The Serpent and the Eagle

INTERLUDE - GLASS ROSES

St. Mungo's Hospital, London

'Cassandra?'

Pure blue eyes glanced up from between the pretty white curtains that enclosed her functional hospital bed, taking in the young adolescent behind them. Something stirred uncomfortably in his mind. It was as if she was separated from the rest of the world by that flimsy length of cheap cotton.

'Albus,' Cassandra said simply.

'Glad you remember me,' Dumbledore said happily, sliding between the curtains.

She curled up, clasping her hands loosely about her knees and feeling the waffle pattern of the blankets on her bare wrists.

'What are you doing here?'

'Wondering if you're alright, that's all,' the auburn-haired youth replied, seating himself in a chair by her bed.

'Well, I'm perfectly fine, as you can see. Now, please go home!' Cassandra snapped, squeezing her darkening eyes shut. They were changing from blue to purple, but Albus was too dazed by her presence to notice.

He smiled with a fond exasperation that he had perfected in the last two years. Now fifteen, he had decided that time was ripe enough to pay a visit to his favourite Seer.

'I can't,' Albus replied simply. 'I have temporarily lost the ability to walk, and it looks like I'll have to stay here with you until I regain my senses.'

Cassandra looked at him strangely for a moment and then burst out laughing.

Dumbledore waited until the tides of side-splitting laughter had receded to a mere choking giggle, and said, 'I see you can laugh again.'

'Thanks, Albus,' she chuckled. 'That's the first time I've laughed in ages.'

'And I'm glad to hear it,' Albus smiled, blue eyes twinkling. 'Hogwarts has been lonely without you there.'

'And it's been so lonely here...without your goofy antics to cheer me up!'

'You still look beautiful, Cassandra,' Albus said softly.

'And you look different,' she finished thoughtfully.

He removed his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the roses in the vase. She watched, intrigued as they transformed into the most delicate and intricate glass sculptures she had ever encountered.

Charms may have been a forte for Albus, but Transfiguration was his passion and perfection. Without uttering a word, he could have transformed garbage into diamonds, or vice versa. This talent was capable of utter beauty or ungodly repulsiveness, just as Cassandra's was.

'For you,' he said with a nervous laugh, 'and sorry I'm so cheap.'

Cassandra regarded the youth closely.

She had last seen him on that fateful night, and she had remembered a weedy thirteen-year-old with beautiful blue eyes, a goofy smile and tragically curling auburn hair.

She had not expected this strapping young man, his muscles beginning to develop and his height already sweeping and elegant. His hair was longer, by about two and a half feet to be exact. It was wavy, no longer curly. His eyes were just as gentle as she recalled, and his smile more touching than goofy.

She shook herself mentally.

He's only fifteen! She chided herself. And you are nineteen! It would never work...

And somehow, she could not bring herself to recoil when he took her hand gently in his and raised it to two tender, perfectly pink lips that nestled under the beginnings of soft whiskers.

'I love you,' Dumbledore whispered, and fled the ward in a flurry of clicking boot heels.

It was as if her own soul was being torn from her. A great chasm opened in her breast as the hem of his long coat vanished behind the doorpost.

'Wait!' Cassandra croaked. 'Please, wait!'

Chapter Two - Revenge Is Best Served Cold

[Give In To Me]

[Michael Jackson]

She always takes it with a heart of stone,
Cause all she does is throws it back to me.
I've spent a lifetime looking for someone...
Don't try to understand me,
Just simply do the things I say.

Love is a feeling;
Give it when I want it.
Cause I'm on fire,
Quench my desire,
Give it when I want it,
Talk to me woman,
Give in to me,
Give in to me.

You always knew just how to make me cry,
And never did I ask you questions why.
It seems you get your kicks from hurting me.
Don't try to understand me,
Because your words just aren't enough.

Love is a feeling,
Quench my desire,
Give it when I want it.
Taking me higher.
Love is a woman,
I don't wanna hear it.
Give in to me,
Give in to me.

You and your friends were laughing at me in town,
But it's okay, but it's okay.
You won't be laughing girl, when I'm not around.
I'll be okay, and I'm gonna find...
Got a good piece of mind, girl.

Don't try to tell me,
Because your words just aren't enough.

Love is a feeling,
Quench my desire,
Give it when I want it.
Taking me higher.
Talk to me woman,
Love is a feeling.
Give in to me,
Give in to me.

Oh! Love is a feeling,
I don't wanna hear it.
Quench my desire;
Give it when I want it.
Tell it to the preacher,
Satisfy the feeling.
Give in to me,
Give in to me.

Hogwarts Express, September 1^st

It was an absolutely hellish day. A late summer storm rumbled and raged outside, while the Hogwarts Express chugged its merry way through the elements regardless. The rumbling chatter of newly reunited students buzzed around the train like a swarm of excited bees, all of them exchanging summer gossip and speculations and holiday tales and triumphs.

Cho stumbled down the corridor of the train, hardly able to believe her bad luck. The last on the train! It was all Uncle Ping's fault! If he had only let her use magic to fix the car, they'd have been in plenty of time. But no, Uncle Ping has to show off his ridiculous lack of mechanical skills and deliver her to King's Cross in the back of some Muggle's Land Rover!

Cho struggled with her luggage, peering through glassy windows to check if the compartment was empty, or if her friends were there.

Where are you, Marietta? Cho thought viciously. You'd have better have come back this year, or I'll...

She froze as she looked into the next one. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Virginia Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood were all sitting in there, laughing themselves silly at some joke Ron was telling. Cho snarled in rage. How dare he just get over her like that? How dare he be so...so...calm, and collected...and jolly well...urbane about the whole affair!

She stamped angrily and squeezed her fingers tightly about her luggage handles in rage. Suddenly, the train rounded a bend, and Cho fell headfirst through an open compartment door...straight into the arms of some strong male.

'Well, well, well!' a familiar voice drawled. 'I normally get to know a girl before I sweep her off her feet and into my private compartments.'

'Draco Malfoy, I presume?' Cho said, throwing her eyes heavenward.

Was it really necessary for him to make an innuendo?

Draco set Cho back on her feet as though she were a priceless Ming vase, delicately and slowly.

His silvery eyes roved all over her body, as if drinking her in.

Cho instantly regretted wearing that new shirt. It wasn't as if the top was tight, oh no! It was merely...low cut. Low cut enough to make Draco Malfoy smile like a cat that has spotted fresh cream.

'Care to sit in here with me, Cho?' Draco asked, his smile every bit as charming as his voice and demeanour.

The sexual undertone was gone, and he merely appeared to be a gracious, suave and somewhat sinister host.

Lightning briefly illuminated the compartment and splashed across his features, giving her the uncanny impression that he was between light and dark, and the light would vanish all too soon.

'I may as well,' Cho replied, 'seeing as I have nowhere else to sit, and nobody else to sit with.'

Malfoy raised a perfect eyebrow, and she instantly regretted the severity and bitterness of her words.

'You have here,' Draco said calmly, 'and you have me.'

Thunder rumbled overhead.

Cho felt the telltale warmth of a blush fill her cheeks like rain filling empty spring pools.

'Care for some Butterbeer?' Draco proffered, shaking the bottle playfully. 'Only the best, and it's imported directly from Sweden.'

Cho gratefully accepted it.

'Thank you,' she said, tucking a rogue lock of hair behind her ear.

Two six-packs of Butterbeer later, and Draco and Cho were more than a little tipsy.

'Draco?' Cho said. 'I think I'm a little bit drunk.'

'Well, Cho,' Draco confessed, 'this Butterbeer is Swedish! Which means...that it's alcoholic!'

She looked at him with an almost admiring look in her eyes.

'You're a wild man, Draco Malfoy!' Cho muttered sarcastically.

'You know what, Cho?' Draco said philosophically.

'What?' Cho said drunkenly.

'Despite your being a Ravenclaw,' Draco began, 'and your naivety, you and I are the same person. We are the same, underneath it all.'

'How do you make that one out, Malfoy?' she asked. 'I'm not a man!'

Draco chuckled appreciatively, and beckoned to her as if he were the serpent tempting Eve with the most beautiful fruit in the entire Garden.

'We are both,' he began, moving closer with every word, his eyes burning into hers so passionately that she felt she might faint if she tried to resist, 'intelligent, devilishly attractive, shockingly sexy and highly skilled Seekers, students and people.'

Cho smiled, and felt a girlish blush paint her cheeks.

'Go on,' she said, turning to face him.

He was now mere inches away from her face.

His hand reached out to tuck the same errant lock of hair behind her ear. It had come loose again.

'One thing I will say for Potter...' Draco whispered, 'the boy has spectacular taste.'

'And how do you make that one out, Draco?' Cho murmured, every nerve in her body being drawn to him like a screw to a magnet.

'He has a Firebolt,' Draco said instantly, and followed up with a smile, 'And also...he chose you. Out of all the girls in Hogwarts, he chose you.'

Cho looked away with an embarrassed grin.

'Yeah, but that fizzled out pretty quickly.'

'The fool. I'd never have let you get away.'

Draco's silvery eyes looked at her from under pale eyebrows, narrowed slightly in restricted desire and lust.

Cho almost giggled in delight. Somehow, she managed to contain herself.

Giggling at something Draco Malfoy said would be unforgivable. It would be like blushing if somebody propositioned her. Which was, essentially, what Draco was attempting to do. And Cho rather liked it.

'Should we find somewhere more private, eh?' Draco suggested.

Despite her earlier thoughts, a drunken liaison with Draco Malfoy did not truly appeal to her right now.

'Should we maybe sober up a little first?' Cho replied.

Draco sighed heavily.

'Very well,' he moaned.

'Sobrius,' said Cho, aiming the spell at Draco first, and then herself.

'Ahh...' winced Draco.

'How do you feel?'

'I think I needed that. Where was I?'

'Something about how beautiful I am, I think,' mocked Cho.

'Oh,' Draco replied thickly, 'really?'

'Really,' Cho affirmed.

'Ah,' said he.

'So, how was your summer?' Cho said, swiftly changing the topic.

'Cold,' Draco said irritably.

'Well, it was very wet,' Cho agreed.

'And yours?' Draco said politely.

'My father made me get a job in my...local Chinese restaurant.'

'It must have been fascinating to work with Muggles,' Draco said dryly.

Cho could feel hot colour flood her face right to the roots of her jet-black hair.

'Not really...although I did hex this fat bastard who tried it on with me,' Cho recalled.

Draco's interest was perked.

'Really?' He asked. 'Sounds interesting! How exactly did you hex him?'

'Tarantallegra,' Cho explained, 'and I got the inspiration from your duel with Potter back in your second year.'

'You remember that?' Draco asked, delighted and somewhat flattered.

'Of course!' Cho replied. 'I loved it. It was fantastic, seeing you kicking Potter's wussy little ass...'

Cho's sentence trailed off into a scream as a midget owl came flying through their window, shattering the glass into tiny smithereens. Draco plucked it from the air easily, wrapping nimble Seeker's fingers about its feathered body.

'You belong to Weasley!' Malfoy sneered, tightening his grip around the little owl's neck.

It gave a frightened squawk just as the door flew open.

'That's right, Malfoy,' Hermione Granger snapped, 'and you're going to return him.'

'I don't know about that,' Draco taunted, 'seeing as it seemed desperate to escape you all.'

'Give him me!' Hermione said.

'I think not,' Draco teased, stroking the owl's head. 'Wouldn't he make a wonderful companion for my new pet?'

Draco seized a black silk cloth with his other hand, revealing a glass case that held a three-headed snake with orange and black stripes.

'A runespoor,' Cho breathed.

'I call her Artemis...the goddess of the hunt.' Draco explained, pointing to the snake's right head. 'This here is Morpheus in the middle, the goddess of dreams, and on the left we have Sekhmet...who destroys all those unworthy souls. Apt, don't you think?'

'Please, Malfoy, I don't think he's well!' Hermione replied. 'I need to make sure he's alright.'

'What happened to him?' Cho asked, concerned.

'Cho?' Hermione asked, confused. 'What are you doing in here...with Malfoy?'

She was in no mood to deal with perfect little Miss Granger, who always got everything right without being a Ravenclaw! Not to mention it was her fault that Marietta had to wear a balaclava every time she went out in public for the foreseeable remainder of her life!

'Just...tell me what happened to the owl!' Cho snapped.

'Well, Ron and I were practicing spells when he accidentally hit Pigwidgeon with the Tickling Curse...'

'That's easily fixed...Finite Incantatum!' Cho intoned, pointing the spell at the hiccoughing ball of fluffy feathers clutched in Malfoy's hand.

Malfoy winced as the spell grazed his hand, and released the owl.

Pig hit the seat, looking a little dazed, but was soon up and about again, flying around madly.

'Pity,' Draco drawled, 'Weasley's futility could have proven amusing if his owl had died as a result.'

'Draco!' Cho whispered, horrified at what she was hearing.

How could anyone joke about the death of an innocent creature like that?

'You shut your fat mouth, Malfoy!'

The two girls and Draco turned to face Harry and Ron, who had just entered the carriage. Ron was pale, and it was obviously he who had just spoken. Harry was tight-lipped and red-faced.

'Ah!' Draco spat in disgust. 'The Terrible Trio reunited at last. How touching. Tell me, have you three set a date for your shared wedding?'

'Talking through your ass again, are we Malfoy?' Harry asked scathingly.

Draco pressed a hand to his heart in mock injury.

'Even if I am, Potter, if my ass looked anything like your face I'd be ashamed of taking a shit!' Malfoy drawled.

Harry's eyes narrowed. Not even back at Hogwarts, and already Draco Malfoy was harassing him!

'Harry,' Hermione whispered, 'don't listen to that idiot. He isn't worth it!'

Harry smiled sweetly at Malfoy and said, 'Hey, Malfoy? Try this manoeuvre. Take 50 paces backwards. Take several deep breaths. Sprint forward at full speed. Do a triple somersault through the air and disappear up your own ass. Just don't do it while on your broom, I know how tricky it is for you to fly and think at once.'

Cho looked admiringly at Harry.

'Good one,' Ron encouraged.

Cho's patience broke. Draco's pale-faced, tight-lipped fury was frightening, but Harry's attempts at being witty were infuriating to her. No Gryffindor was ever any good at pithy comebacks!

'Get lost, Potter,' Cho snapped. 'And take your pimply, pubescent friends with you!'

'Cho, I...' Harry began.

'Do I have to tell you again?' Cho demanded. 'Dear God!'

She snapped her head away from Harry and seized Draco by the shoulders.

Leaning forward, she fully parted Draco's slightly open lips with her own and explored his mouth with her tongue. Slowly, inexorably, she moved forward until she was curled up on Draco's lap with his arms around her, running up and down her spine like shivers of heat.

She pried one magnificent brown eye open to look at Harry, whose green eyes were taking in the whole sordid scene in ineffable horror.

Ashamed, Cho pushed Draco away from her.

'Now...do...do you get the point? We want to be alone!' Cho stammered.

Hermione threw Cho a glare of unfathomable loathing, and helped Ron usher Harry from the room.

He was deathly pale, his scar appearing almost artificial in its brightness and clarity. Those jade-coloured eyes truly seemed like shimmering jewels now, what with hot tears standing in them, refusing to fall.

Cho felt her stomach twist within her.

How could you? She asked herself. That was unspeakably cruel!

When Harry and his friends beat a retreat from the compartment, all of them wearing combined looks of horror, shock and disgust, Draco turned to Cho in amazement.

'Why did you do that?' he asked, touching his lips gingerly.

'I want to get my own back on Potter,' Cho admitted, and immediately flushed crimson with shame.

'I'm sorry,' she apologised, 'I shouldn't have said that...'

'No, no,' Draco hushed her. 'Revenge is a fine thing. It is something we in Slytherin learn from a young age.'

'But I'm a Ravenclaw!' Cho wailed. 'I'm supposed to be clever and witty, not vicious and vengeful...no offence.'

'None taken, it's rather the compliment,' Draco replied.

'I shouldn't be saying such nasty things!' whispered the Ravenclaw prefect.

'Those were words of passion, Cho!' Draco crooned. 'Passion is what gives rise to revenge. You could have your revenge now; and all you have to do is reach out and seize it for yourself. Would you rather that you spent your life as one full of dreariness and despair, never knowing what could have been? It would drive you mad!'

Cho looked up, this new idea igniting within her like a tiny flame from a match ignites a room full of gas.

'Really?' she asked eagerly. 'Would it be that easy?'

'Indeed,' Draco reassured her, nodding sagely.

'What would I have to do?' Cho continued. She was leaning so far forward that Draco could admire the well between her breasts without having to strain to look.

'Not what...' Draco smiled wickedly, 'More along the lines of...who...'

Cho leaned forward, pursing her lips together and wishing that Draco would follow suit...

'Draco?'

Shit! Cho thought, jerking away from Malfoy.

'What is it, Greg?' Draco asked wearily.

'Can we come in, now?' Goyle asked stupidly.

'Can't you see I'm still otherwise occupied?' Draco snapped.

Goyle looked at him blankly. Draco rolled his eyes and muttered, 'Jesus wept, if only that ignoramus had one more brain cell!'

Cho smiled at this wicked comment.

'I am busy,' Draco said briskly, pronouncing each syllable with deliberate, malicious slowness.

Goyle turned away sheepishly and pulled the door to softly.

'Now, where were we?' Draco asked, returning his attention to Cho.

'You were explaining the plan to me...' Cho purred, rising to her feet.

Draco stood too, shrugging lazily as he did so like a cat disturbed from a superb afternoon nap.

'Ah, yes...' Draco grinned.

He pulled her into his arms, and this time, it was he who initiated the mind-blowing, heart-stopping kiss that made the whole world fade away, and thoughts of Harry, Ron's owl and her father vanished with them.

All that mattered now was that Draco keep kissing her, and that she keep responding...

Otherwise, thoughts of Cedric would threaten to emerge from the deepest confines of her mind, haunting her again like that had done for the past year with his spectral smile and phantasmal form...

If she didn't cast these things from her mind, she feared that terrible things would happen, and perhaps they had already begun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Harry...are you ok?'

Harry was curled in a ball in the corner of the carriage, rocking slightly back and forward.

'Here mate, have a chocolate frog,' Ron offered.

'No, thanks,' Harry said coolly.

Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances.

Ginny sat next to him on the velvet-covered seat, smoothing his hair and soothing him with soft sounds.

'Don't pay any attention to that floozy!' Ginny crooned. 'You know she's a waste of time.'

'But I still love her,' Harry murmured so softly that Ginny had to strain to hear him.

It smote her heart to see Harry, the once proud hero of Hogwarts, cowering and suffering so intensely that she could feel the aura of hurt emanating from him like a sickening emotional radiation.

'How could she be so hurtful?' Hermione demanded of no one in particular.

'Well...' Ron reasoned, 'It's not like she and Harry are going out any more...'

'Thank God,' Ginny muttered inaudibly.

'But with Draco Malfoy?' Hermione seethed. 'I'd use a scouring charm if I even brushed off him!'

'I'm not too sure that I'd mind,' Luna Lovegood whispered beneath her breath. She glanced up from a new copy of The Quibbler, some irrational statement waiting to burst into the world from her lips.

'It's the effect of the full moon!' She said earnestly, 'Daddy tells me that it never just affects werewolves.'

Ginny smiled fondly and shook her head.

'It's something a little more nasty than that, Luna,' Ginny explained softly.

Neville shook his head ferociously and stroked his toad's slimy head.

'I never liked her,' Neville asserted, 'did I, Trevor?'

'She's obviously trying to get back at Harry for something...but what?' Hermione said, pacing the cramped confines of the room.

'Well...maybe it's because of what we did to Marietta...you remember?' Ron suggested timidly.

'That's too general, Ron. It would just be like an excuse, or a cover for some ulterior motive!' Hermione continued savagely. 'Anyway, she'd be getting me back for that.'

Ginny turned to Harry and took in his haggard appearance with a heavy heart.

No matter how much she denied it, she still loved him. Perhaps she would always cherish the thought of his easy smile, his vivid eyes, his lightning scar and his tussled hair. They were as much a part of her spirit now as her own arms or legs, and she knew this as fiercely as she knew that cruelty was wrong and that the grass was green.

How could anyone bear to wound such a fragile spirit as Harry's?

To the entire world, he was the brave, conquering, misunderstood tragic boy hero.

On the other hand, to Ginny, he was just...Harry. Just this impossibly sweet, sensitive boy who never caused anyone mental pain or suffering, and who had endured more than his fair share of hardship in his sixteen years.

As if sensing her thoughts, Harry uncurled from the quivering foetal position he had knotted himself into. His face was ashen and tear-tracked, his eyes seeming glassy from tears.

'I'll be fine, Ginny,' he whispered. 'Just give me a minute.'

'What did she do to you?' Ginny murmured tenderly, pushing damp tendrils of tear-soaked hair from his face.

'She just...she wasn't herself. That's what was so cruel about it.' Harry replied with an idle shrug.

Ginny looked into his green eyes and wished that she could have seen that kiss. Not out of some ghoulish obsession, but just so that she might know what it would be like if someone would ever kiss her with such wild abandon.

If she were perfectly honest with herself, then she would have acknowledged her other wish. The wish that stayed with her through these past five years, despite being involved with Michael and Dean...to feel the press of Harry's lips against hers, to feel her body crushed against his and his hands tangled in her hair...

'Ginny?' Harry asked.

Ginny blushed deeply and cleared her throat. Could he have realised her wish? Could he finally be ready to tell her those words she so desperately wanted to hear?

'What is it, Harry?' she said, her voice as soft and tender as downy feathers.

'Do you want anything from the Snack Trolley?' Harry asked.

Ginny slumped back in her seat sullenly.

'No...no. I'm fine,' she replied. 'Just fine.'