Cold

Chapter Three

(Draco Malfoy)

I had to admit, I regretted not eating the night before as I stuffed a chocolate frog into my mouth before Potions. Of course, the night before, I didn't want it, even if I probably should have eaten anyway, just so I wouldn't be hungry today. Oh well, I told myself, get over it. I took my seat at the front of the class, early as always, watching Professor Snape put a charm on the chalk to write the ingredients on the board. He turned.

"Good morning," he said flatly, as he always did.

"Hey," I returned. Even if he was my favorite teacher, it didn't mean I had to go all Hermione Granger and act like a total suck-up.

"How was your summer?" He asked casually.

"Let's not talk about that, okay?" I sighed, stepping over to help set up the tables.

"That bad, huh?" He glanced at me from over his shoulder. I could sense his smile- the one he never showed.

I felt a grin spread across my face, but it quickly faded with the thoughts of summer returning. "...Yeah..."

"Why aren't you at breakfast?"

"I didn't feel like it," I returned. "I didn't want to be around anyone. I still don't."

"You'll have to get over that."

"I know, I know," I sighed, placing the final kettle on the last table. "Blame the summer. Hell, I don't even like my cronies."

Snape shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you."

I grinned again. "You never do."

A moment of silence fell between us, just grinning at each other stupidly, something neither of us did around other people, but each other. He was more like a father to me than my real father ever was. Our normal scowls returned when the doors flew open, revealing students walking into the dungeon. I ran a hand through my hair and took my seat. Snape let go of the chalk and it went to the board and began scratching the ingredients on the blackboard.

The students' chatter and laughter made me feel uneasy and a bit depressed, as it always did. I closed my eyes and tried desperately to tune it out, but to no avail. Snape put a hand on my shoulder and I stared up at him. He always looked strong when I was looking up at him. His eyes held this strange sympathy, one that was hard to read, but there, none the less.

"Don't let it get to you. You'll be happy too," he muttered.

Severus Snape. Always a surprise, behind the scenes. I doubted anyone but I knew this secret, caring side of him. Of course... he felt sorry for me when the Dark Mark was planted on my arm at such a young age of fifteen.

"It still hurts," I murmured. "And it still bleeds."

"We'll talk about this later," he returned in the same quiet voice as the bell rang.

Snape moved to the front and began in his stern voice, the one that scared Neville Longbottom, "Welcome to your Seventh Year of Potions at Hogwarts. As you know, this year will be the hardest of all. More will be expected of you than ever. You will have to be a role model to the younger students.

Your grades will really count on your magical careers now. This is the year that counts. Now, begin the assignment on the board. Everyone will be working alone for this project. And..." He glowered at Harry and his gang. "No. Talking."

Harry returned the glare, but Hermione squeezed his arm. Ron looked a bit nervous, however.

"So..." I muttered. "THOSE two finally hooked up. No wonder the Weaslette was upset."

And so the first day of Seventh Year began...

(Ginny Weasley)

After finishing all my homework-finally- I headed out for the lake. I needed to think. I always needed to think. It seemed that I no longer had anytime to sort anything out in my head. I carried too much on my shoulders. If only there was someone I could speak to...

"No, Ginny," I thought. "Don't even think about telling anyone. They'll have you put in St. Mungo's for sure."

I felt like crying again as I felt that icy touch of Tom Riddle on my shoulder again. He was always around me, taunting me, haunting me. How could I possibly live with this evil man upon my shoulders? He was telling me horrid things, things that I would never want to do. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, staring out upon the horizon as the sun set.

There was only one person who I could talk to, and there was no way I'd approach him again. It was just an accident on the train anyway. Why would he even WANT to speak to me? I sighed and lay against my knees.

"What am I gonna do?"

I didn't know how long I had remained that way until sleep claimed me. Not that it mattered. My dreams were closer to reality than... reality.

I could feel myself walking down a long corridor, colder than the arctic itself. I hugged myself, trying desperately to stay warm. I passed by mirrors, so many mirrors, each holding the reflection of my possessor. I was stumbling now, feeling a sharp pain right above my right breast. My breathing was more harsh than my heartbeat. I clutched that painful spot, biting my lip as his laughter filled my ears.

"Stop... stop..." I whispered.

(Draco Malfoy)

I hadn't expected to see the Weaslette again so soon, especially in such horrid shape. I had gone to the lake to be alone, and found her there, her face deathly pale, bringing out those bright red freckles on her face. Her hair was astray as she leaned against the tree, asleep.

Her hand clutched her chest and she was murmuring in her slumber. Noticing how late it was getting, I decided I might as well awaken her. I went to shake her awake, but froze when her hand fell, revealing the bloody spot above her breast. I gasped and softly pulled her shirt down slightly, only to fall into more shock.

"The... D-dark... Mark..."