Momentary Seizures of Love

But it's a crime

You're mistaken

Momentary seizure of love

Oh love...

- Shudder To Think, "Hot Ones"

Crowds in the Great Hall were something that you didn't see just every day at Hogwarts. Crowds at the tables, sure, but not crowds on beautiful Sundays, when the sun melted the snow and made everything sparkle.

The focal point of this crowd, as Harry discovered, was part of the wall, against which was a chair. Seated in the chair was Draco Malfoy, and he was playing the mandolin with a skill fit to rival professionals. On a ledge above him was a skinny, genderless ghost wearing the uniform of a student in Slytherin, who was singing with an equally genderless voice. The students gathered all around were speechless. At the moment, the song was "God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen," though it was nearly Easter vacation, and Malfoy's fingers danced on the mandolin strings.

Harry listened with the rest of the crowd, and when the song was over, he clapped with them despite himself. Draco looked up. His expression went cold. "Potter."

"I hate to say this, Malfoy, but that was really good."

"Thanks." The response was emotionless. After a moment's fidgeting with the strings, he went back to playing.

This time he sang in harmony with the ghost, a slow, mournful song in what sounded like Gaelic. Apparently, he hadn't done any singing before Harry's arrival, to judge by the gasps from the collected crowd. It was the sort of wailing tune rarely heard outside of funerals, or away from heath-covered hillsides, and at some point it segued from Gaelic to English.

"My lover did run from the cold of my arms

My lover did run to the storm,

Now there's beauty aplenty, but love there is nothing

For nothing remains of my love...

My lover had beauty, a beauty was she

And her kisses were ever so warm

But warmth has all faded, and beauty is nothing

For nothing remains of my love...

I would follow my lover o'er hill and through glen

I would follow through fire and ice

But this loyalty's lacking, my lover's now nothing

For nothing remains of my love..."

There was a long silence after this song finished.

Then, hesitantly, someone began to applaud, and it spread, until Harry was the only person not clapping. He just stood and stared.

Malfoy detuned his mandolin in the manner of one who had done it a thousand times before, and packed it away in a case next to his chair. The ghost with no gender hopped down from the ledge and walked out of the crowd, through several of the younger students, who jumped back, shuddering.

The crowd dispersed slowly, and once it was gone, Malfoy made his way out of the hall. Harry followed him.

"Was there something you wanted, Potter?"

"I didn't know you could play."

"All Malfoys play. It's a family tradition." The blonde boy continued on, apparently not caring whether Harry followed him.

"What was that song, that?"

"'Nothing Remains.' It's old."

"...and who was that ghost?"

"Charmer. She stays in our Common Room most of the time." The case slipped in Malfoy's hand, and he stopped to adjust his grip.

Harry caught up. "You don't seem to be yourself lately, Malfoy. You haven't tried to hex me in three days, and you've left me alone in Potions for the past week."

"Same with you. You've been quieter."

A first-year Slytherin boy came racing up the corridor and skidded to a stop in front of them. "Excuse me, Malfoy sir, Grace's having a fit and I told Pansy and she told me to come get you."

Malfoy paused, frowning. "A fit? How?"

"She's laughing fit to burst, and can't seem to stop. I think Pansy tried to ask her what was wrong, but she couldn't answer."

"Shit." The obscenity was startling to all present; though he was often rude and unpleasant, Malfoy rarely resorted to actual curses. He handed the mandolin case to the boy. "Bring that back to the dormitory and up to my bed. And if it gets damaged, Marwood, you'll wish you were never born. I'll see to Grace."

"Yessir." Marwood held the mandolin in its case gingerly, and he went back to the Slytherin Common Room at a much slower pace. Malfoy turned to Harry.

"Go away, Potter. We have nothing to discuss, and I now have something to attend to."

Harry shrugged and headed back to the Gryffindor Common Room, pondering what he'd seen and heard. One more ghost that he'd never met before, and Malfoy's startling talent for music. He'd never really thought of the other boy as having hobbies other than bothering him and his friends, or talents other than making potions and putting himself in the good graces of teachers.

And Grace had seizures. The more he learned about her, the more disturbing she was. Not that he'd seen or heard much of her since that dinner; she seemed to have been spending most of her time in deserted classrooms and in the library. Well, as far as he knew, that was the only place where she spent her time. It wasn't as if they were friends.

A loud yell distracted him, and, turning a corner, he found Eloise Midgen, staring at a very large spider. From what he saw through the open door of the Transfiguration classroom, it had until recently been a teapot.

Professor McGonagall stuck her head out of the classroom. "Give that here, Potter."

He picked it up by one leg and handed it to the professor. She nodded. "Good. Miss Fawcett, Miss Bones, come out here and apologize."

The two girls named stepped out of the classroom, both blushing. One, a dark-haired Ravenclaw that Harry remembered as Saba Fawcett, nodded to Eloise. "Sorry, Eloise. Susan and I were working on that transfiguration for homework, and we lost control of the spider."

Susan agreed, quietly, looking very embarrassed, and then they hurried back into the classroom. Professor McGonagall made a second apology to Eloise, and then followed, shutting the door behind her.

This over, Harry attended to Eloise himself. "You all right, Eloise?"

Eloise nodded slowly. She was a Hufflepuff, in his year, and now that her acne was clearing up he saw that she was actually rather pretty. "I...I don't like spiders. Thanks for getting it."

"You want me to walk you back to your Common Room?"

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks, Harry. Please."

***

When Draco arrived at the Slytherin Common Room, Grace was leaning against the wall, laughing hard enough that she barely made any sound, and the other Slytherins were slowly backing away from her. He frowned, and something occurred to him that he'd nearly forgotten about. "Grace."

She didn't respond, still laughing.

"Grace."

She continued to laugh.

"Grace, be silent!"

Her mouth snapped shut. "Yes, Uncle Lucius." Then, after a pause, she looked around the room. "Oh, hullo, dragon-lover. You're sounding more and more like your father every day." She paused, for a moment, taking a breath, but then she bubbled up into laughter again, as if this vocal similarity was irresistibly funny.

Draco scowled and stalked over, grabbed her by the wrist. "We need to talk. And you're scaring everyone. Come on."

Letting out another whoop of near-silent mirth, Grace followed him down the hall to his dormitory.

"Sit."

She sat down on his bed, still shaking with laughter, and he got her a glass of water. She gulped it down gratefully, and then grinned at him. "Is there something wrong, Draco?"

"Yes, there's something wrong. What did you put in the wine the other night at the Grey Witch?"

In response, she collapsed into another spate of hilarity.

"I should look into having you committed to the mental ward at St. Mungo's...look, just tell me what it was."

"V...ver...veritaserum...in vino veritas..." Unable to suppress it anymore, she tipped over on one side and lay there on the bed, convulsing with mirth.

He blinked. "Don't be an idiot. You don't know how to make that."

"Y-yes I do! That's why it took a month. Professor Snape needed more...told me how...Potions practical...got an excellent grade..." Her ability to speak was being swallowed up by her incessant laughter.

Making a face, Draco pulled her upright and slapped her, hard, across the face.

"Thank you. I needed that."

The second slap came with less warning.

"You unprincipled bitch!"

"And that one was for...?"

"The Veritaserum!"

"It was months ago, dragon-lover." She seemed to have regained her composure.

"Do you know what Father's going to do to you when he finds out that you gave me Veritaserum without my knowledge?"

Grace raised a charred eyebrow. "He's not going to do anything, dragon. Do you really want him to know that you may have spilled intimate secrets to Harry Potter over a fairy-lit dinner?"

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but then stopped.

"It wouldn't be very good for you."

"I'm going to kill you, Grace. Poison. Beat you at your own game."

"No you're not. By the way, I'm going to be staying with you and Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa over the Easter holidays, but I've got some work to finish. So I'll be taking the Floo over tomorrow evening, by Professor Dumbledore's permission."

He glared at her. "Why are you staying with us? You haven't exactly gotten into my good favors recently."

"Father is going to be away on a business trip. Uncle Lucius invited me." She smiled at him, mouth stretching so wide that her teeth flashed. Normal teeth, but still an unpleasant grin. "Do you want me to go back to the Common Room?"

"Yes. Do that."

***

The music distracted Harry as he made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. He peered into the Great Hall. It was lit, though it should have been dark one or two hours ago. The tables had been put away for the night.

On the dais where the teacher's table went during the day was an open chest, which was emanating the music Harry had heard. He was surprised. It had sounded like an entire string quartet, not just a magical music box. Charmer, the ghost from before, was sitting next to it, tapping one spectral foot.

Grace and a Ravenclaw prefect that Harry recognized vaguely as being Jessica Oberon were in the center of the floor, dancing, Grace in the lead. It seemed that Jessica was only just now learning the dance, because she kept faltering, and they would stop so that the mistake could be explained and corrected. When dancing, Grace herself seemed...well, more graceful. The limp didn't show as much, and, at least with Jessica, she was patient and calm and apparently happy.

Strains of their conversation drifted to his ears.

"...so calm tonight. Has something good happened?"

"Of course." Grace's voice was surprisingly warm. "I'm with you."

Jessica sounded slightly playful. "Really? And why does that make you so calm?"

"Because you are my most lovely, my delight, my beautiful lady, my prettiest habit, and I will never forget that..." They pulled apart, Grace bowing and kissing Jessica's hand. "My queen, my charming, my most wonderful creature of light..."

Harry turned away from the door, feeling rather embarrassed, as if he'd just walked in on a couple's lovemaking. In a way, he supposed, he had.

The music followed him back to his dormitory.

***

The fire in the Great Hall burned brightly. Grace bowed to Professor Sinistra, who was there to supervise her departure. "Good bye, Professor."

"Safe trip, Miss D'arcangelo." Professor Sinistra was a woman of few words.

Grace tossed the Floo powder into the fire, stepped in, and said, in a loud, clear voice, "Lucius Malfoy's study!"

***

In his bed at home, Draco pulled himself from the arms of Morpheus for just a moment. A drink of cold water. Just that, and then back to bed. He dragged himself to the bathroom.

What a strange dream he'd had. Of course, lately he had a lot of strange dreams, and they all involved some form of himself and Potter, but this one had been different.

The difference struck him suddenly, and he nearly dropped his glass, shuddering.

***

Yawning, Harry sat up, and wished that he had a mug of hot cocoa. He didn't, and he was too sleepy to go to the kitchens, so he decided to go back to sleep.

The dreams were coming on thick and fast, lately. Half were about the mysterious hall, it seemed, and the other half about fighting with Malfoy. The last, just before he'd woken, had been a Malfoy dream. Not quite the same, though.

He thought about it for a moment, and his eyes widened. He slammed himself back into the pillows and covered his head with his blankets.

***

Grace stepped out of the fireplace after brushing the soot off her robes. "Hello, Uncle."

From the couch where he was seated, Lucius Malfoy looked up and smiled faintly. "Hello, Grace."

The blonde girl slunk over to him, leaning down over the back of the couch so that her arms wrapped around his chest. She pressed her cheek to his. "It's been a while."

"Yes. Sit with me." She obeyed, moving around and curling up on the couch next to him, leaning against his side. He stroked her hair absentmindedly. "Draco's been doing well? I have not gotten to see him yet. His mother picked him up. I was working."

"Yes, Uncle. Very well." Grace relaxed, resting her cheek on his shoulder. She smiled. "I have been offered a job in Potions research at the Ministry of Magic, pending my N.E.W.T.s, and one in the Experimental Charms research division."

"Will you take either of them?"

"No. I am going to remain independent. I will work on commission."

His faint smile widened. "Will you take my commissions, then?"

"Of course, Uncle Lucius. Anything for you. I am always on retainer for you." She straightened a bit, putting her arms around his chest. He continued to stroke her hair. "How is Aunt Narcissa?"

"At the moment, she is rather ill. She took with something an hour or so after Draco came home. It's probably a flu; the symptoms were similar. A house-elf is caring for her." The stroking hand moved from hair to back. "She'll be fine. I am simply bored."

"Would you like me to entertain you, then, Uncle Lucius?" Her hand slid inside his shirt.

He did not look down at her, though he did settle back into the cushions more. "You are a devious, amoral young woman."

"I know."

"So what do you propose for this...entertainment?"

"Anything." She moved up to whisper in his ear. Her eyes glittered in a face like a grinning skeleton. "Anything for you, Lucius. Anything at all."

***

Grace, Lucius found, was very light, and was nearly as easy to carry now as she had been when she was young. He had conjured up a blanket to wrap her in, and a house-elf was trotting along behind him, carrying her robes, as they walked up to the largest guest room. The young woman in his arms was fast asleep, her bare arms twined around his neck.

He smiled to himself. She had become a very intelligent young woman. And she was extremely energetic.

A movement caught his eye, and he turned and saw the surface of a mirror ripple, reflecting a face that was not his. He dropped to his knees, still holding Grace. "My lord."

"Lucius." Voldemort stepped out of the mirror, towering over the other man. "It will be soon. I will need to call the boy to me before he leaves Hogwarts."

"What do you wish me to do, my lord?"

"Wait. Watch. Ask your son if he has seen any sign of Potter's agitation, for he is worried by the visions I send him; I can feel it. If it becomes obvious, contact me."

"Yes, my lord."

Voldemort leaned down to look at Grace. One long, thin finger traced the scar on her face, from one cheekbone to the other. "This is some mistress of yours, Lucius?"

"No, my lord. A schoolmate of my son's, and the daughter of a friend."

The Dark Lord seemed amused by this. "And yet still you have slept with her. How...fitting. Hm...she dreams of power."

There was a long silence. Lucius did not dare to look up. "My lord?"

"Stand, Lucius. Give her to me."

Lucius obeyed. Voldemort held Grace like a doll, looking at her contemplatively. "She will serve me, all unknowingly. I will make her powerful."

He whispered something in Parseltongue. Two snakes appeared, twisting around Grace's arms, and then sank into her skin, leaving two long tattoos. The heads of the snakes were on the inside of each wrist. He handed her back to Lucius. "She will be a good servant."

Voldemort stepped back through the mirror and out of sight. Lucius felt the Dark Mark on his arm burn, and saw the snakes on Grace's arms gleam in the low light of the candles. "I suppose, through this, you will achieve your dream."

***

'We need to talk.'

The note had been on the nightstand next to Draco's bed when he arrived back from vacation. It was written in thin, spiky handwriting that was difficult to read. But he knew who it was from.

He flipped the note over, pulled out the Never-Inkless Quill that his mother had given him, and wrote a reply on the back.

'Astronomy Tower, fourth floor, third room on the left. Eleven o'clock tonight.'

***

"You're late, Potter."

"Just by a few minutes."

"So?" Draco looked at Harry expectantly. "You wanted to talk."

Harry nodded, sitting down on an old table that had been put in the room for storage. "Have you been having...odd dreams? Besides that one that ended up with us punching each other and you getting knocked out?"

There was a long pause, during which color crept into the faces of both boys.

"...yes. Quite a few, actually. And I've an idea of what started them."

"Really?"

"Yes. That dinner with Grace. She put Veritaserum in the red wine."

Harry blinked, frowning. "That explains the talkativeness. ...you know, we've been talking for five minutes now, and neither one of us has tried to kill the other."

"Yes, I noticed. But I believe we were talking about the dreams."

"Yes. The dreams." Harry went a little redder.

Another long silence.

"Something I've realized, Potter, is that when we talk without fighting, we actually don't say very much."

"No."

"I wonder why."

Harry thought for a moment, then hopped down off the table. "I think there's something I need to be doing now."

Draco nodded. "Agreed. I wonder what. If this was a normal Astronomy Tower meeting, I'd say snog. But it's not."

Abruptly Harry, who had been standing and staring disconnectedly at a wall, strode over, picked Draco up, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

A shock wave rippled through the castle as their lips met. Glass objects in the kitchens and dormitories melted and froze. Several students woke up, startled. Professor Dumbledore himself sat bolt upright in bed, with the feeling that something terribly important was happening...terribly important, and now unstoppable.

In her bed, with the curtains drawn, Grace knelt next to the box, watching the tiny Harry-figure and Draco-figure, until suddenly her head jerked upward. Her arms were flung out to the sides, and she could feel her pupils dilating as something hot and cold, ephemeral and solid, dove down her throat, filling her arms and legs and chest. A voice spoke in her ear, one that she vaguely remembered from dreams. With. Together. Not apart. You have done well. If she had been in any state to think, she would have wondered what accomplishment the voice was talking about. Probably Draco and Harry snogging, although she wasn't sure why this would be important except to demonstrate that, with a minimal amount of effort, she could make the improbable happen. This satisfied her.

Back in the Astronomy Tower, the two boys pulled apart, both breathing rather heavily. Draco shook his head, blinking. "Well. That was...unique."

"Shall we continue?"

"Yes, I rather think I'd like that."

Near half an hour later they broke apart again.

"Harry..."

"Yes?"

"Your lips have frostbite."

"Yours are burnt to a crisp."

"Maybe we should go see Madame Pomfrey."

"Yes, good idea."

They staggered down to the infirmary together and fainted dead away in front of the doors. Where Harry's hand touched the stone, it heated, leaving an indentation in his hand's shape. Draco's fingers sent lines of frost shooting along the cracks.