The Legend of Chime

Chapter nine The invitation

For the second time since she had started at Hogwarts, Elizabeth found herself in front of the gargoyle that guarded Professor Dumbledore's office. She searched her mind for the password. It was a kind of sweets . . .

"Pepper Imps!"

Elizabeth smiled as the gargoyle jumped aside and revealed the spiral staircase. She stepped onto stairs. What could he possibly want to me tell now? She climbed the staircase slowly feeling like her feet had suddenly turned to lead. She stared at the large door for a moment without knocking. Why do I have a bad feeling about this? Nothing could shock me now. She lifted her hand to knock but the door opened silently of its own accord. She took a deep breath and entered Dumbledore's office.

As she stepped through, her eyes fell upon a tall, elegant witch dressed in very expensive robes, holding an exquisite silver walking cane in one hand and a letter in the other. A large wolfhound lay at her feet. She seemed to be quite old but the evidence of a once breathtaking beauty still lingered on her wrinkled face. Her hair was silver with strands of darkness woven through. She stood perfectly erect, adding a sense of nobility and stature to her presence. She was looking at Elizabeth with a slight curve to her lips but no warmth radiated from her icy blue gaze.

The tension in the room immediately put Elizabeth's senses on alert. She glanced at Dumbledore who did not look happy to have the witch in his office. He turned to her and smiled genuinely. "Ms. Fairchild, I hope we have not disturbed your class work too much. Please come in."

Elizabeth made her way forward, very aware of the older witch's scrutiny and stood in front of the desk, watching Dumbledore closely, sensing trouble. He was leaning over his desk, smiling at her but she saw a dangerous glint in his eye.

Ms. Fairchild not Elizabeth.

He glanced at the elderly witch and said pleasantly, "It seems I have neglected to inform your relations that you have been found alive. You must forgive an old man his lapses in memory."

Relations? Lapse in memory? Elizabeth didn't believe that for a moment and a quick look at the elegant witch revealed a slightly narrowed gaze as she observed Dumbledore. She obviously was no fool. Neither of them voiced their scepticism but the wolfhound had no such qualms. He lifted his head slightly and gave a low, menacing growl.

Dumbledore ignored the animal. "Allow me to introduce your grandmother on your mother's side, Lady Isabella Montague-Fairchild," he said with a gracious smile.

Elizabeth indeed found herself shocked again and fought to keep her expression neutral. She would have normally been thrilled, but normal was far from what she had been feeling since stepping into Dumbledore's office. Her grandmother was alive and standing in front of her, but something Dumbledore said froze in her mind. Montague, as in the Slytherin Montague.

She slowly turned to Lady Fairchild, who then offered her hand, palm down. Elizabeth got the distinct impression that she was testing her response. She took her offered hand and briefly curtsied, her face void of emotion. She glanced up and said, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Fairchild. I had thought my relatives were no longer of this world and it delights me to realize I was wrong."

Lady Fairchild seemed pleased with this response. She offered Elizabeth a cold smile and said, "You may call me, grandmother. Had I known of your existence, my child, I would have come much sooner. I have been out of the country for several years and was quite astonished to receive an owl from an old acquaintance of your mother's relaying the happy news of your discovery." She indicated the letter in her hand with a subtle flourish. Elizabeth caught a glimpse of her own smiling face from Colin's newspaper before her grandmother refolded the letter and tucked it inside her robes. "I am delighted to see you have grown in both beauty and grace befitting a Fairchild, even without my influence in your life. Your pure blood, most assuredly, conquered any filthy muggle attributes you had acquired by living amongst them for so long. You are obviously aware of your own superiority and carry yourself as such. This pleases me greatly. I'll not have to train you nearly as much as I had originally feared, it seems."

Elizabeth didn't know what to say to this. She inclined her head and murmured a thank you to what sounded like a compliment though it made her stomach churn. She had seen previous glimpses of this type of bigotry in the wizarding world: pure-blood vs. half-blood and muggle-born. It seemed her grandmother was a stanch supporter of pure-blood and wasn't at all shy about voicing her opinion. It reminded her of a certain Slytherin.

Dumbledore eyed her over his half-moon glasses with a subtle look of satisfaction on his face. "It seems your grandmother has requested permission for you to be allowed to leave school prematurely for your Christmas Holiday in few weeks so that you can become better acquainted with her and your new home. I have decided to allow this to help waylay any misguided negative feelings toward my obvious blunder, in hopes that her trust will be somewhat restored. What say you to this, Ms. Fairchild?"

Elizabeth had a sudden urge to bolt from the room but swallowed it instantly. She lifted her chin a bit higher and said, "I would be honored to accept her invitation, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle brightly and he calmly responded, "Very well then, Ms. Fairchild. Since your last class of the day was dismissed a few minutes ago, you may return to your house common room."

Elizabeth inclined her head to Dumbledore then turned to her grandmother, muttering a polite, "I'll be looking forward to our next meeting," then strode out the door without a second glance.

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"She's coming for you then?" asked Harry bitterly during the Halloween feast that night.

Elizabeth nodded and said, "I got the distinct impression that she had threatened Dumbledore with something right before I arrived. I haven't had a chance to speak with him since."

"Dumbledore would never allow you to go if he didn't have a plan. But for the life of me, I can't see what that could be," said Hermione thoughtfully, a frown creasing her brow. "How did he act while you were in his office?"

"Not like I've ever seen him behave before. I kept thinking he was trying to tell me how I should respond and I think I must have guessed correctly because he seemed satisfied when I left. But I still have no clue what really went on," she said still sounding quite confused.

Harry understood what Elizabeth was talking about. He had similar conversations with Dumbledore in the past. "He definitely has a plan of some sort."

Elizabeth absently fingered her potato chips and said, "I'll just have to trust Dumbledore knows what he is doing, I suppose. But I don't think he could have stopped her legally if she had insisted and he had refused."

Ron snorted. "Dumbledore might play nice, but he doesn't hesitant to do what needs to be done when it comes down to it," he said encouragingly. "If he didn't think you would be safe, you wouldn't be going."

Elizabeth thought out loud, staring into space, "She was so cold. My mother's diary had mentioned that her relationship with my grandmother was somewhat strained. She never mentioned how unfeeling she was."

Harry didn't know what was worse, not having a grandmother or having one that showed very little emotion. He gave Elizabeth a weak smile. "Well, at least, you have family now. Maybe she was just nervous about meeting you for the first time."

"Maybe," Elizabeth said softly, staring down at her barely touched plate.

"I could send Mum an owl and ask about your grandmother if you'd like. She might know something," Ron volunteered.

Elizabeth brightened a bit. "You'd do that. Oh, that would be great, Ron. Thank you! I'd love to hear anything she could tell me."

Ron blushed slightly and smiled. "No problem! I'll send Pig tonight."

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Elizabeth sat under a beech tree by the edge of the lake with Hermione, finishing her Charms homework on the proper way to enchant household items. She normally would have been fascinated at the prospect of never having to scrub dishes again but today she found her thoughts drifting elsewhere.

Ron had received a letter from his Mum in response to his query regarding her grandmother five days ago:

                                Ron,

                                      Tell the poor dear that the Fairchilds are an old

                                pure-blood family that is known to keep to themselves,

                                more often than not. Lady Isabella does have a few

                                few questionable associates but that's neither here nor

                                 there. Dumbledore is watching out for her so tell her

                                 not to worry.

                                      Give my love to Ginny, Harry, and Hermione.

                                   Give Elizabeth a good squeeze for me too.

                                  I can't wait to see you all during Christmas Holiday.

                                                                                          Mum

      

This did very little to comfort her fears but at least Mrs. Weasley hadn't said her grandmother was a Death Eater.

The Daily Prophet had released the news of Elizabeth's discovery in an article the day after her grandmother had made her appearance at Hogwarts. She had the suspicion that her grandmother had something to do with it. It was too much of a coincidence. The article had called her the "lost heir of the prestigious Fairchild family," but this still told her very little except that her mother had no siblings.

Some of the students had started treating her with a little more respect and were going out of their way to say hello to her since the articles release. This infuriated her to no end and she mostly ignored them.

She leaned her head back against the rough bark of the old tree, feeling the kiss of winter on her cheeks and watching the procession of a group of ducks flying in V-formation over the glistening lake, their image reflected in its mirrored surface. The lawn was peaceful and quiet except for the occasional scratching of a quill on parchment elicited by Hermione's fervent writing. Most of the students, Third Year and older, had walked into Hogsmeade for the afternoon causing the grounds to be much less populated than it normally would be on a Saturday.

Elizabeth hadn't needed to be asked to stay behind. She had known it would be foolish to venture that far from Hogwarts with Death Eaters running around. But still Professor McGonagall had searched her out the night before and made her instructions clear. She wasn't to leave the school grounds under any circumstances. She really wished she hadn't. Now all Elizabeth could think about was doing just that.

"Talk to me, Hermione," she said gazing up into the overcast sky following the flight of the ducks until they were but tiny specks in the sky.

Hermione looked up at her with a knowing glance and a neutral smile. "What would you like to talk about?" she asked casually, finishing the sentence she was writing and then shutting her book, giving Elizabeth her full attention.

"Anything . . . I don't care. I just need something else in my head besides what's there now,"

she said calmly, closing her eyes.

Hermione had learned over the past three months that when Elizabeth sounded the most calm that was when she was the most stressed. It was the way she handled things. She searched her brain for something to distract her. "I never thanked you for pushing me to talk to Ron. We wouldn't be together now if you hadn't."

Elizabeth opened her eyes and turned her head toward Hermione. She had never had a friend like her before. She never pretended to be anything but herself and usually said what was on her mind. "You don't have to thank me, you know," she smiled and lifted her head from the rough bark of the tree, "You two bickered so much, I had to do something to keep myself headache-free."

Hermione laughed at this. "Well, my theory is that you figured if Ron and I were together, we wouldn't notice you and Harry running off to the Room of Requirement so often," she said in a mock casual voice, but the twinkle in her eye giving her away.

Elizabeth didn't even flinch at this comment. She had known Hermione had probably figured out what they had been doing long ago. She had actually been surprised that she hadn't mentioned it sooner and lectured her on the risk her and Harry were taking. But then again, she and Harry weren't the typical, hormone-crazed teenagers either. "Yes, you're probably right about that. At least subconsciously anyway," a wicked grin spread across her face, "You and Ron should stop in there sometime. I'm sure you would enjoy it immensely."

Hermione threw her quill at her and said smiling, "You are so bad. My god, who would have thought that you are the same sweet, gentle, young lady who only arrived here three months ago."

"For the hundredth time, I never said I was a lady," she said with a hint of exasperation.

"Yes, I know. But you can play the part quite convincingly when you want to," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

Elizabeth allowed a slight chuckle then her smile faded and she stared out over the lake once more. "Years of practice, I guess," she said quietly. "People want to see what they expect to see and nothing more. Only your true friends take the time to see the person behind the mask." She turned back to Hermione with a serious expression. "You're a true friend, Hermione. You're my best friend. And if ever you need me for anything, all you have to do is let me know. No questions asked," she vowed solemnly.

Hermione just stared at her for a moment. She knew in her heart Elizabeth meant every word and would remember her vow for the rest of her life. "Me too, Elizabeth. Always." She looked away, quickly blinking her eyes.

When she had first met Elizabeth, she had only wanted to prove to Ron and Harry that she was the better person. That looks weren't everything. But it hadn't taken Elizabeth long to prove her wrong even though she was unaware she was actually doing so. Elizabeth truly listened to her. She even heard what she left unsaid. She never had a friend like her before and probably never would again. Harry had been the closest thing to it and even he could be quite dense about certain things.

Hermione turned her head back toward Elizabeth and watched as she gazed longingly out over the lake. Silently, she worried about her. There had been several nights that she had awoke to find Elizabeth's bed empty. She obviously hadn't been sleeping well but when she asked her about it, Elizabeth never remembered leaving her bed. It was if she had been sleep walking. She had also been losing weight at a fast rate which was a sure sign that something was wrong.

"How are you feeling? Because honestly, Elizabeth, you look dreadful," said Hermione bluntly, noticing the circles under her eyes for the first time.

Elizabeth gave her a funny sort of grimace and replied, "Such flattery is so unlike you, Hermione. If you're not careful, I'll think you're coming on to me or something."

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Seriously, Elizabeth. You don't look well and you haven't been eating enough," her eyes widened slightly, "You' re not pregnant, are you?" her voice slightly rising at the question.

"No, I'm not pregnant, for god's sake. But to tell you the truth, I'm not sure what is going on," she said then noticed Hermione's unconvinced expression and added, "But I do know I'm not pregnant! That is definitely something I don't need right now."

For a few weeks now, Elizabeth couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled around her. She felt as if a part of her was yearning for something that was constantly being denied. She would awake in the morning sometimes feeling just as exhausted as she had when she had crawled into bed and with a throbbing headache as if she had drunk too much wine. She went through her lessons on autopilot and her homework much the same way. She'd never admit it to Hermione, but she also had panicked for a few days until mother nature had made it obvious she wasn't in the family way. She hadn't mention any of it to Harry. She didn't want him to worry.

"Well, what is it then? You were out of your bed again two nights ago and didn't return until almost dawn," Hermione said anxiously. "Were you with Harry?"

Elizabeth remained silent then noticed Harry and Ron coming down the slope behind Hermione, carrying their brooms over their shoulders. She was glad for the distraction. Hermione's question had thrown her. She again had no memory of leaving her bed and she didn't want to think about what was happening to her. Maybe it was just a Chime thing and would eventually run its course like the dreams had done.

She watched Harry make his way toward her and a smile appeared on her face. Harry's hair had the usual wind-tossed look from his Quidditch practice. She would have loved to have met him a few years earlier. Hermione had said his hair had gotten much tamer the older he became. Evidently, it use to stick out from every angle on his head, not just in the back. Still, his hair was one of the things that she loved about him.

She stood up as they neared and wrapped her arms around him, feeling his cold nose nuzzle her neck and sending a shiver down her spine. She put her hands over his ears and found them just as icy. "Good lord, Harry. You're freezing."

He kissed her mouth and whispered sarcastically, "I am. I couldn't tell."

Elizabeth snorted and rolled her eyes. "Boys and their brooms," she said.

"Why do you both insist on practicing Quidditch on cold days? Don't you torture yourself enough during the actual games?" Hermione said, wrapping her scarf around Ron's neck while he kissed her on the nose.

Ron let out a frustrated growl that didn't quite match his smile and said, "Only you would ask that, Hermione. Everyone knows you practice when you can no matter how ugly the weather if you want the Quidditch Cup. Today is actually a good day. It's not raining, for once."

Hermione ignored his comment and said instead, "Well, we should probably go inside to eat. They'll be serving dinner soon and Elizabeth has eaten much all day." She glanced over at Elizabeth with a pointed look.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll eat something . . . Mum!"

Harry looked down at Elizabeth as they walked up the slope and studied her appearance. He had noticed she hadn't been eating very well lately too. The Elizabeth he knew loved food. He had wondered once how she could stay so small and still eat like she did. But now that Hermione had mentioned it, her face had become more angular and he felt he could probably break her if he squeezed hard enough.

"You're not getting sick, are you?" Harry asked apprehensively. "You haven't eaten the same since you left the hospital wing." Then a sudden thought struck him like a blow to the gut. He stopped, turned her toward him, pulled open her cloak and glanced down at her flat abdomen, not really knowing what he expected to see.

Elizabeth chuckled and shook her head. "No, Harry. You're not going to be a father anytime soon. You can calm down now and take a deep breath. I just haven't been that hungry lately. Blimey, you and Hermione must read from the same book," she whispered, watching to make sure Hermione and Ron hadn't noticed his reaction.

Harry wasn't aware he had been holding his breath. "Well . . . you need to eat to keep up your strength. We don't need you back in the hospital wing again anytime soon," he said gruffly, pulling her cloak back together and holding her close to his side like he thought she might float away if he didn't.

"I don't get sick. Remember," she said gently as they continued up the slope.

"No, that's right, you only get mortally wounded and scare everyone to death."

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Draco watched her walk up the slope with Potter. He knew he shouldn't care that she was with him, part of him loathed the ground she walked upon. Most of the time she was everything he detested in a woman. Elizabeth was weak. She cared too deeply about what others thought and felt. She laughed too much and smiled too often.

 But then there was the other side of her. The part that intrigued him from the moment he first witnessed it. The cold, calculated woman who challenged and taunted Pansy without remorse. The side of her that thought before she acted, her piercing gaze observing the smallest of weakness and preying upon it. The woman that instinctively knew how to manipulate a man to get what she desired. This was his Danae. This was the side that he could respect.

He had called her to him several times since that first night. He had been surprised to find she wasn't a virgin. He hadn't thought Potter had it in him to seduce her. Then he decided it was probably she who seduced Potter, after being with her himself. She had been just a plaything at first, something to appease his sexual desire. His reward for his faithfulness. She had given him everything that Pansy in her eagerness couldn't. Unknowingly, she satisfied him then slipped back into the darkness, becoming once again the woman he detested. Until two nights ago . . .

He had finished with her and had started to pull away then . . . she had softly run her fingers through his hair, pushing away a lock of silver-blonde hair from his face. It had shocked him. He wasn't use to tender gestures from her. He had looked into her eyes and she had smiled, almost as if she was truly seeing him. It had been the first time her eyes were on him and not the ring on his finger. Then he had foolishly kissed her. Not the rough demanding kiss he usually delivered, but the soft gentle kiss that she had required. It had been his undoing. She had again walked away into the darkness but instead of leaving him feeling deliciously satisfied, he had felt dirty. The feeling was completely foreign to him.

Malfoys never felt remorse. Malfoys were brutal and cunning. They took what they wanted from people and left them begging to take the rest. They never felt dirty. Ever.

He found himself thinking about her often since then, to his disgust. His eyes subtly followed her every movement in class.

Absently, his hand found the necklace under his shirt that held the ring around his neck. She had silently requested it every time she came to him. He had been surprised at himself when he had actually entertained the idea of giving it to her two nights ago. She definitely knew how to get what she wanted whether she was aware of it or not. He wondered what would happen if he put it on while she was awake. Would she become Danae or stay sweet, detestable Elizabeth? Would she remember his kiss? The temptation was almost too much but he resisted. To reveal himself, would be foolish. The Dark Lord had plans for her. He knew he had to wait until her usefulness was over. Draco abruptly turned away from Crabbe and Goyle then strode back toward the castle without a word.

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Harry couldn't find her. He had looked everywhere. The library. The common room. The grounds. The Great Hall. Everywhere. But still no Elizabeth. He didn't think she would be in her room this early, but that was the only place he hadn't looked so he ran up the staircase to the girls' dormitory two steps at a time. He was on the tenth step when a loud wailing sound resounded and the steps melted together causing him to fall on his knees and slip back down to the floor.

Damn! I forgot!

A Third year girl squealed as she slid to the bottom with a gleeful expression and leapt to her feet. "You're not allowed up there, you know."

Harry gave her a withering look then grabbed her arm as she tried to scurry away. "Is Elizabeth Fairchild up there?"

The girl just stared at him at first with a stunned look on her face then she blushed profusely. "I think so. I thought I heard someone say a house-elf had arrived to take her measurements for a new wardrobe or something like that," she said as she inched away toward the door.

"Watch out!" came an unexpected squeal accompanied by a high-pitched squeak then Harry was hit in the side by an unidentified body. He fell to the floor catching himself before he hit his head.

"Oof!"

Elizabeth stared at him with a brilliant smile, laughter dancing in her eyes. It took only a second for him to realize she was actually straddling him.

"Was there something you needed?" she said wickedly, not bothering to move from her position.

"Well, now that you mention it . . . " Harry said seductively, pushing himself up to a sitting position.

Someone cleared their throat directly behind him and he turned. Professor McGonagall was staring down at them with an extremely disapproving look that bordered on disgust. Elizabeth pushed herself up using his shoulders then helped him to his feet.

"Mister Potter, I believe you were trying to enter the girls' dormitory. Is that correct?" said Professor McGonagall stiffly.

"Professor, It's not how it looks . . . I wasn't trying to do anything inappropriate. I just wanted to talk with Elizabeth. I forgot about the stairs until just now. And she just fell into me, honest. I promise you, it won't happen again," Harry said quickly, trying to stifle a grin.

Professor McGonagall gave him an unconvinced expression then rolled her eyes and said, "Make sure it doesn't. You must set a good example for the students under you, Mister Potter. Miss Fairchild, it would have looked more innocent had you removed yourself from Potter's person as soon as you had come into contact with him. Such behavior is frowned upon here at Hogwarts and inappropriate to say the least."

"I do apologize, Professor. It won't happen again," Elizabeth said, impressing Harry by actually sounding contrite.

McGonagall gave them both a severe look then walked away.

Harry couldn't keep the grin from his face any longer as he glanced over at Elizabeth, but her attention was on the creature lying at her feet.

"Are you all right, Baxter?" asked Elizabeth as she turned to help a house-elf to his feet.

Harry watched as Elizabeth helped him pick up his measuring tape and patterns. He was an ancient looking house-elf with tufts of silver hair between his bat-like ears and a long cucumber nose. He was dressed in the usual house-elf attire, but his pillowcase was blue in color and cliched at the waist with a golden tassel and noticeably clean except for the skid mark that now ran down the back of it.

"Baxter is fine. Mistress Fairchild must not be getting her hands dirty. Baxter can take care of his mess," he said as he scurried to take the tapes and patterns from her, looking extremely nervous. "Baxter is a good house-elf." He started brushing off her robes and magically cleansed her hands.

Elizabeth looked bewildered by his antics, clearly this was the first time she had come in contact with a house-elf. Harry suppressed a chuckle. They did take some getting use to. Baxter magically conjured a bag, stuffed his tape and patterns inside then vanished it in two quick movements.

"Baxter must return to Lady Fairchild. Lady Fairchild will be wanting to order Mistress Fairchild's robes right away to be ready by Friday. Baxter will be looking forward to serving Mistress Fairchild again," he said then streaked off toward the portrait hole.

"That is the most bizarre creature I've ever met. He kept trying to serve me tea while he measured me," Elizabeth said incredulously as she watched Baxter disappear out the portrait hole.

"Get use to it. House-elves live to please their masters whether you want them to or not." Harry smirked and remembered Hermione's habit of trying to free them. "Your grandmother probably wouldn't like you trying to help them so don't try when you're there." His face fell as he realized what Baxter had said. "He said this Friday, but the term doesn't end until next week. Surely, your grandmother doesn't intend for you to miss a whole week of school?"

Elizabeth shrugged, walked into the common room and sat down in an empty armchair. "It seems she does. Evidently, she has planned a few dinner parties to introduce me to the 'Wizarding Elite' whomever they are. She wants to make sure my manners are up to snuff before then. Thursday will be my last night here until next term."

"Thursday," Harry repeated as he sat down in a vacant chair across from Elizabeth. "Three days from now."

She gave him a sad smile. She hated the idea of being away from him for so long. She knew she would probably be miserable if she let herself think about it. She just hoped her grandmother kept her very busy until it was time to come back to Hogwarts.

Elizabeth studied him for a moment. "Your hair is damp. What have you been doing?"

Harry gave a half-hearted smile. "It's snowing outside. You told me how much you love the first snowfall. I thought we could take a walk. That's what I was coming to ask you."

"Oh, I'd love to. I'll go grab my cloak," she said smiling as she stood and walked back toward the girls' dormitory.

Harry watched her disappear through the doorway. Three weeks. I won't see her for three weeks. The thought literally depressed him. He almost wished she didn't have a grandmother so that she could spend Christmas with him and the Weasley's. But he knew he was being selfish. She needed to get to know her family without him distracting her every five seconds. He leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh. God, he hated love sometimes.

"Ready?" she said smiling as she strode back through the doorway wearing her cloak and sporting Hermione's homemade muff.

Harry stood and reached for her hand. They walked together down through the school and out to the courtyard.

The snow had already completely covered the grounds in a blanket of white. They walked down the slope toward the lake then Elizabeth pulled her hand away from his and tilted her head up toward the sky allowing the snowflakes to gently caress her cheeks before they disappeared. Her face lit up as she continued to walk ahead of him. She stretched her out her arms and twirled around until she got dizzy and then fell to the ground, laughing. She picked up some snow in her hands allowing her muff to fall and looked at Harry, her eyes full of mischief.

"And what do you plan on doing with that?" he asked, watching her casually toss the snowball back and forth. "I wouldn't if I were you. You won't win, Eliz. . . ." Harry said as he was rudely hit in the face with the snowball.

Elizabeth laughed and scrambled to her feet. She squealed as she was hit in the back with a rather large ball of snow. She took cover behind a nearby tree and scooped up more snow then looked around. He was running straight for her with one arm up to defend his head. She stood and pelted him in the head as he tackled her to the ground, eliciting a shriek of laughter as they tumbled a few feet before they came to rest. Harry grabbed a handful of snow and stuck it down the front of her robes. Elizabeth squealed again, but grabbed another handful and tried to stick it down his trousers. Both were laughing like little children as they struggled to out do one another. Soon the snowballs turned into tickles and Elizabeth squealed even harder as Harry found a particularly susceptible area on her abdomen.

"St . . . Stop . . . Harrrry! Ookay . . . EEE . . . I give up. Uncle!" She struggled to speak between fits of laughter as Harry continued his assault. "I . . . promise . . no more! . . No more . . . okay!"

Harry looked down at her through his frozen glasses and smiled as she tried to regain control of herself. She was having some difficulty with it even though Harry had actually stopped tickling her some time ago. He laughed watching her struggle with herself. He had no idea she was so ticklish.

"I'm going to miss you, Elizabeth" Harry said suddenly, surprising himself.

 

Elizabeth immediately sobered and peered up into his face. "I'm going to miss you too."

"Oy!" came Ron's faint greeting from the courtyard.

Harry looked up and saw Ron walking toward them. He groaned silently. He had forgotten he had told Ron he wanted to meet with him and the rest of the Quidditch team to go over their mistakes from their last game. He pushed himself up from the ground and helped Elizabeth to her feet as Ron made his way over to them.

"Sorry to ruin the fun," Ron said grinning. "But the team is waiting for you in the locker room, Harry. You still want to have the meeting, right? We could blow it off until another time if you want."

"Yeah, I guess . . . I should go," Harry agreed reluctantly, brushing the snow out of his hair.

"I need to go finish my Potions essay anyway. Snape wants me to turn in all of next week's work before I leave on Friday," Elizabeth said, shaking the snow from her hair and cloak. She took off Harry's glasses and touched her wand to them, getting rid of the ice then kissed him quickly before returning them to their proper place. She smiled then turned on her heel. "I'll see you later. Bye Ron." She stopped to retrieve her muff as she continued up the slope.

"See ya," Ron responded leisurely. He watched Harry follow Elizabeth with his eyes as she disappeared into the castle. "Blimey, Harry. Fred and George would never let you live it down if you looked at Elizabeth like that in front of them. Do me a favor and hit me if I start acting like that toward Hermione. Shagging has clearly addled your brain."

Harry rolled his eyes as he started toward the Quidditch locker rooms. "This from a bloke who isn't getting any."

Ron snorted. "If it makes me act like you, I don't want any part of it."

Harry stopped suddenly and turned around with an incredulous expression aimed at Ron.

Ron didn't meet his eye but bumped Harry's shoulder as he passed. "I know. That's a lie," he mumbled as a blush crept up his neck.

Harry chuckled as he turned to follow Ron. "Don't worry. It'll happen. Eventually. But think about it. I took you two years to work up the nerve to kiss Hermione. It'll probably be another five before you shag her. Ouch! Sorry but it's the truth." Harry rubbed his arm as it started to throb from Ron's frustrated punch, but continued to smile as he entered the locker room.

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Draco watched her make her way to her usual table. For once, she was alone. She pulled out her notes and went to retrieve a book from one of the nearby bookshelves. She stood on her tiptoes for a moment, trying to reach the book she desired then she gave up and subtly looked around. Deciding no one was paying any attention, she held out her hand and the book flew into it. She flipped through it as she returned to her table and sat down to read.

He pulled his attention back to the unfinished essay before him and reread the required text. He ignored her presence for an hour or so but then a wicked thought drifted through his mind and his curiosity got the better of him. He stood and slowly made his way over to Elizabeth, making sure she was unaware of his presence until the last moment. He didn't want her to run from him like she usually did.

She was bent over a piece of parchment and writing intensely with a slight frown on her face. Her hair seemed damp as if she had recently been outside.

Probably out snogging Potter in the snow.

He felt slightly betrayed and immediately squelched the feeling. Draco reminded himself she knew nothing of their nightly trysts. She wouldn't possibly choose Potter over him if she did remember. He allowed the thought to comfort him somewhat.

He casually leaned against the bookshelf directly behind her. "I heard you liked the flowers," he said not quite able to keep the sneer from his face.

Elizabeth stiffened slightly at his words and sat up straight. She slowly turned in her seat to face him, her expression unreadable. "You have a fondness for lurking in the library, it seems, Malfoy."

Draco couldn't quite decide whether she was afraid of him or not. He pushed himself off the bookshelf and pulled out the chair next to her and sat down.

"I don't believe I asked you to join me," she said coolly, giving him a look of disdain.

"You're under the assumption that I care," he drawled, casually throwing his arm over the back of his chair and eyeing her curiously. She was challenging him. He was pleased to see she wasn't frightened of him. "I forgive your lapse in judgement and accept your gratitude."

She gave an unladylike snort. "My gratitude for what? Your unwanted attention? Has Pansy not been servicing your needs as often as you like? Do you feel it necessary to attempt to molest every female that enters the library?"

Draco arched one eyebrow as his lips slightly curved and he leaned his elbow on the table and said, "Oh, my needs are definitely being met. And," he brazenly licked his lips as he eyed her breasts, "I don't bestow my attention on just anyone. You have two things going for you." He let his insinuation sink in before he clarified himself, "You are a pure-blood and you intrigue me."

"Lucky me," Elizabeth said sarcastically as she started to put her homework away. "You really are quite full of shit. Why else would you seek out someone who obviously has no use for you?" She pushed herself away from the table and made to stand.

"But I definitely have found a use for you, Danae" Draco muttered then caught her arm before she could walk away and pushed her back in the chair.

Elizabeth glared at him icily and Draco quietly laughed. The look would have made a lesser man beg for her forgiveness. "You are pushing it, Malfoy. I would feel no remorse if I should 'accidentally' send you flying out of your chair and into the bookshelf behind you, maybe knocking some sense into you. Though I doubt that's possible. I'm resisting the temptation, but only just. Now let go of my arm," she seethed.

"Temper, temper. You wouldn't want Potter to know you had been seen in the library with me again, now would you? He might feel it necessary to retaliate and you wouldn't want him to be kicked off the Quidditch team again. How would you deal with the guilt?" Draco smirked as he turned Elizabeth loose, noticing his words had found their mark.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked between her clenched teeth, resisting the urge to stand again. "Not that your answer will mean much to me, but more out of curiosity. Why do you bother? I'm clearly not your type. Is it just the fact that I'm dating Harry or do you have something more perverse motivating you?"

Draco's eyes narrowed slightly at Elizabeth's mention of Potter then he resumed his casual manner. "I told you before you intrigue me. You are obviously more than you appear to be at first glance . . . Chime," he smiled as Elizabeth's face blanched slightly, "Yes, I know your dirty, little secret. I've known it since that day at the paddock. I have to admit I was quite impressed with the way you were able to heal yourself so quickly. If you were a normal healer, you wouldn't have been able to do it at all. Yes, I know the difference so don't try to deny it."

Elizabeth eyed him warily now. "Good for you. I have nothing more to lose if word leaked out about what I am. It will eventually. You can't hold that over my head. I repeat, Malfoy. What do you want?"

Draco smirked. He enjoyed catching her off guard. "I heard you liked the flowers."

"Flowers?" she repeated, looking slightly puzzled.

"The lilacs I sent."

"You sent those?" she said, unable to keep the note of disbelief from her voice.

"Obviously."

"Why?"

"Why not? I knew you liked lilacs and like I've said several times before, you intrigue me. Not many people can say that," Draco said honestly but with a note of sarcasm.

"How did you know I like lilacs?"

Draco gave a predatory smile and leaned closer to her. He sniffed her hair. "Your scent."

Elizabeth said nothing. So he had noticed her scent and she intrigued him, she still had no idea why she was still talking to him. She again made to stand and Malfoy's words stopped her as she started to walk away.

"I wonder. Why do you run from me, Elizabeth? Are you afraid your urge to slap me might turn into an urge to kiss me?" Draco quietly taunted.

Elizabeth swung around to face him. "I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy. And the urge to kiss you has definitely never . . ."

The words became lodged in her throat as her eyes fell on the ring dangling from his neck. She reached out her hand to touch it though she couldn't remember thinking to do so and Draco caught her hand in his before she could wrap her fingers around it. Something stirred in the recesses of her mind as she looked into Malfoy's eyes. A fleeting vision of a tender kiss. She stared at him for a moment then he let go of her hand and the memory faded before it was fully formed.

"What have you done?" Elizabeth whispered, surprising herself as much as Draco. She shook her head slightly, feeling as if she had been drawn into in some sort of trance as she glanced again at the ring. She wanted it with every fiber of her being and it scared her.

Draco tucked the ring back into his shirt then calmly said, "I sent you flowers." Then he stood and inclined his head to her, trying to appear unruffled. "But now I'm through gifting you with my presence. I believe Pansy will be waiting to feel my 'wand' between her thighs. Do send Potter my abject loathing, won't you?"

Elizabeth's eyes followed him until he disappeared out the library door and she continued to stand there for several minutes, trying to calm herself. She had a sick feeling in her stomach and her head began to throb. Malfoy was keeping something from her.