was that she gained friends she never thought she would; friends that she never expected nor thought she deserved. And they're Gryffindors to boot!"

"So is - " But Ron was stopped quickly when Draco reached to the side of him and stomped on Ron's foot.

"Your babbling is unwanted, Weasley," Malfoy commented. "What about the paramount reason?" he asked in a whisper.

"I don't think that's all that puzzling, Mr. Malfoy," Bridgeman answered with a crooked grin.

"As much as it pains me to say it, Scott's right," said Sean, looking Draco in the eye.

"Can you blame me?" Joely groaned as she groggily opened her eyes and moved her fingers in Draco's hand.

"Hey," Draco whispered, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles, but she pulled her hand away.

"Who wouldn't want a chance to see a giant, backstroking squid?"

"She can't move, less hold her eyes open, but she can still crack jokes," laughed Bridgeman.

"Someone has to keep up the tacky American image."

"That's my girl!" cheered Noelle.

"How're you feeling?" spoke Narcissa.

"Ask me again when I can actually feel my fingers rub against each other."

"What is all this raucous?" grouched Poppy. "Oh great Merlin, she's awake!"

"Great news, I know," Joely growled as she tried to sit up.

"Be careful," warned Hermione.

"Let me check your pulse. Yes, nearly normal, but above average heart rate is to be expected. Temperature - yes, yes that's nice. Color - pink. Reflexes - "

"Ow, god!" Joely cried as the nurse whapped her knee with a rubber mallet. "That hurt!"

"It's just a check for feeling, deary. Now stick out your tongue."

"No."

"And why not?" Poppy pouted.

"Have you ever smelt dragon's breath? That's just a faint and distasteful smell compared to what my mouth is harboring. Just let me get up and brush my teeth - "

"No!" everyone shouted. Joely goggle-eyed them.

"You can't get up just yet, love," said Sean. "You don't have use of your legs."

"I'm paralyzed?" she gasped.

"They've atrophied from lack of use and blood loss. You've been out for about a week now. You're just going to need a bit of help strengthening them," said Noelle. "Help will be here tomorrow."

Joely nodded, though grimaced internally. If it happened to be the same physical therapist she had endured once before, she was currently considering spending the rest of her life in bed or getting by with the use of wheelchair. Christina Hasselman was just what her last name began with: a hassle. She was one tough cookie who took the phrase "No pain, no gain," to the limit. The memories of endurance tests where still fresh in Joely's mind.

"Are you guys okay?" she asked.

"We're fine," said Harry, winking.

"So when do I get my just deserved yelling?"

"Yelling?"

"Hermione said you were going to save the yelling for when this was over."

The trio and parents laughed while Draco remained fixated on her; his eyes refusing to blink for fear he might miss something and be on a backwards track away from her once again. Where do you get all your strength? He didn't understand it, and for Draco Malfoy to admit that should've been a recorded event. He rationalized that she should be dead, even the specialist in Joely's case said so. But here she was, alive and trying to make everything cheerful again. Was it to try and make everyone forget the horror they had been inflicted with for two days?

"We've agreed to forego that," Hermione chuckled. "It's over and done with now, and it would be childish and immature to bring it up again so long after the fact."

"You look like Bill and Charlie used to when they would fight over the last cookie," said Ron, unceremoniously.

"Thanks, Ron, I appreciate that tremendously," Joely scoffed. Who needed to be told that you looked like something the cats drug in because the dogs wouldn't have it?

"You definitely have a way with words, Weasley," jived Draco.

"Malfoy - "

"Take the pissing contest outside, will you?" said Joely gruffly. Though, whether that was sarcasm or and order was undistinguishable. "How's Holli?"

"With her mom," said Noelle, walking up to aid her daughter in trying to sit up. "Megan saw to it she arrived safely, and they're well protected."

"Good. Ouch, Mom, that hurts!"

"Easy on the movement of your upper torso," said Poppy, pouring a chunky liquid into a glass. "You're sternum was broken and the bone punctured through. I can remember a time when Mr. Potter here was badly off just as you are now."

"One more scar to add to the bunch," she whined like a two-year old, looking down her hospital gown.

"Which reminds me that are few personal matters that Sean and Noelle need to discuss alone with their daughter," budged in Scott, jumping into action as though his comment was a quick revelation and shooing the students toward the towering exit. "Plus, the four of you have homework, no doubt. I know that I gave you an essay on Manticores due next class."

"Draco, walk me out, darling," said Narcissa, taking his elbow into a handhold.

Silence reigned in control as they slowly meandered down to the main entrance way and down the marble staircase to the front doors. This was aggravating silence. This silence was confirming over and over again for Draco that at the best opportune moment, his mother was going to blow him away with questions or statements that he would undoubtedly be brooding over until dawn. The silent treatment was a favorite of hers. The moment had arrived as they stepped out onto the grounds, silence was gone.

"Do you love her, Draco?" she asked suddenly, as she always did. Draco was incredibly caught off guard and snapped his arm away from her grasp.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" Narcissa replied, that mother-knows-her-son-too-well look on her face, and it glowing proudly in her icy blue eyes. "The question is not hard to follow, darling. I'm simply asking you to reach deep down within yourself and tell me if you love her. Is that too complicated of a matter for you to take on? Do you find that harder to solve then promising to abolish a curse that even though it has a cure, it will never been known to the one who can cure it?"

"Malfoy's do not love, Mother," Draco answered gloomily. "You should know that to be true."

An uneasy and cramping quietness filled the space between and around them as though they were in a cocoon or bubble, blocking them from the outside world. Draco's ears went deft and his knees locked together to show posture against his mother's delving mind. It wasn't a wonder that she had been used as an interrogator during the wars; she was damn good at breaking people into pieces, their words dribbling from their tongues of the wanted information.

"That's where you're preposterously wrong, Draco," she returned with a bit of curious face. "We love quite well, if not eccentrically wisely. We love who we know will make us happy like no other could even dream of doing. We mark what's ours, and only allow ourselves to be marked by that one. It may be instantaneous, it may be months, years, even decades before that one is found. But we do love, and for all eternity."

Before Draco could get a word in edgewise, his mother quickly bid her goodbye and set out promptly on a swift walk to the gates of Hogwarts; leaving in her wake, a mind boggled (as always after her bombardment) Draco.

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

"Get your arse moving, McGill."

"I am moving, you twit!"

"If you think I'm going to waste my bloody time watching you baby-step around this ward learning to walk again, you're mad."

"I never asked you to 'waste your bloody time,'" she repeated in an English accent, "and help me walk again! You volunteered! Oh, and in case you don't know what volunteering means, you aren't getting paid for this, which means that you can quit any time!"

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Draco laughed, holding on securely to her hips and gently pushing her forward.

"You're so damn contradictive. First you complain about how I'm doing this, then, you refuse to leave me alone and let me do it myself. Make up your peroxide soaked mind!"

"Take that back or I'll drop you," he taunted; his sultry breath tantalizing, and prickly against her neck.

"Draco Xavier!"

"It was a joke, Mother."

"It best be a joke or you'll find yourself living alone in London for the summer holiday," Narcissa lashed out heavily to her son.

"Would that be so terrible?"

"It would be if I hexed your arms off and you were left up to one of your other mechanical or manual devices to enable you to drop the little kiddies off at school when your tension's too great."

"Joely Emmeline McGill!"

"Good one, Jem," he whispered, his lips fluttering by her ear, "you wound me."

"You squeeze my hips any harder and I'll give you a good wound across the face," she thundered.

Draco's grip eased, though the pressure and control he exuded were deathly strong. He was her net should she falter and lose control. Nets were always tight under their charges, and he stuck to that rule. Regardless of the multiple number of times she literally peeled his fingers away for a softer hold, he applied more pressure every few seconds until he was pleased with his clutch.

He groaned inwardly and took great caution in refraining from displaying his annoyance of walking up and down the walkway of the hospital ward. He may despise staying confined to one room instead of venturing out into the corridors (which she was strictly prohibited from) where she could really gain back her leg strength, but he swallowed his irked attitude and continued with the therapy. Helping her walk again and therefore abiding in her restrictions was part of the promise he made to Dumbledore, to himself, and to Joely as well, and he didn't think he would be all that comfortable with breaking another promise he made. He had never made many in his life, and now that he was, he needed to keep his Malfoy determination and keep them.

Was he regretting having promised the headmaster to take on this feat? No. Did he want to throw in the towel and quit? No. Was this turning out to be more work then he thought? Absolutely! She had just awoken yesterday, and today she was already being annoyingly hateful and whiney about getting up and strengthening her legs. He had argued in private (as not to publicly show too much care) with Madam Pomfrey that Joely was still too weak, but Poppy had confidence in her patient. Great confidence in fact. But he was astonished when the school nurse laughed in his face when he had commented on how he thought this was going to be a slow process.

"When it comes to getting up and about, Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid that 'slow' isn't in Miss McGill's vocabulary, she told him. "She forces herself into moving quickly again to keep herself from dwelling on what happened. Shutting up inside and not taking the reigns and lazing about in recovery is not going to help her overcome any of this. She needs, and she knows it, to prove Damon wrong every time that he can't break her. She needs to reassure herself that she's not broken, and the quicker she gets up, the harder the assurance."

"Tell you what," she began, "how about letting me take this over for a bit? After all, I can't walk around the rest of my life with someone holding my hips. You hold too hard anyways."

"Oh quit with the crass attitude, McGill, and let's finish this for the day."

"Got a hot date tonight, Malfoy? I bet Pansy's looking quite scrumptious right about now, huh?"

"I hadn't a date; I was just tiring of you. But as you've brought her to light, she has been looking delectable recently. Where's this help your mother said would be here today?"

"Sheesh, Malfoy, would you jump in my grave as fast as you would pass me off to someone else?" she hissed.

"Would the jumping consist of my pushing your coffin deeper into the ground?"

"DRACO!" scolded Narcissa, her deep-red face matching nearly verbatim to her blood red robes.

"You bastard!" Joely screamed, turning around to face Draco and shove him away from her. "AHH!"

"Careful, love, the last thing you need is a head injury," he winked, catching her like he had dipped her in a dance. "We wouldn't want Madam Pomfrey to have to chop off your hair, only to have Granger fix it again, would we?"

"Pick me up and get your filthy, callused, pureblood scum hands off of me," she growled through gritted teeth.

"Be wise with the words you choose in speaking of my hands, darling. It may have slipped your mind that under this t-shirt of yours lay no undergarments. A quick word and you would be topless to my eyes; bare breasted to my sight."

"You're such a horn dog," she returned as he stood up her.

"I've seen what's hiding beneath. It would be a pleasure to gaze upon it again."

"Pig."

"Tease."

"Ass."

Little did Joely know that Draco's comments were actually pushing her further away from him on her own power. Evidence of the strength returning to her lower limbs crystal clear. Only when Malfoy retorted with a compliment did she take notice of the distance between them.

"That's quite a distance you've created between us, Jem."

Okay, so it wasn't the nicest compliment ever invented, but it was a compliment on her walking independently.

Joely took in the length separating them. It had surprised her greatly. How did she get so far without taking a crashing, and rather embarrassing, spill? Her knees wanted to crumble like stale crackers, and her head was spinning in out of this world speeds.

"Oh my god, Draco, I'm going to fall."

"Hold your self up," he said sternly.

"No, Draco, please get over here! I can't stay up!"

"Stop being a baby and keep your knees locked. You're squealing like Longbottom when he's confronted by Snape."

Second after second turned into minute after minute as she stood statue-like with her knees locked painfully tight. Pearlescent drops of sweat were forming on her brow as she fought against the pain to keep her body up and off the cobblestone beneath her, and from being down at Draco's shoes and him inserting a comment about kissing his shoes.

Slowly she opened her eyes to see two mothers and Draco observing back uncertainly as she teetered to the sides. Holding up her hand to halt an advancing Draco, she stood firm and told him that he could no longer be her walker. It was now or never, and she chose now. She had been using her own strength now for five minutes; it was time to move on and become able bodied again.

As though turning on a dime, she eased herself around to face the ward doors, making a silent pact with herself to reach those doors on her own. Those doors were her only way out of this suffocating ward and she needed to open them and let her out into the open. She was grateful for the help that Draco provided (more grateful then she was willing to admit), but now was her time to shine. Now was her time to depend solely on her will to survive and confirm once again to Damon that he couldn't break her.

First she drug her right foot along the floor, followed up with a dragging sound against the floor that was her left, the foot passing by the right and being placed in front to do the step all over again; gradually pushing her hips and upper body into alignment with her feet. She nearly fell backwards when the wind that billowed from the bursting open ward doors crashed into her.

There stood her smiling father and a grim Tyler.

"Oh Merlin, Jammers," he gasped, covering a hand to his mouth. "I had no idea."

"Tyler," she cried, reaching her arms out in front of her, calling out to him to hold her.

In two swift strides, he picked her up and hid the two behind an enclosed bed around five down from her assigned bed. The two falling down onto the cot could be seen from the silhouette in the curtain, and heard in the squealing springs of the mattress.

"I knew you were alive, but no one would tell me anything. They wouldn't even let me leave my house," he whispered as she lay atop him. "I was so scared. They just kept saying that things were being sorted and files were being opened. You can't die on me, Joely. Please don't leave me. I need you."

"I'm not leaving you, Tyler. I'm not going anywhere. We're in this fight together; you're my savior."

Draco stiffened his spine to prohibit his display of self-pity.

"Why didn't you or Holli tell me that he was coming? Both yours and Holli's files have been opened and word it out that Patrick Killebride is handling it all." Joely gasped at this news. Killebride being involved meant things were out of control and failing further as time progressed. "The Society tried to hide Damon's escape, but word leaked out at Rufus Turner's funeral. The shit has really hit the fan."

"I know that name."

"He was a Level One at Grimwood," Tyler answered.

Joely shuddered. "I hate that place. He wasn't the one with the children, was he?" she asked wearily.

"He had one on the way," he said morosely. "The mother miscarried later that day after the funeral."

"Oh God!" she moaned, burying her face in his shirt and gripping the fabric. He squeezed her tighter for comfort; her heavy breathing evening out with his caresses to her back. "I can't live this life anymore, TJ. I can't."

"TJ? You haven't called me that since we were nine and you got mad at me when I poured mud all over your bed," he laughed.

"You remember that?"

"I took my Gingko Biloba this morning." That got the humorous reaction he wanted. "You'd be surprised what I can remember," he smirked. "Do you remember Christmas of fifth year?"

"I'm trying to forget everything from the past sixteen years until this very moment, right here, right now with you. There's more bad than good than I care to remember, and I can't really recall anything that could be considered great."

"If this is your way of trying to milk sympathy out of me, you're not going to get it."

"I don't want pity. I just feel as if I'm going nowhere with this; I'm fighting a losing battle, Tyler."

"Five scars are gone, that's huge progress!"

"And two remain!" she shouted, sitting up and straddling his torso. "The worst two remain, and though it's not curse related, I've now got this one on my chest to contend with."

"Let me see," he said.

Draco sneered with malice.

"Has that ever stopped you? Cover them up like you've always done. Become your vain self and hide them. You're copping out, and if you do, you can erase any thoughts you had about me helping you. What happened to you saying a few minutes ago that you and I were in this together?"

"Call these past few minutes to be an epiphany that I'm alone in this fight."

"You love to swim in self-pity, don't you?"

"I am not pitying myself."

"Yes, you are," he rolled out with a chortle.

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are," budged in Draco, peeking around the curtain.

"Shut up, Draco!"

"So Greene and I get the bruising side of your temper because we're right? How very mature of you. You need to make up your mind at who you should be mad at because it's neither Greene nor I."

"Shut up!"

"Knock it off, now," railed Tyler, smacking Joely on the thigh at her reddening eyes. "You hurt him, I hurt you. We clear?"

"Oh, Draco," she giggled, "it seems Tyler has changed orientation and has an interest in you. Should I get sappy and make out the wedding invitations?"

"Actually, he has to deal with your whining butt when I'm not here so I have to appreciate and respect him for putting up with you. Besides, you really need to learn to control that anger of yours."

"What is this, bash me day?"

"That could be easily worked out. I have a number of things I could unleash from my mind that would make you crawl into a corner and cause Draco to laugh his pants off," teased Tyler.

"Wait just a damn minute! You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I'm always going to be on your side, Jammers. I love you too much to see you fall."

"Then help me get out of this ward because it's driving me mad."

"Help yourself off me first. Good," he answered as she stood next to the bed on her own power, "now walk to Draco."

Every step that she took in advancement toward Draco, he took on back away from her; increasing the distance between them for her to conquer. He thrilled in watching her temper flare as her goal seemed farther and farther away.

"Would you hold still so I can get to you?" she yelled.

"You expect me to make this easy for you?"

"You're an ass."

"Watch your mouth, young lady," said Noelle roughly.

"I'm your favorite arse though, aren't I? All right, I'll stop here and you reach out to me from there. No walking."

"You're really going to make me work for this, aren't you?" asked Joely as she nervously eyed the solid five foot distance between their statue bodies. Draco was asking her to stand still and reach her hands and arms to take hold of his hands. "Draco, I can't, I'll fall."

"Are you going to stand there and whine, or are you going to do as you're told?"

Swallowing all her fierce urges and bitter cravings to lash more insults out at him, she slowly and steadily bent her body double - working against the tightening in her chest of her once broken breast bone - reaching her hands out inch by inch to touch his fingertips; her body wavering and teetering in small, unbalanced moves. The range between them decreased gradually until Draco took an uncalculated step backwards and then jutted out forwards when Joely fell toward him when his sudden step had caught her off guard when she was so close. Both tumbled into a pile on the floor.

"What an event that was," said Tyler, annoyingly, as Joely laughed ridiculously while Draco groaned in agony.

"Oh come on, Malfoy, I'm not that heavy."

"Your - knee - my - "

"Oh god! Sorry," she answered quickly, relieving the pressure that her knee was exerting on Draco's groin. He arched his back in pain. "I guess I damaged the goods, huh?"

"I'll let you know next time I try to use them," he ground out in-between panting breaths and slowly standing.

"It's best that I bid everyone a goodnight," said Narcissa, jovially. "Goodnight, darling," she said to her son, pulling him down for her to kiss his cheek.

"Goodnight, Mother."

"We best get going too, Sean. We have that appointment tomorrow," said Noelle, gathering her traveling cloak.

"What appointment?" said Sean oddly, eyeing his wife with concern.

"That appointment with Megan," she hissed through her clenched teeth, darting her eyes toward the teenagers.

"Oh yes, right," he cottoned on to his wife's meaning to leave the children alone. "Yes, very important meeting indeed! Well, goodnight, everyone."

"Goodnight!" they returned.

"Was it just me, or was that too entirely planned?" enquired Tyler.

"Oh no, that was planned," Joely chuckled.

"Well seeing that it was intentional and we won't be expecting them back, anyone up for a tantalizing game of Strip Poker?"

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

"You don't have to return to your common room if you don't feel capable," said Poppy as she changed Joely's bandages for the final time.

"You said it yourself, Madam Pomfrey, hiding instead of facing what I've caused is only going to make me sulk and feel sorry for myself. I can't dwell on it any longer. I have to take responsibility and face the music."

Today, Saturday, was the day that Joely McGill was leaving the infirmary. With Draco and Tyler's help, and verbal encouragement from friends and family, Joely was walking tall again. Well, almost tall, she still had her head hanging low with anxiety about her upcoming return to Gryffindor. Guilt ran through her like a bullet train, speeding toward its destination. She tried not to show it, but this bullet train of guilt was on a crash course to her heart; not allowing her to forget what she had put her friends through.

Things had finally seemed to on the up when Thursday rolled around and Tyler accused her of intentionally lacking in trying to walk again. That had burned her into a charcoal briquette. He knew how difficult if was for her to get back on her feet; he had been through this "physical therapy" bit with her before. She cursed him with a memory of when he had broken his leg four summers ago and vowed to let it heal in the muggle fashion: in a cast. She reminded him over and over again about his constant whining and how long it took him to get the strength back in his leg.

He decided that the best way to get her moving again was to force something upon her that she fiercely hated until she was walking normal again enough to stop it with physical power and not magical. She screamed out deadly curses and hexes that could kill many at once that she wanted to use on him; actually shouting curses she could use loud enough to rouse the dead, him narrowly dodging each one that she could legally use when he turned on the wireless to the genre of music she despised most: country.

"I got friends in low places where the whiskey drowns, and the beer chases my blues away. And I'll be okay," he sang, actually howling out the pitch for the word blue. His voice was anything but pleasing to the ear.

"Do you hear the werewolves in the forest calling out to you? You sound like their mating call!" Joely ranted, covering her ears tightly.

"How do you know what their mating call sounds like? Is there something you need to tell her about your relationship with animals, my annoyingly slow-paced, bitching and moaning friend?" he bantered, winking.

"Turn it off!"

"Well I guess I was wrong, I just don't belong. But then, I've been there before. Everything's all right, I'll just say goodnight and show myself to the door."

"Tyler Jacob Greene, turn that crap off, damn it! Now!"

"Hey I didn't mean to cause a big scene. Just give me an hour and then, I'll be as high as that ivory tower that you're living on."

"Tyler!"

"Then get your butt over here!"

For two solid and agonizing hours she listened to him "croon" out some of the worst country tunes to date. Credit was given for it worked, and she proved it by throwing the wireless on the cobblestone floor and gloating at it now being in tiny pieces.

She was left in solitary on Friday to perfect her strides, and Madam Pomfrey promised to allow her exit from the ward on Saturday. To Joely, this day couldn't have come fast enough. Now was the day to grow up and look ahead.

Making sure that she had everything that she had accumulated while in the ward, and all her school books, she stepped out into the corridor on her journey back to the "common room o' doom" as she had named it. The scared child in her named every room where something involving her dispute with Damon took place. Any room where he had inflicted pain was entitled. The corridor made her feel odd; almost exactly the way she had felt her first night here. Even with the last glows of the setting sun giving the length warmth, it still felt eerie, much too uncomfortable and incredibly unwelcoming.

Fear ravaged and devoured her like a famished beast when she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Even the inebriated humor resonating off the Fat Lady and her tea time guest from the consumed boxes of chocolate liqueur filled truffles littering the bottom of the painting was of no aid in the ebbing her anxiety. The reasoning for her fear was not for what had happened to her, it was for the lives of her friends, housemates and possibly schoolmates that she had nearly been the death of. She had never endangered so many innocents at once before, and guilt rightly ate her alive.

"Lovely evening for tea and truffles, wouldn't you say, dear?"

"Quite," Joely jittered out.

"Have a truffle. Go on. Take only one though for they are a bit - hic - strong - hic."

"No thanks. Canis Major."

"Good evening to you then (Yes - even - hic - ing)."

Joely's belongings bombed to the floor with a hard thud at what she entered into. Apparently Gryffindor had decided to throw a party. Odd though it was; she had heard that parties were usually in the common room for cheer once final exams were over and the official end of term was upon them. We haven't even had finals yet, she thought. McGonagall is going to have a coronary.

The music wasn't too terribly loud, but created enough noise that it would surely disturb the spiders lurking outside along with the intoxicated Fat Lady. They knew what they were doing in planning this bash. Bottles and bottles of Butterbeer along with Honeyduke's sweets and party favors from Zonko's were weighing down on the three huge study tables in the common room. She forgot that this had been a Hogsmeade visiting Saturday.

Pillows were strewn about which really wasn't uncommon to see even if a party was going on. She did chuckle when noticed the fire in the hearth charmed to flash bright colors and pulse to the beat of the rock music filling the space. The spinning mirror ball floating above was something she never thought she'd see. It was just like being back in America at a weekend party. Everything was happy, exciting and all out explosive in fun.

Hoping to go unnoticed, she grabbed her things and ducked her way up the girl's staircase. Looking around the bend when she heard giggling, she caught a glance of a pair of snogging fifth years. She quickly darted away and hurriedly said the new password into her dormitory. She breathed a sigh of relief and gratitude to see her room back together in a neat and orderly fashion. Of course Hermione wouldn't let the room lie in shambles, but she was grateful none the less. Her bed was neatly made and it was easy to see that sleep was not a common use of this bed. It looked stiff and comfortless while Hermione's by comparison looked cozy and welcoming for the sleepy. Since January when she returned from holiday, the land of nod had not been kind to Joely, which made her temper all the more in tolerable.

The blown to bits bedside tables and damaged wardrobes were repaired and looked just as they had when she first arrived. The spattered ink Hermione mentioned tattooing the walls was gone; the derogatory words defacing the walls and mirrors in the bathroom was missing. I wonder if Filch is sick of Mrs. Skower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover yet. Everything was perfect and the only bit of Damon that remained was his essence, which was bothersome in itself. She cringed at the thought of how much money her father issued out to fix the damages done to her common room and dormitory.

Putting her belongings away, she sat on the side of her bed and rested her head in her palms.

"Welcome home," said Hermione, gently closing the door behind her.

"Thanks," Joely mumbled into her hands.

"How're you feeling?"

"Guilty."

"Good, you should." Joely's head snapped up and gave an odd look to Hermione. "I meant that you should feel guilty about weighing so much on your shoulders."

"Wrong guilt trip, Mya."

"No one blames you, if that's what you're afraid of," she replied, taking a spot of bed next to Joely. "It wasn't your fault. Believe me. I'm Hermione Granger, know - it - all - extraordinaire. My knowledge is supreme so therefore what I say is law and the utmost truthful."

"Keeping your nose in all those books really does stroke your ego, doesn't it?"

"Knowledge is bliss," she laughed.

Joely returned the snigger. "Ignorance is bliss."

"I guess that explains why Crabbe and Goyle are always so giddy."

Joely gasped in a jovial way. "Did I just hear the Hermione Granger talk ill of a student? I'm ashamed of you."

"Why don't you set aside you shame to the bottom of your priority list and come have some fun. Dean and Seamus thought this party would be a great way to relax before exams. They organized it all yesterday and had everyone that would be attending bring back a few bottles of Butterbeer and sweets from Hogsmeade today. Masterminds," she snorted.

"I'm not really up for partying right now, Hermione."

"Not even for an hour or so? It might do you some good to be among friends. Blaise and Tarrah are here; they've been wondering when you were coming back. Come on, it'll be great."

"Okay."

"Melinda Borders!" screeched Hermione to the snogging couple around the bend. "I should report you to Padma about this. And you, Jamie Jergen! It's a good thing Malfoy's not here; both of you back in the common room immediately."

"Merlin, Hermione, scare the piss out them why don't you? Sometimes you emulate McGonagall to the point you scare me," said Joely as the Ravenclaw and Slytherin fifth years flew down the stairs.

"Part of our job descriptions as being prefects is to correct inappropriate behavior."

"Does that mean that I can take off points for when Blaise and I found you and Harry in a rather compromising position in February?"

"Cork it, you," she snickered when they reached the landing.

"I heard you say that Draco, I mean Malfoy, wasn't here."

"Seamus said that if he could control his hostility towards Gryffindors for one night, he could come. He stayed for maybe half of an hour, but Lavender decided to try and get a little hot with him to make Ron jealous, so he left. Ginny told me that Ron's taken a bit of an interest in Loony Luna Lovegood."

"Who?" asked Joely as she flinched, popping the top off a bottle of Butterbeer.

"Luna Lovegood, one of Ginny's Ravenclaw friends. She helped out with going after Sirius last year and with the DA. Her father owns The Quibbler. Harry and Ron are right over there, sitting on their arses as usual. Harry!"

"Don't know her."

"Hey, Joely," said Parvati, "how're you feeling?"

"I'm all right."

"I'm really sorry about what Lavender said about you giving up your friends to save your life." Parvati never noticed Hermione's violent head shake signaling that that topic was not to be mentioned, now or ever. "Truly, I am."

"Thanks, Parvati. It's nice to hear that, really."

"Good to hear that you're all right. Seamus!" she yelled, turning away.

Joely eyed Hermione then quickly shoved her hand in her face. "I don't even want to know. I'm just going to wash my hands of everything that Lavender has said and move on."

"Good. Now, c'mon, Harry and Ron are waiting."

Joely scanned the occupants of the common room as she dragged her feet along the floor. Some of every house were dancing the night and stress of studying away. All felt so calm and relaxed, Joely felt calm and relaxed, it all seemed to be big and bright with careless minds just wanting fun. But how long would it last? How welcoming would this common room be once it all was out in the open like Dumbledore warned about? Would there be any room for Joely in this world?

"Welcome back to the world of the living," said Harry.

"Thanks," she returned, pulling both the raven-haired and ginger-haired friends into a hug. Warmth swallowed her.

"You look better," said Ron, taking a swig of his drink.

"I feel better. Still a bit sore and my legs aren't quite up to the speed that I want them to be, but I think it's working out okay."

"Did I, or did I not tell you that being among friends would help?"

Joely tapped her head. "Know - it - all, right. I forgot."

Time passed by pleasantly with energy as the four friends talked animatedly, consuming Butterbeer and sweets. From one view point, everything within and around the four appeared sickeningly, and almost unrealistically cheerful. It was almost like the ending of a child's fairytale. But again, the questions were asked: How long would it last? Would there be any room for Joely in this world once everything was made public?

Every now and then, Harry and Hermione would sneak a kiss or a peck on the cheek. On such occasion, Ron would set off a few of Fred and George's famous Kissing Kate Fireworks that exploded in shapes and signs of love when detonated. The loneliness in his heart could be easily seen on his face when he activated the fireworks. But countless times he assured Joely that he was all right and handling the separation like an adult while Lavender was worse off. The very last fireworks he set off, Joely choked him for humor; the sappiness of it all was a bit overbearing.

Even when it neared midnight, the party was still going strong. Couples and groups dancing to the variety of rock, pop, R&B and techno music; the refreshment tables seemed to be replenishing themselves; and by now, Hermione had warded off the stairwells to the dormitories. Everything was going rather well, so all was hoping that as the old saying goes, 'All's well that ends well' would be true of this night.

"Are you too good to talk to us now?" said Tarrah when she came up to them on Blaise's back, both wearing odd shapes balloon hats.

"Of course I am. Haven't you figured that out by now? I want one of those hats!"

"Anthony Goldstein is making them," said Blaise.

"Go get me one," said Joely as Blaise released Tarrah.

"You've got the use of your legs back. I'm not your slave. Get off your lazy arse and get yourself one."

"But I'm too good for you, remember? Now be my loyal manservant and get me one."

"No," he answered austerely, bending down and picking Joely up in a hug. "You look better," he said, placing her back down on her seat.

"Here you are, your highness," laughed Tarrah, setting the contorted and many colored balloon contraption on Joely's head.

"I was kidding, Tarrah."

"Yes, my lady, but it is my duty to serve you," she said in fake exasperation, trying to keep a straight face.

"Well, when you put it like that - "

"Button it up," said Tarrah. She left.

Blaise stayed and conversed with her whilst the trio busied around with the other common room guests; saying that Joely and Blaise were too boring for their conversation tastes and couldn't stand them any longer. Joely said that it was their own fault because they had known since they met her that she was boring.

Around one in the morning, she bid Blaise goodnight and retired to her room, tonight, hopefully her bed and the sandman would be kinder to her desire and hunger to sleep and spend an eventful time in dreamland. Standing at the bottom of the girls' staircase, she glanced over the remaining crowd, wondering about the final battle and just how Draco, Holli, and the trio saved her life. She had no doubts that Harry, Hermione, Ron and Holli would've helped, but hearing that Draco was the pushiest to come back into this room seized her. Who would've thought that he would've done that for her after her mistreatment of him?

Exiting the bathroom in a comfy tee and shorts, she dropped her glass of water when she saw the ghostly apparition of her grandmother out the window. Floating hundreds of feet off the ground was one of her favorite people she had ever known. She was the cliché sweet, old lady, but she had a fiery side that resembled that of Ginny Weasley; none finding much courage to stand up to the woman when her tempered burned white-hot. The same woman who had told her parents that her first love would be Cody, and had told Draco not to give up on her; and the only deceased woman she knew she would give her life to bring back.

She opened the window to allow the spirit to enter, but the woman only distanced herself further. The warm, end of May winds blew through Joely's hair; her eyes closing to the warmth it bestowed upon her and passed into her dorm.

"Tell them," said the misty woman, her arms reaching out for her granddaughter.

"I can't," Joely replied, opening her eyes.

"Now is the time, my child. You are free to tell whoever you wish to know the candor. Now is the time for which lies are no longer necessary."

"I'll lose them, Grandma. I can't lose them when I need them so badly."

Grandmother Kelly Crown slammed her hands onto her hips. "What have I told you about heeding your elders?" she said, feigning a forceful manner.

"I'm too selfish to let them know."

"If you respect and love them as much as I know you do, you will tell them. I've just recently caught a complete glimpse of young Draco. He's... Oh what is that word you youngsters use? Oh yes! He's hot, sweetheart."

"Grandma," said Joely warningly.

"His father is impressive as well." Joely cringed. "Draco must still find out on his own, and you great-grandfather Thackary has informed me that your headmaster Dumbledore is aiding him. He's close, my child. So very close. The love that you and he have for each other is much stronger than that at which you possessed for young Cody. It's honest and true."

"If you're implying that I'm in love with Draco, and he me, as they say here in England, you're nutters."

"There are no implications in the truth, my dear," she smiled.

Joely lowered her head, watching her feet shuffle about. "Did you ever See Draco, Grandma?"

"I did indeed, but it was only lots of white-blonde hair." Joely chuckled. "My darling, I love you very much and I do not passion you in being unhappy. I would not lie to you."

Joely stood in thought for a few moments, contemplating her grandmother's words. She did know that her grandmother never lied to anyone as she would surely regret for she knew the outcome of falsification in her visions. But could Joely really believe that Draco was in love with her? The thought and notion of him loving another other then himself was just as preposterous as the statement sounded.

"I must go now. Goodnight, my Jem. Tell your father that I still resent his choice in taking your middle name from your great-grandmother Emmeline; Victoria goes lovely with Joely - "

Joely sighed. "Goodnight, Grandma." Then, the apparition was gone.

Taking a quill, parchment and an ink well from her bedside table, she quickly scrawled out a note to Hermione saying that there were some very important matters to discuss with her, Harry and Ron tomorrow, and rested the note on her roommate's pillow. She then placed her favorite picture from the summer under her pillow, and relished in the feel of sleep claiming her.

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

"You're up early," said Joely.

"As are you two," said Hermione as she walked to the couch and sat next to Harry.

"Did you sleep well?" asked Harry as he rubbed his eyes and looked to his girlfriend for her answer.

"I feel rested, yes.

"Ron needs to hurry up before I burst," said Joely.

"The dolt might've fallen back asleep, though I did wake him up before coming down here."

"Where on Earth have you been?" interrogated Hermione as Ron staggered in through the portrait.

"Anyone up for juice and toast?"

Hermione and Harry gladly accepted while Joely profusely declined. It was hard enough to sit her friends down and load their minds with her story; she didn't need her stomach rejecting food, simulating the rejection she might be facing once finished. It would only increase the tension. She had always hoped the day would arrive where she would be able to convey to people why she had to lie in tremendous amounts, but she honestly never expected this day to breakthrough into reality.

"You wanted to tell us something?" catechized Ron.

"Yes, but first you have to promise that you're going to let me speak, and save the questions until after I'm done. Agreed?"

"Agreed," they answered.

She took a deep breath, held it for few seconds, then, began.

"I want to tell you guys the truth about this curse and Damon. I know that Dumbledore and possibly some other professors might've told you some bits and pieces, but this is coming from me. No lies, just the truth.

"When I was twelve, Damon's family moved into my neighborhood that summer; everyone was magical so everyone felt safe. We already went to school together, but we never had any classes together so I never took the time to get to know him. Well, our dads worked on the same level at the Society so they talked frequently and my dad recommended the residence for sale near us since they were looking for a new home. Damon didn't know anyone so my parents talked me into showing him around town to help him adjust and feel welcome. Needless to say, we became close friends that summer.

"When we started school, we went our separate ways and just said the occasional 'Hello' and small conversations between classes. During Christmas break, he started telling me all about the Dark Art spells and potions he was studying on his own time and all the things he could do. I thought it was just wishful thinking on his part that he could cause so much pain and damage, so I laughed and mocked him. That was my first mistake because he hit me. I thought it was just play fighting and he accidentally went too far and made contact because we used to throw fake punches and slaps at each other.

"Back at school, weird and scary things started happening all the time. Students were going missing and found chained up in this room near the dungeons," Joely's body shook violently as it always did when 'the room' was mentioned, "there were magical attacks on people; fires were being set where mass numbers of people could be hurt, and many other gruesome things. Cody and I had been really good friends since our first year at Salem together, but this night in second year, we were sneaking back to our common room from detention when we got caught by these five guys. I was magically pinned to the wall while Trace, Carlos held onto Cody, and Brian and Jeremy took turns throwing curses, hexes and physical blows at him. The fifth guy came out from the shadows and I saw that it was Damon. He said that if I hadn't have mocked what he could do, he wouldn't have had to prove himself on those that deserved punishment for who they are. When he said that and I looked at Cody, I realized that he was targeting muggle-borns. He's exactly like Malfoy in believing that magic is a pureblood world.

"By the time Easter break was upon us, everything had quieted down and seemed normal again. After the holiday break, the school pairs off the houses to hold group study sessions to begin the crackdown for final exams in the beginning of May and for inter-house union just like you've told me Dumbledore is trying to enforce here. Well my house was paired with Damon's, so when the study sessions began, he was there and was in really bad shape. He was really thin, his face was all gaunt; he looked like a solid burst of gale force winds would scatter him like dust. Afterwards, each night, he and I sat down and he told me all about how now he was friendless because when he called a stop to the attacks, he got left behind in the shuffle to think of new plans for continuation. I felt so terrible for deserting him when school started at the beginning of term, that I asked him if he wanted to pick up where he left off last summer, so we became friends again.

"Over the summer we started dating and, oh god, he was the sweetest guy, but believing in that side of him on constant basis was my second mistake. I've never liked birthdays because I'm really vain about getting older and getting all wrinkly, but he, my mom, and Tyler planned me a surprise party. It was the best birthday I've ever had and with my birthday being the same day as America's Independence Day, we had this huge fireworks display to celebrate both occasion, and that night during the show, I saw him picking on this little kid from down my street, but I blew it off: part b of mistake number two. He and I spent more time together then Tyler and I did," she laughed, but her face quickly fell grim. "But around mid-August, he picked up his Dark Arts studies again, and his little sister and mom became guinea pigs to test his powers. I got nosy about the marks over Holli's arms when she and I crossed paths one day in town, and questioned Damon about them. That was mistake number three because then I became a test animal and as they say 'third times a charm' and that third mistake was the charm that pulled me in."

"All of this in only about a year?" questioned Hermione.

"It's scary how drastically people can change when they have a taste of power, isn't it?"

"I don't understand why you didn't tell someone."

"Give me time, Harry," she reasoned. "I got lost in a shuffle when Damon's affection turned Dark. I thought that if I just stuck by his side and pleaded enough, he would change. So I took the blows and remained at his side.

"He was on a constant watch for the use of any more magic outside of class, so that's when the attacks on Holli and me became physical ones. There was this room inside Salem that even the caretaker and headmistress stay away from: Room 337. During the Salem witch trials, Salem Academy was used as a safe house, even though it's in Canada, for the real witches that were suspected. It's true what they say that witches could deaden the burning of the flames and resort to tickling sensations or whatever they chose, but children were also suspected and or some just didn't want to be arrested, so they were flooed to Salem in the Rocky Mountains of British Columbia. But, during a calling to all witches to safeguard their selves, something went wrong with the spell and dark magic took over the room. Remember that room I said the missing students were always found chained up in? Room 337 was that room. That's where Holli and I were kept when Damon was mad.

"Tyler and I didn't have any classes together third year, but Cody and I had all the same lessons, so we ended up spending more and more time together. That's when I began falling for him. Holli and I then started hiding behind Cody so to speak, and we were able to get further and further away from Damon as each day passed, until he said that Cody had won and he would leave us be. I believed him, but Holli didn't so she kept her guard up, but I let my falter completely.

"That summer was when it really mutated and got bad. It felt like not more then a few days passed where he didn't do something to me. But I still maintained telling myself that he could be rehabilitated. He learned all theses healing tricks and spells and hid the physical evidence of damage; bruises, open wounds; those kinds of things, but I still felt the pain from it. It's not that I didn't tell anyone, but even on the days that it happened, there was no physical evidence to back me up and without proof of when I say that Damon injured me, no one believed me and thought I only wanted attention. Even my parents and Cody began to doubt me.

"That summer is also when he started asking for my magic. There was a league in the States dedicated to bringing Voldemort's views to the purebloods and half-bloods. They knew about Voldemort's plans for the Tri-Wizard Tournament here at Hogwarts, and they knew about Bertha Jorkins going missing." Joely eyed Harry's shock of surprise. "Didn't think I knew about that, did you? Well, they continued to build once they were sure that Voldemort would successfully be reborn."

"I'm an aid in everyone's problems, aren't I?" said Harry.

"Some woman by the name of Bellatrix Lestrange - "

Ron choked on his gulp of juice. "Bellatrix is Sirius' cousin!" shouted Ron.

"Your godfather is related to her?" questioned Joely, her eyes narrow and alight with red and ferocity.

"She's also Malfoy's aunt," said Hermione. "Bellatrix and Narcissa are sisters." Joely gulped an intake of air. "You didn't know that, did you?"

Joely shook her head gravely, lowering it down in shame. "I knew about Aunt Bella that died in the second war, but I never thought she would be the Bellatrix."

"Why don't you finish," said the bushy-haired girl.

"Right, um, where was I? Okay, Bellatrix was passing information to someone at the Ministry who then passed it off to the league that Voldemort was going to be resurrected.

"Everyday it was the same question of him asking for my blood for its magical capabilities, or him telling me that he would let me keep my blood and my life if I joined him in bringing your First War to America. Luckily, I'm not stupid enough to have said yes, so the torturing became more frequent.

"That Christmas, several things happened; his father died and my curse was cast. Rumors were spreading that his father had been murdered, but nothing ever significant ever came of the allegations so it was ruled as an accidental death and that he had died in the car accident that claimed his life."

"But Damon was pureblood, why would his father be in a car accident when from the sound, they hate muggles?"

"Damon's father worked in muggle relations at the Society. His father is not all that different from Ron's: fascinated by muggles. He often drove to his appointments and met with the muggle relations officers of certain businesses, but oddly though, yes, he wasn't all that in favor of muggles."

"I see," commented Hermione.

"Damon asked me to help him through his father's death because they were so close. I told him no because I was afraid that it would only come back to bite me, plus, I kept too much attention on Cody to think that I'd even have time for Damon." Tears were drastically welling up in her eyes, but she always wiped them away just as they were about to fall. "I was selfish in wanting to keep myself happy that I didn't pay attention to what really needed me; which was Damon. I had no idea that his mom and Holli had moved to another house because there was a murder investigation going on when I went to see him a few days after the funeral. The house was bitingly cold and deathly eerie without the warmth his mom and sister brought to it.

"His house was built on top of ancient, underground holding cells that once housed stolen merchandise from all over the world. He turned the cells into dungeons and had a room he called 337 ½: the sister room of the one at Salem. That was..." she trembled out, the bubbles lodged in her throat clearly choking her to talk past, "that was my room. I can still feel the dampness and icy cold of the irons and shackles on my skin.

"I went over to talk and tell him that I would help him grieve about his father, but he didn't want to hear it. I knew what he was going to do so I ran. He had warded up all the doors and windows; I was trapped. You know that corridor on the fifth floor that is nothing but wall tapestries? There's a hall identical to that in Dearing Field; that's why I take a different way to Astronomy. I can't handle it because I tried to escape down a corridor like that. I threw myself down in a corner and tried to magick myself out, but it was useless. He dragged me by my hair and told me to go, only I knew that he didn't mean for me to go home. He said that I knew where to go, but I reminded him about his promise to never hurt me in that room again.

"He instead took me into this room with only one little candle for lighting on a table in the middle of the space. It was nothing by giant, floor-to-ceiling, glass wall cases of daggers that he had collected. He asked me which I one I desired and in turn I begged and pleaded to him that he didn't mean to hurt me. He said he meant every ounce of pain that he's inflicted on me and that with my pleas, I had told him which one to use. I screamed for help," she cried, letting the long held back tears flow, "but he silenced me and dislocated my shoulder, rendering my arm useless in fighting back. He had this handcrafted, ritualistic dagger designed especially for blood magic curses. He had to test its power first, and that's how I got this scar on my arm," she said, rolling up the left sleeve of her sweatshirt jacket and exposing the healed gash. "He said the curse would only work if I was unwilling and the blade would only cut and pierce if I was.

"It's a love curse. Anyone I touch or touches me were emotional feelings of love or attraction are present, causes me pain. The more pain I inflict on myself by falling for someone, the more the curse is supposed to call me toward the castor. Damon went to any measure that he could think of to bring me back to him for my magic. He hoped that if I hurt myself enough, I would come back to him and beg for the curse to be withdrawn and let him release my magic to him as payment. And I would've done that a long time ago if Holli hadn't have found out that Damon was only planning on releasing certain restrictions, and only after I forever vowed myself to him would he alleviate it all. But that would just hurt more because I could fall in love and touch without pain, but I would magically never be able to leave Damon. If the scars are touched directly or through my shirt, they open and bleed, the pain being my punishment for feeling. But if they're touched by someone who has a love to see me die, they bleed black which is the only warning that I'm tainted by dark, blood magic

"He gloated about my blood swallowing my tears on the floor and saying that blood was more powerful then anything else that existed. He laughed then petrified me and then slashed my back and cast a restriction of the curse with each wound. He reopened a few of the scars with the dagger back in the common room that day so they've disappeared and I'm no longer under the control of those restrictions, which is why I'm able to tell you all of this now, but two still remain.

"Cody refused to say goodbye and wanted to help me cope with the pain, which only brought us closer. Everyday that passed where he was still with me and helping me fight brought me closer to conquering the curse and being free again. Damon knew this. He knew that Cody was giving me the love everybody dreams of. He was giving me hope, and something to fight for that I could one day have freely and be able to tell someone that I love them, and hear the words in return. The day Cody died, I had had an encounter with Damon and ended up coming out on the downside, and to this day, I don't know how I got to Cody's. He helped bandage and ice me up and then just let me cry. I've never felt someone go so solid and steel-like with just words. We didn't even know Damon was there or how long he'd been there until we saw him standing in the doorway into the living room and clapping in mock congratulations.

"Cody told me to stay put on the couch while he and Damon battled it out. I can remember hearing Cody's wand snap, then my memory jumps to Damon's wand being pointed at my head, but the easiest thing to remember is when Damon told me to say goodbye. But I was okay with dying. I felt that it was okay that I was the one leaving and that with me gone, I wasn't risking anyone's lives. I wasn't going to be a danger to anyone anymore, and that took the fear away. The six months that Cody and I had been together had been the best. He made my life better just by being in it. Cody begged for Damon to let me go, but I blinked and the wand reversed on to Cody in slow motion. The curse sounded like a growl in my ear, then all I saw was green - green everywhere. My eyes adjusted and he was gone, dead on the floor." Hermione eased up off the couch to comfort Joely's sobbing form, but Joely pushed her away and back down on the couch. "I rushed over to him, but he was dead. The last thing I remember from that day was holding him in my arms and him whispering that he loved me into my neck.

"Damon went into hiding, but after he was captured and sentenced to life in Grimwood, the Society thought it best that my family move. We tried other schools of magic, but they refused me because my dad had to tell them about the curse and Damon's sworn vengeance to destroy me and anyone who stood in his way of accomplishing his task; so they feared for their student's lives, which is understandable. I mean, I'm not in their shoes so I don't know what I'd do if approached with a situation like mine. But Dumbledore accepted me here, I found friendship in you three, which leads me to this moment, telling you everything."

Joely didn't really know what to make of their expressions as they looked back and forth between each other. Moments passed by with an agonizing pain to her chest when she thought they were going to huddle and decide unanimously to end their friendship and order her to stay away them; never to mutter even a word to them for as long as they graced the planet. But soundless unanimous voting was even scarier as it meant that maybe there was room in their lives for her. She knew that she had Blaise and Draco, but were they enough?

"I know it's a lot to take in, but I knew you needed to hear the truth directly from me without any bullshit. I've got enormous amounts of studying to do before final exams, so I'll be in the library, okay?"

"Wow," was all that Harry stated when they were sure that Joely was gone from the common room.

"I knew she was hiding her past, but now I can see why," said Hermione.

"I can see the lies too," said Ron, wiping the shock from his face. "I just don't understand how she's kept all that in. I mean, I still remember how bad I felt about not telling Ginny that I had burned a hole in her favorite jumper and I was playing with my mum's wand when I was nine. I even remember how bad I felt when I lied and told her that I didn't know who did it. And then there's that time I told my mum that Fred ate the last cookie when I had really - "

"You've made your point, mate. Did she ever mention why Damon wanted her blood in the first place?"

"No," said Hermione with a raised tone, almost as though that piece of information was the missing climax of a story.

"He actually wanted her blood?" Ron grimaced.

"Do you remember what Sirius told us about blood lines of the old?" Harry and Ron shook their heads. "Sirius said that ancient blood lines are trying to be reproduced for the power that they hold, which is part of the reason that Voldemort needed a few drops of your blood, Harry, when he was reborn. You have a powerful lineage behind you. My guess is that Joely is like you and has a powerful ancestry, but from the way Professor Bridgeman was talking, it's a deadly and dangerous one too. With bringing out that side in Joely, and with her helping Damon destroy muggle-borns in America; connecting her current self and power with her dark blood from ages past makes for one deadly and dangerous person. Wait!" she burst out, jumping to her feet. "Do you remember her father saying that she was rejected from one of the schools she applied to because of her ancestry?"

"Do stop with the game, Hermione," hissed Ron, his temper low as his brain was chocked full.

"Don't you see, Ron? Damon was right when he said that blood is more powerful then anything. When you're in trouble, who's there for you? Your family is. Your blood is. Damon knew that if he put Joely in danger, she would resort to her family, the blood that runs within in from her heritage for help. When she called upon that magic, he would be able to take that magic and the magic she possesses on her own. Or she could join him, she would keep both magical sides, and with having unwillingly vowed herself to him, the dark magic would be ever present, she would reproduce, continue on the line with the dark aspects being dominant, making for one dangerous family. And he would even receive a bit of her through coitus because you share all of you with another. The more they come together as one, the more he would naturally be taking and she couldn't stop it.

"But blood and water do not mix, and blood is more powerful then water which is symbolic of her blood swallowing her tears the day she was cursed."

"Hermione, calm down and talk me through this," said Harry. "And what is 'coitus?'"

She grumbled and sat back down in a huff. "Coitus! Sex! Intercourse! Pick one that you understand and put it all together. It's symbolic in two ways. First, remember when Damon attacked and we heard him tell Joely that he would get her blood? He knows his magic is stronger then his, so he needs it to empower his self. His magic is like water to Joely's: Nothing. Her blood swallowing her tears was his way of symbolizing that her blood, or her magic, would take over his, making him stronger then her. But it also symbolizes Joely overthrowing Damon and destroying him. It's like Dumbledore said, 'Destroy the curse, you destroy the castor.'

"Let me summarize. Damon wants power. He doesn't have it on his own, he finds out about Joely's ancestry and knows that she possesses those levels of magic, some being darker then others which is what he needs. He asks her for it, she blatantly refuses so he needs to find some way to get it. His father dies and after all the horrible things he's already done to her, and her finding someone who loves and treats her right, she's naturally afraid that things would go back to the way they were previously and says no. He's angry and wants revenge so he casts a curse on her that would only permit her to fall in love with him without being in pain. He thinks that if she becomes tired of the pain, she'll return to him, offer her magic as payment and he'll only remove a few of the restrictions he's cast. But then when she thinks she's free, she'll in some way find out that she's not, return to him again, he would offer up her total freedom from the curse if she would forever vow herself to him. She would be able to fall in love then, but she would never be able to be with that person because magical vowing of that kind is permanent unless the castor removes the enslavement, for lack of a better word. Either with or without the curse, he's gotten what he wants and is still hurting her. Or, he would let her keep her magic if she joined forces with him, reproduced with him and he would be taking a little power from her each time through sex, her darker side would be in their children, and like I said, that would be one dangerous family."

"I think I need to ask Sirius if he knows anything about Joely's family," said Harry.

"And do ask if he knew about Bellatrix and keeping that league in America informed," said Hermione. "But I hope that you two realize that she thinks we're going to abandon her now, right?" sighed Hermione. "Even after all the lies and secrets, what should we do?"

"Ask ourselves what we would do if it was one of the other two of us," said Harry with a smile.

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

For the next week, Joely kept herself. She avoided the trio as much as possible to give them time to think and possibly decide the future of their friendship with her. She woke up with the sun each morning to be in and out of the Great Hall before the morning bombardment of students when she was actually able to stomach food. She played ghost to everyone and everything unless her attention was called upon by an authority figure.

She wasn't disputing their right to be infuriated with her, and she wasn't battling against their lack of communication with her. From day one she avoided honest questions that deserved candid answers, and intentionally falsified statements to go around her words yet still put truth in there somewhere, though minute amounts of truth it was, it was still honesty; but the all out lies was where she knew the line was drawn, and this line was none too easy to cross.

Who was she to think they could look past all her injustice and accept her back into their lives? Where did she arrive with the insane notion to think that simply because it was to protect them from her past that they should forgive and forget without hesitation? Even with those questions spinning like a tornado on the open plains in her conscience, she wanted like people in hell wanting ice water, to believe she would be forgiven. But she wanted with even more lust was to forgiven for their near execution - twice. The 'third times a charm' belief popped into play again. Hoping to be exonerated for the third time made Damon's statements true: She really was selfish.

She had moved in on their lives and accepted their offer of friendship, knowing that ultimately she would hurt them terribly. She had prayed many a nights that it wouldn't be physical hurt, but that of emotional for which she could escape from by leaving letters of penance and disappearing. She had been warned though. Oh yes, she had been warned. Over and over again her father had told her to stick to the informed and understanding people, not the unacquainted and confused. Stick to friendships with those that were aware of the facts and possibilities and distance her self from those seeking the fresh information. Truthfully though, had she followed orders, she would only have one Hogwarts friend, Blaise. But another mystery in itself was that he tenaciously insisted that she befriend Draco. It struck her odd to remember that her father had been just as adamant about Draco as he had with Damon.

Exams week arrived and verbally, all was quiet on the Hogwarts front. Knowing that these were they exams crucial to their N.E.W.T. courses next year, conversation was the last thing on everyone's minds. Yes, this year had been an N.E.W.T. curriculum, but these exams decided what your focusing curriculum would be for seventh year.

Sunday night broke and the common room was unearthly quiet. You almost felt as thought you were in a bubble designed to block out noise and distractions of any kind that wasn't conducive to studying. Everyone's minds were entirely occupied to where even the cracking of the fire was mute to the ears of the Gryffindors. Hermione's bulletin warning notice on the common room's alert board stated that those who disturbed the calm would have to answer to her, was a Herculean enforcer.

Day by day passed and students became sickeningly pale in the face; the circles under their eyes mocked raccoons. Exams were draining for any student, first year or not; but the exams being taken by Hogwarts' sixth years were a biological weapon all on their own. Symptoms of the illness were constant and those infected grew at an alarming rate. But at a stage, symptoms did vary strongly in the sexes.

At first, it was nervousness and unhealthy levels of anxiety about what these exams would hold for their future. By day two, fatigue and snapping at the tiniest annoyances were frequent occurrences. Day three brought about jumpiness resulting from over consumption of Caffeine Critters (Jelly Slugs chock full of caffeine and unnatural amounts of sugar) to fight fatigue. Day four was when the varying by gender stage hit. By day four, crying spells and puffy eyes were common among the females, while Madam Pomfrey was on heightened alert for the dispensing of Helpless Harold's Hello Hair, hair regeneration potion to the XY chromosome students. Though, both instances of variation did occur in both genders. Day five (Friday) however, was the day to which the effects of recovery began to sprout up as more sixth years bypassed food and confined themselves to their beds to become healthy again. Or was the lack of eating due to a guarantee that more faces would be in the plates and eating through osmosis, then upright and filling their bellies properly? Yes, even biological warfare was used in the wizarding world.

"Are there any spells out there to detect if your brain has turned to mush?" groaned Ron as he stretched out on the velvety, red common room couch. "My head feel slushy."

"This might help. Here," said Ginny, setting down a monochromatic pink box on her brother's stomach. "Mum sent pumpkin scones filled with cream. Be careful though, Fred said the cream is spiked with Perk Potion."

"Clam up, Ginny," Ron mumbled through a gigantic bite. "An extra does of perk never killed anyone."

"Ron," squealed Hermione, snatching the box away, "you really have to be careful with Perk Potion! If you eat too many of these, you'll sink into a very deep depression once the potion is out of your system. Even though the statement's from Fred, you should listen to him."

Ron shoved a scone deep into Hermione mouth; forcing her jaws to stay shut until she chewed and swallowed the food. "Have a scone, Hermione. If anyone needs perking, it's you."

"They should plan a surprise Hogsmeade visit for tomorrow. That would heighten everyone's spirits," said Harry, moaning as if his whole body ached.

"Speaking of heightening, here's something that will heighten your curiosity; Dad said that Joely's father is packing up his office. They're going back to America once term is over."

"What? You're joking?"

"Afraid not, Harry."

"Why?"

Ginny shrugged. "Don't know."

"Hermione, has she said anything to you about leaving?"

"I haven't seen her except for classes. Though, McGonagall did say something about her locking herself up in the Prefect's Common Room, but truthfully, I haven't checked."

"She was fine until - " inserted Ron.

" - until she told us about Cody and Damon," said Harry.

"Who're Cody and Damon?"

"Butt out, Gin!" snapped Ron.

Ginny straightened her back and stuck her nose up at her brother. "Yes, Ron, I'll tell Mum thank you for the scones for you. Why don't you eat a few more and then sink into that depression. I could do with a good laugh from seeing you wallow about." She whipped around and stormed out of the portrait.

"She did practically divulge her whole past to us, and that's not easy for anyone. After all, it is rather dark. But we also haven't spoken with her since that day, two weeks ago mind you."

"She's avoiding us too, Hermione!" hissed Ron.

"He's got a very valid point, love."

"So do I, Harry! Say it's first year again and you spill your life story all in one sitting about Voldemort killing your parents, then all the problems you had with the Dursleys. Would you fancy being around those you told still? And you, Ron - "

"Why are you bringing me into this?"

"Do you remember on the train when Malfoy insulted you about being a Weasley? Did you, or did you not, want to run out of that compartment until Harry picked a friendship with you over Malfoy?"

"What about you?"

"Yes, I've wanted to run away from many things that have happened here. You, Ronald Weasley, calling me a nightmare and reducing me to tears; Malfoy and his spell hitting my teeth. Both times I've wanted to avoid people. But you know what helped?"

"We did," interjected Harry.

"Exactly," Hermione simpered. "You befriended me and stood up to Malfoy for me."

"We've stood up for her plenty of times! Remember all those horrible rumors we set straight while she was in hospital? I dumped Lavender because I was defending Joely because she couldn't defend herself!" Then the realization hit Ron hard. "She's told us enough to where she can't stand up for herself anymore. She's avoiding us so we can't get into a situation where she's cornered and no one to help her."

"We're doing exactly what we said we wouldn't," said Harry, hanging his head. "She opened up to us with no one to defend her should we be angry, so she's forcing herself to stay alone."

"But what about all the lies she's told us?"

"Have you not lied to Hermione or myself, Ron?"

Ron's jaw dropped. "Not about some nutter, mad man wanting to kill me! Not about anything that would endanger either of you!"

"If we had just met you for the first time, would you even want us to know that information right from the start?" queried Hermione, chalking up one on Ron with that I - got - you look on her face.

"Harry told us about You - Know - Who and when he thought Sirius was after him."

"Because he knew he could turn to us for help. Joely's turned to us and we've all but directly refused it to her. We've done what she's been afraid we would do all along - abandon her."

"She nearly got us killed, Hermione!" screamed Ron, looking around oddly at the stares he was gathering. "Sod off!" he answered to them.

"You're starting to sound like you believe Lavender's lie that she was going to sacrifice us to save her own arse! She gave up her life to save us! But her putting our lives in jeopardy didn't make you any less then wanting to help save hers, did it?" yelled Harry.

"No," he answered earnestly. "I couldn't let one of my best friends die."

"Then why are we sitting here as though she's dead?" said Hermione.

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

"Watch where you're - " growled Draco, "going, Weasley," he said, lifting her chin up to look him in the eye.

"Why don't you watch how sharply you go around corners, Malfoy. Unless you peeked around the corner and intentionally crashed into me?" said Ginny.

"My secret mission in life has been revealed," he said in fake cry of defeat. "What ever will become of me?"

"Piss off!"

"Where're we off to in such a rush? Well, Weasley? Are we off for a secret snog with the Creevey poof to keep him in the closet?" he chided, his beady, interrogating eyes trying to reign in control.

"Get out of my face." She held his stare as though he was no match for her; her own eyes reigning supreme.

"Is that a yes, littlest Weasel?"

"No, not that it's any of your business, but I'm looking for Filch's office."

Draco smirked. "Filch's office is in the opposite direction and you can't get there from the north side of the castle. Tsk, tsk, you're a bad liar, Ginevra."

"Not everyone had a father that sits them down for hours at a time and teaches their children to lie, Draco Xavier."

"You wound me, Weasley. But what is this you have here?" He bent over double and scrapped up three pieces of parchment off the floor.

"A letter from home, you git. Now give it back so you can go back to your dormitory and sulk in self-pity because your parents ignore you while at school." But Draco did not respond to the banter; a name on the second page caught his full attention. "Give it back, Malfoy."

"How does your father know Sean McGill?" he said bitingly.

"What?"

"Answer me! How does your father know Sean McGill?"

"I heard the question, you daft bat! They work on the same level and often talk in spare time."

"Where's Joely? Go back to your common room and tell her that I want to speak with her," he commanded, throwing the crushed letter down.

"I don't take orders from you! And she's not in Gryffindor, no one knows where she is. Find her yourself."

Draco crushed Ginny up against the wall; she gasped as several spurts of air shot out of her mouth; wincing when her back made brutal contact with the stone. Holding her by her upper arms limited movement; he chewed the inside of his jaw to display his hostility.

"I could have your badge and chances of becoming Head Boy for this," she said hotly, her fieriness rearing its ugly head.

"Not if I were to crush you to pieces first. Where's Joely?" Ginny shrugged for her own personal amusement.

"Don't play games with me, Ginevra!"

"Who's playing games?"

Draco released his hold and stepped away. "Please, Ginny. Do you know where she is?" he asked, his voice having softened.

"I don't know for sure, but Hermione did say that McGonagall said something about her taking over the Prefect's Common Room. I was trying to find my way there when we collided."

Aiming for her revealed hiding spot, yet meandering, Draco pondered on what to say. Would his request be good enough to sustain the prospect of a change so great that it would surely damage him? Would she even hear him out? She has to give me a chance. She's going to hear what I have to say! But even Draco was not all that certain of himself.

Stopping outside the entrance, he paced and fidgeted with what approach to use. Should he appear apathetic, sincere, crushed? Would empathy change her mind? What about the infuriated act? Realistically it wouldn't be an act because he was infuriated at her potential abandonment. She was doing exactly what she had done before - she was running away again. He was strongly toying with storming in and forcing her stay, binding her to a chair if he had to. He was a Malfoy, he got his way no matter the costs. He had an odd ache though that an honest one-on-one talk would give the most advantage toward success.

Of all his choices, anger enthralled him. She may be strong, but he knew his anger intimidated her. Christmas had been testimony of this. She may not be out right in display her intimidation, but he knew her having told him so that his temper makes her want to curl up inside and shut up from ever talking again. He didn't want her to curl up inside and never talk again for all eternity, he wanted her to curl up with him and stay in England to shut up the rumors of her leaving.

Yes, anger will work, he told himself, secure in his assumption. "Mei animum crudum," he said to the portrait, mustering up fury and hoping to blaze into the room. The only hindrance was that the portrait was still closed.

"Sorry, Master Malfoy, wrong password."

"That is the right password!" he fought back, his internal, fiery heat searing up.

"The password has been reduced to one universal one for all prefects. On confirmation from the headmaster, individual passwords are no longer valid."

"What's the new password?"

"You'll have to receive it from Miss McGill for it is hers now in usage," said the portrait with a wink.

Draco knew he had heard her speak her password before, but he couldn't recall when and where. Prefects were only allowed one password for this common room, that was on Dumbledore's orders as many had forgotten theirs after having changed them with the times when a new rage was current. Slowly, he was detecting the smell of cleaning fluid and hearing rumbles of thunder. He scanned out the windows on either side of the castle and saw clear, sunset blazing skies for miles. But what was interesting itself was that the thunder sounded to be only in his head.

"I didn't feel like climbing all those stairs so I'm going to crash in the prefect's common room."

He remembered!

"Nuntius tactius!" he burst out, rushing into the common space. "Damn it, Joely, I want to talk to you!"

But he hadn't received the wide eyes of fright that he had expected and wanted. Ginny had been right when she had said that Joely was here, but he was disappointed that she hadn't jumped up and began to argue back with him. What he was presented with was a sleeping Joely curled up on the couch.

Feeling a draft bellow in from the opened windows, and an eerie chill ensnare him, he conjured a pillow and tucked it in around her; watching her body lengthen out as she warmed. Deciding to stay to be present when she woke up, he sat down upon the carpet and rested his back against the couch, being positioned so that he was the first thing she saw when she woke, and waited; every now and then stoking the fire to maintain the comforting warmth it emitted.

He didn't know exactly when he had fallen asleep, but when he pushed passed the groggy fatigue, her open eyes were the first things he saw. They held each other's glares while Joely ran her fingers through his hair, ruffling the gelled down locks to let them fall loosely to the sides. Him being there caressed her face with a smile.

"I hate when you gel your hair back, it makes you look arrogant."

"I hate when you avoid me, it makes you look weak."

"I hate how you think you can take on Damon and my curse."

"I hate how you think I can't."

"I hate that I can't make myself hate you."

"I'm glad.

"Are you now?" she smirked. "You're happy with my inability to hate you no matter how hard I try? You enjoy that even after everything that's happened; after Pansy, Amanda, Giselle, you hitting me, our fights and plots of revenge, and you nearly dying - I still can't get over you?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Why are you leaving?"

Her hand jettisoned from his head as though he had burned her, and assisted in her rising into a sitting position, bringing her legs in her chest for a comforting effect. Draco took the delay of her answer to his advantage. He sat up on the edge, placing his hand firmly against the back of the couch, keeping her cornered.

"How did you know?" she muddled into her knees, her pupils widening with his intense gaze.

"Molly Weasley informed Ginny that Arthur saw your father packing his office and had been told that you were leaving for America as soon as term was over. How soon?" he asked wearily, hanging his head, his right foot shuffling about the carpet.

"As soon as the train pulls into King's Cross, we leave for Heathrow, and we're gone."

"Why?"

"Why not? What's here for me to stay, Draco?"

"So you're going to up and leave?" he growled, his teeth bearing.

"Hey! I said my peace! I straightened everything out! I apologized! It's not worth me staying and having to do that all over again next time it happens!"

"You haven't straightened everything with me! I deserve an explanation! You owe me that much!"

"What kind of explanation do you want? The explanation that's nothing but my usual lies, or the truth? The truth that you know I can't tell you."

"I want the truth that would have to have you endure pain to tell me. I want the truth that you're afraid for me to know!" he demanded, smacking his hand against the leather back rest.

"Why can't you understand that I can't tell you that?" she screamed, pushing him away and jumping to her feet.

"You can tell the fucking Mudblood and her lapdogs, but you can't tell me? How straight is that bullshit?"

"I want to tell you, Draco! I want to scream it at you until I'm breathless, but I can't! I physically can't no matter what the strength of pain it was cause me! Every time I open my mouth to say it to you, my words are magically bound within my throat."

"Why just me? Why is it only me? What in the bloody hell have I done to you that gives you the right to be honest with everyone but me? Why?" He too jumped to his feet and backed her into the table.

"What do you think you did? It's what you've been doing since we met. Blaise has told you many times. If you haven't figured it out by now and caught on, I'm sorry."

He remembered something from the beginning of the year.

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"If she had told you how she feels, or what's happening to her, one or both of you would die! Is that what you want? Would you be happy with her being dead just so you can know how she feels about you, or why you cause her so much pain?"

"Why do you know and I don't?"

"Because I'm not in love with her!"

"Do you remember that night during Christmas break where we were in my room after dinner and we were talking about this same subject?" Draco shook his head. "You said that you accepted the fact that because of your feelings for me, there wasn't much I could tell you. What happened to that acceptance?"

"I don't remember ever saying that," he said pronouncedly.

Joely stood dumbstruck. "So those feelings are gone?"

"Yes."

"Then that makes my leaving all the easier on the both of us," she said solemnly, rushing out of the room.

"We're not done talking about this! I'm still talking to you, Joely!" he yelled, soaring down the corridor after her. "I'm not finished yet," he snarled, grabbing her forearm to halt her.

"Get your fucking hands off me! If those feelings are gone, then there really is nothing for me to stay for. I've written everyone that cares letters goodbye; they'll understand."

"And what do I get? Nothing, like always, right?"

"No, you get what I get: A little bit of what we've both wanted all along."

"And what's that?" he groaned with aggravation. He was really sick and tired of her beating around the bush with answering his questions. He wanted an answer now!

"To know that we're loved by someone other then family," she sighed.

He wasn't going to let it end that easily. "So you're going to run again? You're going to pack up your life and move? Do you know how pathetic that makes you? Whatever happened to the Joely McGill that bruised my mind with annoyingly repeating that you can't give up? That you have to fight for everything you want?"

"I don't believe in anymore. I've been fighting since I was twelve, Draco, twelve? Do you know what most twelve year old girls were doing at that age? Giggling on the phone about boys and having sleepover parties where you give your friends makeovers. I was fighting for my life when I was twelve! I'm ready to raise my white flag and surrender. I don't have neither the strength, nor the want and desire to fight anymore! I'm tired of fighting!"

"Am I alone not worth staying for? I said those feelings were gone, that doesn't mean the ones that have developed since then are!"

Joely stopped dead in her tracks with Draco stopped no more then three feet behind her. What had just flown out of his mouth? There was no logical explanation for emotionless Draco Malfoy to share such an emotion. Or was there?

"You said that you needed me alive for when this was over. It's over now, love. You need me, and I need you. If you leave, I will hate you for all eternity."

"Don't do this to me, Draco! Don't do this to me!" she cried, turning on her heel to face him. "It's not over! Damon is still out there! He will stop at nothing to destroy me! Whether it is my death, or my enslavement, he will succeed. It all depends on how long until I succumb and let him take over."

As he stared at her frail form, something about human nature was eluding him. Maybe it was because he wasn't raised to appreciate human frailty, but was strictly brought up to exploit it in all ways that existed. It made him curious to think about him ever having exploited someone. Had he ever taken advantage of someone, something, or some situation purely because he knew he could, and could well? Was he taking of her feelings for him and the tears she was shedding because he didn't want to lose and appear to be the frail one?

"I will do what I have to, to keep you here! I'm returning the favor! You showed me that I'm something worth fighting for, and worth something in general. Now it's my turn to show you that about you."

"Why?" she sobbed. "Why can't you just let well enough alone and let me go? Please, Draco, I'm begging you here, just let me go."

"You and Blaise were in the library one night and he asked you if you loved me. You said that you loved me but wasn't in love with me. You contradicted yourself when you that I was meant to find romance in the love you showed me."

"Blaise told you about that?" she gasped.

"No, I was there. I had been there long before you arrived. I had been searching for a book and saw you sitting at that table alone. You know those little mumbles of yours you never thing anyone hears? The ones where you constantly ask yourself why I make you feel the way you do, and why I of all people do you have to love? I was there watching you the whole time. I heard the conversation between you and Blaise. I heard it all."

"You're lying! I would've known you were there!"

"Am I lying? I was there, Jem. And I'm here now."

"What're you turning into a sap on me? Where's the hard-ass exterior?" she asked severely, drawing out her wand.

"What're you doing?" questioned Draco, his eyes glazed over with concern.

"I can't let you remember. Don't you get it, Draco? You will die with me! You will be killed just like Cody was!"

"Why will I be killed?" he said with a smirk.

"Don't pull that garbage on me again! You know why!" she cried, pointing her wand at Draco.

"I want to hear you say it."

"No!"

"Why?"

"Because when I do, it's complete, and I can't take it back. He'll know and he'll come after you worse then before. He can't have someone alive that causes me to fight against him to survive!"

"Say it," he said, practically tip-toeing toward her.

"Draco, please, don't."

"You said it yourself, sometimes all the answers are right in front of your face in the simplest ways, waiting patiently to be discovered. I'm the answer, I'm your solution. Let me be it!"

"No! I can't bear to see you die!" she wailed, her tears pouring down her face; the tiny pearls glistening in the light from the wall torches all around them. It appeared that Draco had finally succeeding in getting Joely into the spotlight where she couldn't hide anymore. "I lost Cody! I'm not losing you!"

"Joely Emmeline McGill, put your want down, immediately!"

She exploded inside. Why now did that voice have to be heard over her pounding heart? She knew it so well. It was the voice that could make her freeze in fear even when she dared to challenge it. The voice of finality in conversations where defense of one's self was no longer permitted. She gulped and grasped for air like the strangled, and her tears dried up post haste. She looked down; she was in her uniform!"

"You're not to fight with housemates, young lady."

"We had our rows, Sean."

Her eyes fluttered shut with an appearance of an onset of extreme nausea. Draco's emulated hers when the second man spoke. Lucius was there as well. If Joely ever believed in bad Karma, it was now for it had reared its damning head.

"We did indeed, Lucius, but we've raised our children to know better. Housemates are each other's lifelines. What is going on, Joely?"

"Draco and I are talking. Nothing to wonder or get involved in, Dad."

"Talking, eh?" said Sean with an air of disbelief. Joely knew she wasn't going to be able to lie out of this one - she was doomed. "Do tell me the as to why Lucius and I heard you and Draco shouting from down the corridor?"

"Heated talking," she said quickly, too quickly.

"Draco?" said Lucius, casting his steeled eyes on his offspring.

"Joely is right, Father. A simple heated discussion," said Draco watching Joely exhale a slow breath of gratitude and him returning with a wink.

"Well then," said Sean, clapping his hands together once with glee, "I have excellent news. We're not moving after term."

"No!" Joely mouthed.

"After much deliberation between your mother and I, as well as a warning from your beloved grandmother, we've decided it's for the best that we stay. Brilliant news I must say."

"Yeah, I'm blinded by its brilliance."

"As well as - young lady, I have taught you how to respect those addressing you. Turn around and look at me when I'm talking to you."

"My knees are locked, Dad, I can't move."

How pathetic on an excuse was that? What gear was loose in her brain that shot that from her mouth? This was not going to be pleasant. The battle of the century between father and daughter was about to be contended in the halls of Hogwarts. No tickets to the event were sold, though if Sean was victorious and she turned around, the profits from ticket sales would be her living money for her surname would surely be taken away. Oh yes, this was hell, and she was about to be stoned with Brimstone and thrown into a fiery pit.

"Did you do this, boy?" scolded Lucius, grasping the snake head of his cane firmly.

"No, sir."

"I miss-cast, Mr. Malfoy," said Joely. I was trying to lock my feet to the floor and I hit my knees by mistake. Draco and I had been arguing about the best way to remove the spell."

"Young lady, I did not teach you to lie!"

"Yes, you did. You taught me to lie to myself that things weren't nearly as bad as they seemed."

Sean refused the comment on that snipe. "Turn around and look at me, right now!" A small chuckle crawled up his throat when Joely turned around. "Why are you wearing a Gryffindor robe?"

"All students are supposed to wear the colors of their houses, are they not?"

"Don't get sassy with me. I'll ask again. Why are you wearing a Gryffindor robe?"

"Because she's a Gryffindor, Sean," said a woman advancing from behind the men.

"Mom?"

"Noelle?"

"Our daughter is a Gryffindor, Sean. She's not a Slytherin as we had played off; she's not a Slytherin as you believed."

Sean looked furiously between his wife and daughter; the acid green venom in his blood filling his eyes. This was impossible! How could his daughter, his own flesh and blood, the carrier of his bloodline, be anything but a Slytherin? This was unheard of!

"You're a bloody Gryffindor?" he yelled, his knuckles ghostly white. "How could you do this to me?"

"I didn't do anything to you! You think I asked to be a Gryffindor? Let alone just to spite you? I begged for twenty minutes with Dumbledore to put me in Slytherin after I was sorted! I knew you would react like this!"

"How else am I to react when I find out that my daughter has tainted my bloodline by becoming a Gryffindor?"

"Sean, that's it!" said Noelle.

"And you, you're my wife! How could you keep this from me?"

"And Joely is my daughter!"

"Why Joely? Why?"

"You really think I did this on purpose? It's not my fault!"

"It is your fault!"

Joely crashed to her knees. She honestly had never expected it to go so gruesomely wrong. This was deathly. Even with her mother's intervening, she didn't think he would be so adamant that it was her fault. How could he think she asked to go against her family in such a way? She knew the consequences of being so different in a situation such as this. Her father was nearly disowned for having married an American; she knew what she was up against. He knew better then to think that you could have control in where you're sorted. But then again, she remembered Harry telling her that he had pleaded not to be sorted into Slytherin, and though the hat said he would do well there, it went against its thoughts and placed him in Gryffindor. Does that mean that she could've asked to be placed in any house except the three she didn't want?

What's done is done and she couldn't go back in time and make that request. It was time that she live up her houses name. That's when Dumbledore's voice echoed in her head.

"Remember what makes a Gryffindor, my dear. You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart. They're courageous and willing to stand up for what is right and what they believe in. As Hagrid told you, 'You have the blood of a Slytherin, but the heart and soul of a Gryffindor.'"

The voice was gone.

"No!" she said roughly, standing up straight and firm. "This is your fault! You're the one that suggested to Damon's father that they buy the old Tratt estate. You're the one who told me and volunteered me - don't forget that part - to show him around town and befriend him. You told me to lie to myself that it wasn't as bad and painful as it felt and seemed, and stick out the beatings because he was scared! You told me to tell myself that the relationship was great even when Healer Richmeyer was making house calls to the house on a daily basis! Even after he cast the curse, you maintained that I support him." Then her tone of voice changed. "You know," she said in suspicious tone, "it wasn't until after his father died that you suggested that I back away quickly."

Sean began to fidget and Noelle stepped away with grin.

"You sick son - of - a - bitch. You used me. You used me to get to Jonathon. You killed his father! I was part of the job! You needed me to reel in Damon's father!"

"You disgust me," Sean hissed. "A disgrace to the McGill name. You're no daughter of mine. No flesh and blood of mine would be a Gryffindor."

That his Joely hard. "Good, I wouldn't want to be the daughter of a man who uses her to kill his enemy. You can kill the enemy, but you can't protect someone you're supposed to love unconditionally so you make her pack up her whole life and make her leave her life behind by 3,000 miles. No, you disgust me."

"Joely, wait," said Draco as she ran past him.

"Draco Xavier Malfoy, I will not have you consorting with a Gryffindor."

"Gryffindors not up to Malfoy standards, Lucius?" said Narcissa, standing beside her son and trying to protect her much taller then her son. "Were you and Sean not talking about the prospect of a long lasting relationship between our children? I do believe that the word marriage was brought up on the carpet. Now that Joely's house is public to the both of you, you no longer think her to be good enough for our son? She was ideal until she was known to be a Gryffindor."

"Be careful, Narcissa," he warned. "Our family has a reputation to uphold just as Sean's does. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor together will scar."

"You're as brutal and sickening as he is," said Draco.

"Be wise and hold your tongue, boy."

"Noelle," began Narcissa, a wonderful smirk twitching her mouth, "I do believe that that holiday we've been talking about is long overdue."

"You are absolutely right. I will see you there promptly as seven. Don't bother coming home, Sean Harrison, I won't be there."

"Promptly as seven it is," said Narcissa before turning to her son. "Draco, darling, you took on this task, now you must fulfill it. Help her find all that she's lost, and give her all that you have to give. Never let her fall; always be her brace. Never let her doubt; be her assurance. Never let her cry, and should she, be her comfort and love."

"I will, Mother."

"Go find her, she needs you." She pulled his face down to her and kissed his cheek, watching him jaunt down the corridor. She then approached the two fathers, her eyes dim with hate, before walking off herself, her turned back highly disrespectful in Lucius' book.

"Narcissa," warned Lucius.

"In the words of my son, piss off, Lucius."

Draco search of the castle and its expansive grounds ended abruptly when Blaise's words from dinner had sunk in. In his mind, he had sincerely expected to find her in the prefect's common room, but when he arrived, all he was welcomed to was strewn papers and shredded papers from books so it was crystal clear that she had been there before fleeing. His next thought was the Astronomy Tower where he had found her once before, sitting on the open window's ledge and staring blankly out into the night sky. It had been a cold day in November and an even bitter night when he had gone up there to think. He had blasted her with obscenities on why she was only dressed in her oxford and skirt and barefoot in the freezing room. But all she said was that she wanted to be numb. She wanted to be so cold that no warmth of any kind ever penetrated her skin again. Draco however was the one that become numb standing there, reminiscing that night.

He tried to ignore that moans and groans of his stomach demanding that he take advantage of the fast approaching dinner time. Draco's stomach won the battle in the end. He reasoned that nourishment would energize and ready him for more searching. Though the castle was vast, there was only so many places you could hide.

Cautiously and on extreme alert, he stepped into the Great Hall, his grey eyes scanning every table (though he was unsure why he choose to look upon the three table where she surely wouldn't be at was unclear) for even the tiniest glimpse of her; letting him breathe a sigh of relief in knowing that she was all right and safe. Staring with no specific thought of concentration, but extremely annoyed on the inside, he sat down in approximately his usual spot and served himself dinner. Random talking around the table no matter what the decibel was little whispers to his eardrums. Even through the stinging in his neck and his forehead as notification that he was having eyes concentrate on him did not falter him in his torrent of thoughts.

There in his seat he sat like a lost puppy that had been abandoned. He couldn't pinpoint a legitimate reason, but he did feel abandoned. He had stayed behind on order (his father ranting about his consorting with a Gryffindor) like a well trained dog by an owner (his father), and left behind to stray from the owner he wanted. He didn't want to be owned; he wanted to be loved like any other puppy.

Love.... Draco wondered about "love." From his perspective, love was the cruelest and most wonderful emotion in the world. Love was what kept people going when there was nothing left. Did he actually love her though, or was he just feeling something uncommon and assumed it was love? Be he feared love. His father's teachings on love was as such: Lust is always present for it is desire that you can't hide from. Sex is needed and should never be denied from you for it is your right as a man to be given all of your companion. Love does not exist and should not exist for it makes people weak, and weakness was not tolerated in the game of power. And living in a world and time where fear was a necessity for survival and undoubtedly overflows and makes the blood shiver, love disappears to accommodate the fear.

Pushing around his food and taking toddler sized bites here and there to take the edge off his hunger, he settled for watching the steam rise off his food. Draco lost all sense of the present. He became deaf and mute to all around him. He wanted time. Time to get a firm grip and to take control of what was going on with him. But time wasn't really on his side. Father time was pushing him to come to a realization that be honestly doubted her was ready to take on. He doubted, and just with all things in Draco Malfoy, the doubting consumed him. In consumption, he lost certainty, and this certainty was knowing if she would, or could, love him in return.

"Well hello to you too."

"What?" said Draco, hazily.

"Pansy and I have been trying to attract your attention for past twenty minutes. That's some interest you've taking in watching your food, Draco. I've often wondered exactly what's in it too."

"Cut the bullshit, Zabini and tell me what you want," Draco snapped.

Blaise sighed heavily. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" said Draco, shrugging with a snide shift of his shoulders.

"Does Sean really know that Joely's a Gryffindor?"

Draco nodded dispiritedly. "Yes, it's true."

"Is she all right?'

"I don't know, I can't find her. I thought that maybe eating something would give me some clues into places - "

"Well you can count that theory out seeing as you haven't eaten much, mate."

"If you were Joely, where would you go?"

Blaise cocked his head to the side and smirked. "I would run to me, but obviously she hasn't come to me. She has mentioned where she would go, but it's... it's fuzzy. Wait... Wait... No, that's where I hide my dirty magazines."

"You aren't worth two Sickles for advice," hissed Draco, getting up from the table and thundering out of the Great Hall.

From the Great Hall, Draco ventured toward Scott's classroom and office, the infirmary, the prefect's common room again and the wizened up and headed for Gryffindor Tower. He had the luck of having the door opened for him by Hermione, to which he was politely told that Joely hadn't been in the tower for two weeks. Hermione requested that should Draco see Joely first, to please tell her that they wanted her back in the common room. Draco however snidely replied that if they wanted Joely back, then they needed to tell her themselves. He wasn't her damn messenger boy! From there, Draco was at a complete loss of where to look. As a last resort before calling upon the aid of Scott, he tried the potions room. Again, there was no lady luck to strike him. There weren't many places you could find to hide in where you couldn't be seen or found right away, so where had she gone? That's when Blaise's words from dinner birthed a meaning.

******Flashback******

"I'm just waiting for the day he finds out."

"What would happen?"

"The day my father finds out about my being a Gryffindor, I'm running to you for help first."

"Well then let's hope he finds out soon."

******End Flashback******

He knew where she was! Well, he hoped that he knew. Though he wasn't far from the Slytherin common room entrance, he still took off at a run. He was so preoccupied, he turned down the wrong corridor twice and had to back track. Yes, Slytherin was cunning in his design for the twists and turns that led to the dungeons, hopefully causing rescuers to go mad with losing their way and retreat without having made their rescue. Draco was thankful for it for it kept out the unwanted, but it was a curse when in a rush. He stopped for a small pant and spat out the password to the wall in spurts of exhaling air, barely allowing it to open before squeezing in sideways.

He stopped at his dormitory door portrait and collected his thoughts. Where else was he to look if he did not open this door and see her? Shaking his head and dispelling the thought, he creaked open his portrait and breathed that much wanted sigh of relief to see her snuggled up against his pillows, asleep. She looked even tinier and much more frail and weak then before. He jumped when a sonic boom of thunder crashed and lightning brightened his room through the small window near the ceiling he had magicked himself. He felt a burst of heat rush through him and he grew hot under the collar, charming a cool breeze to whisk about the semi-damp room.

Gently, he sat down on the edge next to her and swept the tear cemented hair off her face. She stirred slightly, but it only appeared to be normal sleeping movements. He carefully removed her shoes and situated her in what seemed to be a comfortable position, leaving her to sleep peacefully while he unwound in a long, hot bath.

Exiting the bath an hour and a half later in a pair of pajama bottoms and a fitted t-shirt, he sat down at his desk to address a letter to his mother. He hadn't a clue where she was, but he knew his owl, Triton, would find her. He briefly mentioned having found Joely in his dormitory and how he wanted her to stay with him so he could keep an eye on her. He had read her diary entry about how she didn't know what she would do given the chance, and he couldn't risk her committing suicide. If she killed herself, that meant that he had failed and Draco never failed. In closing of his letter, he requested the books that Dumbledore recommended; sealed up the parchment with a quick Sticky Charm and sighed at the finality of him being lost. He knew what he wanted, he knew he was going to be in the know whether she liked it or not.

With it being only two minutes until midnight and exams week finally over, Draco knew it was time to start his weekend of sleeping whenever and however long he desired. But he was concerned about Joely. Should he partially undress her enough so that she would sleep more comfortably, or leave her uncomfortable in the confining uniform? Or perhaps he should wake her and let her undress herself? The last thing she needs is to woken up. It's not like I haven't seen a woman naked, or Joely naked for that matter. He pulled her up and rested her head against his shoulder, unclasping her robe and discarding in onto his trunk along with her undone tie that she obviously had removed upon arrival. Removing her jumper what was really boggled his mind. He knew she would surely sweat in it even in the dampness of his room, so instead of risking it, he magicked it off. He finally eased all the buttons open on her oxford leaving her tee underneath on; transfigured her skirt into a simple pair of cotton jersey shorts and removed her socks. (He knew she hated socks in general, let alone would loathe sleeping in them.)

He eased himself under the covers, relishing in the cool breeze soothing his heated skin like aloe on a burn as her covered their bodies. Thinking about what tomorrow would bring, he closed his eyes and felt her body snuggled up against him; a smile playing on his face. He opened his eyes and turned on his opposite side and just as earlier that night, her open eyes was the first thing he saw; the lavender color pierced him when they sparked with lightning.

"You okay?"

She nodded gently then shook her head jaggedly.

"I'm scared," she said, her eyes reflecting her pain; her eyes were where all her emotions shined.

"Scared of what? He's not coming after you, Joely. Everything's going to be all right."

"I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you."

"You won't," he said lovingly, cuddling her securely. "I'm not going anywhere."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I finally know the meaning of 'heed your elders' warnings.' I promise you, I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Are you under the impression that I can't keep this promise?" he sneered, leaning his face downward until their foreheads touched.

"No," she said, a twinge of fear in her tone, "I'm just asking that you not."

"We're both exhausted. Let's get some sleep and we can talk about this later. I don't think either of us is up for an all night discussion."

"Draco? Thank you."

"Goodnight," he smirked.