It Started on Samhain

The Halloween Ball. A masque of a scale that Hogwarts had never before seen. And all of the students in the Third Year and above were attending. They were taking it seriously, and keeping their costumes a secret.

Anyone in the dungeons five minutes before the Ball started would have been surprised to hear soft music floating from an open door of a private room.

It was trumpet-driven, with a casually-paced beat, and a rowdy chorus of men's voices. It was muggle music.

The crack in the door revealed a full-length mirror, and in that mirror the reflection of a boy. He wore matte black slacks that clung to the muscles of his long, lean legs, and a black button-down shirt. It was open at the upturned collar, offering tantalizing glimpses of the delicate collarbones and smooth, pale skin of a slender throat. The boy swayed sinuously to the music, slowly buttoning the shirt to conceal the smooth skin of his lean, muscular chest. He executed a slow, twisting turn that was serpentine in grace, winding his hips sinfully as he tucked in the silk tails of the shirt. He slid the silver straps of the suspenders up his arms to rest on his shoulders, then ran his thumbs down them to straighten them, winding his torso sensuously. He smirked at his reflection and picked up his tie. Long, graceful hands dragged it around the upturned collar, and clever fingers knotted it swiftly at the base of that slender throat. White-blond hair vanished beneath a black fedora. The boy flicked his wrist and rolled it up his arm, then settled it gently on his head. He smirked at himself a final time and then slipped on the black metallic half-mask, leaving only his nose and mouth visible. His gray eyes glittered. He picked up the jacket that lay on the bed and draped it over one shoulder, letting it swing from one finger.

The last of the trumpet notes died, and he pulled open the door. The Ball was starting.

* * *

No one would know who Anna was. No one would imagine that a Ravenclaw could be this daring. She'd overheard the other girls in her year talking, and they were going - quite predictably - as historical creatures or figures from the textbooks they so adored. Anna was muggle-born and surprisingly proud of it despite the Slytherins and their pureblood prejudices, and she was going to show that off tonight.

She wore a zoot suit of pale gray shot through with green. Her slacks were straight-legged and clung to the firm curves of her bottom. A low-cut white blouse and half-undone green tie lay beneath the matching vest. Her long dark hair was pulled up in a simple ponytail beneath a sexily askew gray fedora, and a steel-gray mask covered her eyes. The peppermint-green satin above the brim of the fedora accented the faint green pinstripes of the suit. Anna examined herself critically in the mirror and smoothed some redness onto her lips. She shrugged into the matching pinstriped jacket - it was cut to flair over her hips - and hurried for the stairs. The Ball was starting soon.

Anna stepped into the Great Hall and discovered that it was already full. Fairies and pixies, knights, vampires and an alluring pair of gypsy twins flooded past her in a swirl of sensory overload. Colors, textures and scents combined to form a magical wonderland beyond the creative power of even Albus Dumbledore. It was beautiful. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, complete with a full moon and shooting stars. Anna smiled joyfully and plunged into the merry, faceless crowd.

Music filled the hall around the students, and heads turned, seeking the source.

At the high table, Dumbledore rose and said, "Everyone dance."
The students immediately fell into the beat of the music, and Anna found herself dancing with a rosy-cheeked Cupid in a white toga. Fast drums and the rolling violin of Celtic music drove the students into a fast jig. Anna laughed when the cheeky, curly-haired Cupid matched her step for step.

Another song came on, one that sounded like good old-fashioned muggle rock. Hands clamped down on her shoulders and spun her around, and Anna found herself face to face with a masked Erlking dressed in white leather. She began dancing with him, enjoying the music and the beat and the energy - she hadn't felt this free in a long time. After a few more fast songs a slow one came on. Anna ducked away from her dance partner - a minstrel in green hose and a brown tunic - and headed for punchbowl where Professor Snape was keeping strict watch. Anna grabbed a cup of punch and took up post against the wall, watching the gently-swaying couples with a smile. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this happy and energetic or had just plain fun.

She finished her cup of punch and considered going in search of another when familiar music flooded the room. The gentle big band notes eased through the hall, teasing the students into dancing to its unfamiliar rhythm. Anna nodded to the beat, amused. Wizards didn't appreciate the upsides to portions of muggle culture. She wouldn't find a suitable dance partner here.

The gleam of black metal caught her eyes, and she lifted her head. Across the Great Hall a boy leaned against the wall, dressed in a stunning black zoot suit shot through with silver pinstripes. His pink mouth curved up in a smirk and he extended a hand in invitation. Gray eyes glittered beneath the black metal of his mask.

Anna set down her empty cup and began weaving through the crowd of awkwardly-dancing witches and wizards. She kept her gaze locked on the boy as he strode toward her, the crowd parting effortlessly before him. He took her hand in his and spun her into a dramatic dip, then pulled her upright just as the woman began to sing.

"...It means you're the fairest in the land..."

He slid an arm around her waist and they eased in a smooth jive. Anna was amazed that anyone here would know big band or swing, but he guided her flawlessly - obviously from loads of practice - and they danced. When the chorus came he grew more daring and led her through wider turns and spins before reeling her back in for some fancy footwork. Students around them stopped to watch, and a small audience formed a circle around them. He executed another dramatic dip when the music stopped, then pulled her up. He drew her in close, their bodies flush and their legs intertwined for the slow section. She gazed into his eyes boldly and kept moving with him.

"I could say bella, bella, even say wunderbar..."

The pace sped up again, and slowly he let her slide away, then reeled her in more and more daring flips and spins until they were full-out jitterbugging. He flipped her over one arm and the students cheered. He spun her around, turned her out and reeled her back in, ending the song with her locked in his arms. The students burst into applause. The boy tipped his hat, and Anna bowed, face flushed with laughter. She turned to the boy to tell him that he was a fantastic dancer when another song came on, another muggle song, but this one was full of electric guitars. The boy yanked her into an A-frame and they began the most heated, twisting half-tango to the harsh power chords. By the time the first verse ended the other students were moving to the heavy beat as well. Anna and the boy broke out of the tango and circled each other, throwing their bodies at each other and jerking back in time to the chord progression, aggression and heat building between them so they locked gazes over and over again.

"...That's the point of delirium..."

Anna closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the violence of the beat. She could feel the boy moving near her, around her, his body heat and the faint scent of his sweat invading her senses.

The song ended, and the boy pulled her into his arms.

"Stay with me," he whispered, his eyes alight behind his mask. "I like the way you dance."

Anna slid an arm around his waist and pressed herself against him. "Will do. You're a fine dancer yourself."

They danced every song together, both of them molding to fit the music no matter what the genre. Anna was amused to find that he could line dance as well as waltz and foxtrot and do any number of other ballroom dances. They gazed into each other's eyes and smirked, competing to see who was the better dancer during each song. Except for the romantic slow songs, during which they stopped by the punchbowl and traded punchy comments about the students who danced badly.

"Look at that - he's got three left feet, I think." "Rhythmless walrus." "Walruses have rhythm." "It is possible to make a walrus look bad, then." "I can't decide if she's trying to squeeze the breath from him or force his toes off with those heels." "Yes, some people actually call that dancing."
Anna enjoyed dancing with the boy. They were of nearly equal height - and most people called her short - so they could exchange witty banter in each other's ears. Another round of fast songs came on, and Anna found that she was becoming familiar with the boy's body and the way he danced. She knew from the tenseness of his thigh against hers which way he was going to step, and from the press of his hand at the small of her back when he would turn her. She discovered that it was more fun dancing with him than competing against him, and that she was content to let countless other dance partners pass by. He seemed equally unwilling to let anyone cut in. They exchanged smiles and heated glances, flirting from behind their masks.

"Will you be with me for the unmasking at midnight?" he asked.

"If only to see who this fantastic dancer is," she murmured into his ear.

A slow song came on, and Anna made to pull away for their customary trip to the punchbowl, but his arm around her tightened.

"Dance with me," he breathed in her ear.

"Do you Latin?" she challenged.

His mouth curved into a smirk. "I do."

The staccato guitar notes gave way to a slow salsa beat, and he drew back slightly. He kept his hands on her waist and began a simple step, and Anna began dancing with him. She slid her hands up his arms, holding his gaze, and curled her fingers at the back of his neck. She was amazed that he could salsa so well - few boys could move their hips with his serpentine grace and still look so deliciously good. His hands tightened on her hips momentarily, and Anna slid one hand down his chest teasingly. She pushed away the moment he spun her, and then he was pressed fully against the length of her body. His chest was warm at her back, and his hips were flush with hers, dipping and twisting in perfect synchronicity.

He kept his fingers resting lightly on her hips, and she could feel his breath, warm and moist, ghosting past her ear.

"You really are a fantastic dancer," he whispered.

Anna said, "You're not so bad yourself."

He spun her around and caught her face in his hands.

"I'm yours," he whispered, and kissed her.

Anna's eyes slid shut when his soft mouth descended on hers, and she wound her arms around his neck, tugging him closer. His arms around her waist tightened. She parted her lips in a breathy moan when he slipped a hand beneath her jacket. He skated his fingers down her sides in a light caress that set her nerves aflame. His tongue darted in to taste her mouth and he moaned, clutching her closer, hands splayed hotly against her ribs.

She kissed him wantonly, nudging a thigh between his. The song and the Ball were forgotten - it was just the two of them answering to the heated passion that had been building between them all evening.

He gasped and shuddered in her arms, throwing his head back.

Anna leaned up and pressed her mouth to the fluttering pulse at his throat. She felt laughter bubbling up at the giddiness that rushed through her - who knew that Anna, studious Ravenclaw, would ever do this with a boy? She trailed kisses up to his jaw line, then darted her tongue out to trace the delicate shell of his ear. He gasped again.

"Wait," he panted, tugging at her waist. "Let me see your face."

Anna pulled back and gazed into his eyes; lust shone out of their silvery depths behind his mask.

"But it's a masque," she protested. She cast a wild look around them and saw that everyone was still masked.

"The music has finally stopped. It's time," he breathed.

Anna realized that he was indeed correct, that the hall was silent.

Albus Dumbledore rose at the High Table and said, "It is time for the masks to come off."

And the Great Hall was suddenly pitch black.

Anna reached up and untied her mask. It slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor with a clatter. Another metal mask clattered beside it. Anna reached out and buried her hands in silky-soft hair and yanked him in for a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

It lasted for only a few seconds before a chorus of gasps broke them apart as the lights came on and the unmasked dancers stared at each other in surprise.

Anna pulled back and found herself gazing into the young, wide-eyed face of fourteen-year-old Draco Malfoy. Even if he was only a Third Year, all of the older students knew who he was. Along with Harry Potter, he was one of the most well-known boys in school.

Anna was horrified. He was but a child! She was a Seventh Year and a prefect and she had a responsibility to act properly.

Draco cupped her face in his hands. "Tell me your name," he breathed, gray eyes desperate. "You have a beautiful face. Please, tell me who you are!"

Anna pulled back gently. Horror and hysteria bubbled inside her, just below the surface. "I think not, Draco Malfoy," she said softly. She reached out and stroked his white-blond hair tenderly when silvery pain blossomed in his eyes. "I know who you are, a Slytherin and the heir of a pureblood family. It would not serve you well to mingle with a mudblood like me. I'm just a lonely Seventh Year who will return to the muggle world and forget that this ever existed. The same way you will forget I exist after this night is done."

Draco shook his head. "No, no! I won't forget you. Please, tell me your name." His eyes shone with unshed tears.

Anna kissed the top of his head tenderly. "Live your life sweetly, my child. Live your life without me in it."

She spun on her heel and plunged into the crowd, ignoring the cries that followed her. She'd had her one magical night. All good things had to end.

Anna slipped out of the Great Hall and headed back to her tower.

* * *

It was early enough in the morning that the stars still glittered overhead, and the clock tower had long since gone silent. A boy sat on the cold stone windowsill of an empty classroom at the top of the Astronomy Tower, gazing at the dark sky. The amorous couples that had escaped from the Halloween Ball had gone to bed hours ago, so he was alone in his contemplation. The jacket of his costume lay carelessly strewn across an unused desk, the black fedora beside it. The boy sat with his arms wrapped around his drawn-up knees, his head resting against the icy stone of the window's arch. The silver tie was pulled loose and the top buttons of his black shirt undone, but instead of making him look provocative the pale skin and delicate collarbones made him seem fragile and young. His face was young and painfully pale in the moonlight. The crystal trails down his cheeks were the only evidence of emotion. His expression was blank and his gray eyes were empty, and his feathery-soft hair was mussed as if an agitated hand had run through it repeatedly.

"Congratulations, Father," he whispered to the still air. "I have become what you shaped me to be. I am Malfoy, aloof and untouchable and destined to serve the Dark Lord in the most terrible way possible. No one will take me and give me something of my own to hold dear - all I hold dear is that which you gave me: a name and a destiny."

He buried his face in his hands but did not cry. "You win, Father."

* * *

Anna would have murdered Percy Weasley if she'd had the energy. Somehow she had ended up with the past-Ball prefect rounds, so she'd dragged herself into her robes, pinned her hair into its bunches, replaced her contacts with her glasses and started on a weary sweep of the castle, a weak Lumos werelight flickering at the tip of her wand.

She sent a few errant Fifth Years to bed. She caught a pair of Fourth Years talking near the dungeons. Anna groaned when she reached the bottom of the Astronomy Tower. She didn't want to climb all those stairs, nor did she want to deal with the load of hormonal teenagers undoubtedly snogging at the top of the tower. But Anna was a dutiful prefect, and she would do her job to her last living breath. After all, the next day was Saturday and she could sleep in for as long as she wanted. Anna eyed the spiraling stairwell grimly, gathered her robes in one hand and began the ascent. She was rather disappointed when the main observatory room was abandoned, but checked the classrooms just in case. The first three were empty, and Anna eyed the fourth door, sorely tempted to ignore it and return to her room. What energy would it take to open the door and check, though? She opened the door a crack and immediately noticed a hat and jacket. She pushed the door open slowly and saw a silhouette on the windowsill.

"Come down from there," she said, hoping she didn't startle the student.

He turned, and moonlight slanted across his face so she could only see his eyes.

Anna knew those eyes too well already.

Draco Malfoy.

He just looked at her.

Anna hoped desperately that he wouldn't recognize her. But his gray eyes remained dull and lifeless.

"Don't worry," he said. His voice was devoid of its usual arrogant drawl, and the ever-present smirk was gone. "I've entertained thoughts of killing myself for years, but I'm too cowardly to do it."

"Come down anyway," Anna said firmly.

Draco obeyed. His movements were slow and graceless. He looked as tired as she felt.

"Run along to bed now," Anna said.

He paused in picking up his hat and jacket, anger flaring dully in his eyes. "Who are you to patronize me and order me around?"

"A prefect," she answered coolly. "One who is unafraid of the Malfoy name. Now move along."

"A prefect?" Interest sparked in his eyes. He studied her badge. "Say, do you know any muggle-born Seventh Years?"

"I'm muggle-born. What is it to you? And don't you mean mudblood?" Anna immediately regretted the harshness of her tone, but Draco was unfazed.

"There was a girl at the Ball tonight. Muggle-born. Fantastic dancer. I was with her at the unmasking, but I didn't quite catch her name," he said, tone utterly casual.

"There are over one hundred girls in my year. Plenty of us are muggle-born. I don't know all of them." Anna pointed at the door. "Go. Now."

"Please. I want to find out who she is," Draco said, desperation creeping into his voice.

Anna felt guilt tug in her chest. "We don't always get what we want," she said, but there was none of the condescending sarcasm most employed with the cliché.

Draco turned to face her. "I need to find this girl." His gray eyes were wide, and he looked so terribly young.

"What is so wonderful about this girl that you need to find her?" Anna demanded. Then she threw her hands up in exasperation, making the werelight wobble dangerously at the end of her wand. "Wait a moment. I'm a prefect and you're a Third Year; why am I arguing with you? Get to bed!"

"I need her," Draco said fervently.

Anna fell back a step when he began stalking toward her slowly.

"Only she can give me what I need." Draco's eyes glittered, and he looked like a pale, sickly child in the moonlight.

"And what is it you need?" Anna challenged.

"Life," he said.

Anna somehow managed to hold onto her composure. "You look pretty alive to me."

He shook his head solemnly. "No. I truly am Harry Potter's antonym. He is dark where I am light, he is orphaned where I have parents and he is The Boy Who Lived while I am The Boy Who Died."

"Really? How does that work?" Anna didn't know why she was talking to him - the longer she was in his presence the greater the chance for recognition.

Draco tipped his head back, and Anna saw the tear tracks down his cheeks for the first time.

Horror curled through her. Had she hurt him that badly?

"You see, it is quite true that Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater."

Anna flinched at the nonchalance of his tone. "Perhaps you shouldn't be telling me this - "

Draco carried on speaking, oblivious to her words. He had to tell someone. "What no one knows is that he is the favored Death Eater. And do you know why?"

"Why?" Anna said automatically.

"Because he offered up the greatest sacrifice to the Dark Lord. A Death Eater must make a sacrifice beyond the pain of the Dark Mark if he or she wishes to gain additional power upon entering the Dark Lord's service." Draco smiled, a weary, whimsical expression. "It can be anything - money, magic, blood. My father offered up the greatest thing that a pureblood wizard can sacrifice - his firstborn son, and therefore all that the family owns." Draco turned his empty gaze back to the window. "Me. Originally - for my father did this before my birth - I was to be a Death Eater from the cradle, a commander of the new generation of followers. Of course, Harry Potter messed things up. The Dark Lord has no corporeal form, so when I come of age he will take mine. Draco Malfoy is not just a junior Death Eater, he is the future Dark Lord himself."

Anna was numb with shock. "You father did that? What - how?"
"Lucius Malfoy did that. I am everything I am because of him." He started for the door. "Nothing I have is my own. That's why I need to find her. She can help me make something of my own. Even if it's just a dance and a kiss."

Draco paused and looked at her. Suddenly he seemed an old man in a boy's body, miserably wise beyond his years. "Good night."

Anna stood rooted to the spot.

The Boy Who Died?