Snow Angels

My soul is evaporating
Won't you saturate me, won't you saturate me
Rain down on me with life
My soul is evaporating
Won't you saturate me, won't you saturate me
Storm around me, bring the tide

-Mandy Moore, "Saturate me."

Harry Potter was running toward the Great Hall, his breath going faster with each pace. He was well-hidden under his invisibility cloak, Hermione's Prefect badge pinned to his robes. He arrived faster than he had expected. There wasn't an Auror in sight, his wand was carefully hidden in his pocket and his watch blinked 9:55.
He looked anxiously around, waiting for Malfoy to appear from behind a corner as he let his cloak fall off his shoulders. He folded it and pocketed it.

"Nice technique. Very witty," drawled a voice from behind. Harry panicked and turned around. He sighed deeply as he saw Draco Malfoy hidden in the shadows of the big oak doors from the Great Hall. He frowned.
"You scared the crap out of me Malfoy," he said silently, and went closer toward the blond. "What do you want?"

Malfoy put on an amused grin on his face. He seemed utterly relaxed as usual, his gray eyes glinting. His face was rather red, because of the flames that had played across it earlier. When his grin disappeared, his sneer appeared back in place.
"A favor," he said sourly.
Harry laughed.
"You asking me a favor?" he snorted. "Want your Dark Mark wiped off your hand? Or a scar in the middle of your forehead?"
Draco rolled his eyes.
"Very funny, idiot. Now that your little comedy show is over, can we get back to why you're here?"
"Yeah, let's," said Harry, obviously annoyed.
"Good," answered Draco curtly, straightening himself up. "Now, you know Keiko Chang..." he said slowly.
Harry nodded uncertainly.
"Yeah..."
"Well...I want her transferred in Gryffindor," said Draco quickly.
Harry frowned.
"You had a night with her, and now she's not good anymore, is she?" he said, looking disgusted. He turned around to leave, but Malfoy pushed his wand in his back.
He stopped.
"Oh, great," said Harry sarcastically. "Shag me, why don't you," he muttered. "That's what you want, isn't it? You little perverted git."
"Shut up. Can't you just be serious for once? I'm trying to tell you something here."
"You love me, don't you?"
"I like girls Potter. Unlike you."
"I like girls too!" gasped Harry, his cheeks going pink.
"I've noticed," smiled Malfoy. "Good taste too. You got it for Chang, don't you?"
Harry sat down on the stone ground.
"Which one?" he asked, his eyes shining.
"Keiko."
"No."
Draco raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
"Sure...Look, just transfer her into Gryffindor. Do a re-do with McGonagall...Complain! You're good at that! Just -"
"I am not good at complaining!" said Harry squinting unpleasantly.
"That's not my point!" growled Draco.

It was the first time Harry had seen Draco desperate. He absolutely wanted something, and transferring Keiko into Gryffindor was it. But why?
"Why?" asked Harry before he could help himself.
Draco stood thinking for a moment.
"Don't you want her Potter? I'm doing you a favor and you're doing me one! Get her out of Slytherin!"
Harry frowned and got up off the ground.
"You're weird."
"So are you, Potter."
He reached out to shake Harry's hand, who was still sitting on the cold floor.
"You know," smiled Harry, "I never realized how big your eyes are."
Draco sighed.
"I never realized how small your brain was," he muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. So...Are you in?"
Harry shrugged.
"Yeh. Why not?"
He got up and shook Malfoy's hand.
"Nice doing business with you," grinned Draco, as Harry put on his invisibility cloak on.
"You too," whispered Harry. As Draco heard small silent footsteps leave the Hall, he turned around and moved toward the Slytherin Common Room.

**

"YOU WHAT?" shouted Ron the next morning, in the middle of the Common Room. "You offered - you said - you agreed - you - you -"
He paused for a moment, searching for a word to finish his phrase.
"WHY?" he finally said, a discouraged stare drawing itself on his face. "Why? You know Malfoy. He can't just do that to be nice and to give you what you want."
Harry nodded and threw himself on a chair.
"I guess," he shrugged, straightening his glasses. "Still..."

Hermione stepped into the room, her face very red; of anger.
"Uh oh."
Harry realized why she was mad; he had forgotten the badge pinned to his robes, and now she was looking all over the place for it.
Hermione never missed a thing. In fact, he had a hunch she was going to head toward him the moment she spotted him.
He was right.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she shouted, the moment she spotted him. "HOW COULD YOU?"
Harry shrugged apologetically.
""I needed it!" he said, defending himself.
"Well you could have asked!"
"You wouldn't have lent it to me!" growled Harry.
ermione sighed.
"Harry, what's wrong with you?" she asked softly, sitting down next to him. She stroke his hair gently.
"It's not me!" he said, suddenly sitting up. "It's all of you!"
Getting red in the face, Harry stormed out of the Common Room, throwing Hermione's badge on the floor angrily.

Ron scratched his head quizzically, staring blankly at the portrait hole.
"What's wrong with him?" he asked Hermione.
Hermione sighed and massaged her forehead, then picked up her Prefect badge.
"He has all the symptoms for what we call the disease of " - she sighed heavily - "love."
Ron's eyes started shining. He looked dreamily toward Hermione.
"I think I have it too," he muttered under his breath, staring longingly at his best friend.

**

Keiko woke up with a very heavy headache, for some reason. She stared at the watch next to her, which blinked 8:00 AM.
"Damn," she cursed, got dressed up quickly, and stormed down toward the Great Hall. She had slept with her hair wet, which made it wavy and messy.
She hurried toward her new friends, but got stopped by Professor McGonagall, who asked her to join her for...something...

Keiko couldn't do anything but agree, so she followed the Professor to a small classroom. It was empty.
For a wild moment, Keiko thought she was going to be expelled, but, then she saw the Sorting Hat standing on a desk. She frowned. She knew what was going to happen.
"Blaise will die," she thought wildly, as McGonagall explained that they were re-sorting her, rather cheerfully.

**

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted, making Keiko's ears ring. She felt hot pain in her throat and eyes, as she fought not to cry and come to kill Blaise.
He was the one who had said she was meant to be in Gryffindor. He was the one who said she was a pure Gryffindor. He was going to pay.

Professor McGonagall looked very happy as the hat decided what it had decided.
"Now," she said smiling, and put the Hat away. "Let me just change your robes," she said, still smiling widely. She waved her wand, and the Slytherin crest was changed for a Gryffindor one.
"Your bags will be moved to the Gryffindor dormitory," she explained. "Welcome to Gryffindor. Oh, and, Miss Chang," she added, as Keiko turned to leave.
"Yes, Professor?" she said silently, waiting patiently.
"Please do not tell any of the Gryffindors where the Slytherin Common Room is," she said, smiling weirdly.
Keiko nodded.
"Of course not Professor," she said, and left the classroom, toward the Slytherin table.

**

"OW! MERLIN! KEIKO - LET - GO - OF - ME!" gagged Blaise, as Keiko grabbed Blaise by his shirt, and pulling him towards her. She had never felt this much anger inside her, ever since Cho ripped the head of her favorite stuffed bunny, Mr.Giggles. She stared at Blaise with flashing eyes, her grip unusually tight.
"You're such a dirty little bastard, Zambini," she growled, pulling Blaise so hard by the collar, that his face had become purple.
"It was your idea, wasn't it?" she continued. "You never wanted me in Slytherin, did you? You're such a git! You should die right now."
She pushed him violently to the ground, and stood there, breathing loudly for a moment.
"It's not over yet Zambini," she whispered, as people started gathering themselves around her.
She left, her face really red, toward the Gryffindor Common Room.
She didn't want to talk to anyone. She didn't need anyone.

**

As Draco saw Keiko's attempt to murder Blaise, he burst into laughter. He knew it wasn't sane to laugh when one of your friends could end up somewhere higher or lower than Earth, beyond life, but it felt somewhat...refreshing.
He saw Keiko move away, a killing look on her face. He wanted to follow her, but mentally slapped himself, remembering she wasn't with him anymore.
"Hmm," he thought lazily. "Let's see if that scar on your forehead is indeed as charming as they claim."
He turned toward the Gryffindor table, and looked toward Harry, who seemed to have noticed Keiko's sudden departure. He looked toward Malfoy, and frowned, then ran toward the Gryffindor Common Room, to calm Keiko down.

**

"Can at least know why?" Keiko demanded, her face flushed, her big black eyes flashing. "I just want to know why, Harry!"
She threw herself in a squashy armchair and looked up at Harry's lost stare. He didn't seem it would be a good idea to tell Keiko what had really happened, but he didn't want Blaise to die in a few days either. He started pacing silently, trying to find the right words, while Keiko was still glaring evilly at him.
"Look," he said slowly, turning around to Keiko. "It was an order from me. I wanted you in Gryffindor."
Keiko blinked in disbelief.
"You..." she said blankly. "Why?" she repeated. "Couldn't you see I was fine on my own, and - "
"You're not for Slytherin Keiko," Harry explained, sitting down. "You just aren't."
Keiko shrugged and sank low in her chair.
"Why is he messing everything up?" she thought stubbornly, looking at Harry's brilliant green eyes. "He should have left me alone."
Harry stared innocently at the young witch, and forced a smile, which she didn't return.
"You could have told me," growled Keiko. "I mean, it was supposed to be my decision."
Harry nodded.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Would a walk make it up to you?"
Keiko frowned.
"No, I'm all right," she said softly, and got up. "I'll just go upstairs."
With that, she climbed up the spiral staircase, and disappeared behind the dormitory door.
Harry shook his head, and stared up at the ceiling, his face looking disappointed.
"Who am I kidding?" he muttered to himself, and got up, leaving the Common Room for the Great Hall.

**

"Would you concentrate, Draco?" growled Pansy, after Draco switched off in a daze for the fifth time that evening.
"Huh?" mumbled Draco thickly, looking up at her. "Yeah, I was listening," he answered quickly, looking at his papers.
Pansy frowned deeply, her blue eyes shining. It was unusual for Draco not to pay attention when she was tutoring him for Transfiguration, which was easily his worst subject. He seemed awfully distracted by something, and it seemed to bother the blonde, deeply. Trying not to get mad, she sighed, and tried to hide the small note of impatience in her voice.
"Then what was I saying?" she asked slowly, leaning her head against her hand.
Draco shrugged carelessly.
"Something about...mutated clowns?" he asked tentatively.
Pansy growled, and slapped her hands against the library table.
"I was talking about switching owls, Draco, for Merlin's sake, that's not even close to mutated clowns!"
She sighed heavily, and got up. "What's up with you?"
While she started clearing her books and notebooks from the table, Draco thought for a moment.

What was wrong with him? Was it Keiko's departure? The meeting he was going to have soon? The exam he was going to fail? Or was it Harry Potter, the person which seemed to bother him the most...
Looking up at Pansy, who had finished taking all of her things while he was pondering an answer, he shook his head blankly.
"I don't know," he answered, and got up, leaving the library before Pansy, who was looking shocked at him, as though he just slapped her violently.
"Draco Malfoy preoccupied?" she thought, staring at the library door. "This must be something serious."

**

Piano chords were to hear, and a low, fast breathing coming from the Great Hall. It had been playing for over an hour now, not even stopping, and changing songs every five minutes. Most of them were expressing a state of depression and anger, while the softer chords were hit, only sadness was lingering in the air.
The silhouette that was playing the songs was wearing a long, white cloak, its dark, long hair swinging back and forth.

Blaise was sitting at the very end of the Slytherin table, observing the figure struggling with the harder chords, an expression of amusement on his face. He had listened to its dramatic songs for a long time now, not knowing who the mysterious musician was. He got up slowly, and walked toward the front of the Hall, closer to the piano.
The music suddenly stopped, and the figure's fast breathing got louder. It turned around, to reveal its face to him.
Blaise remained speechless. The smooth oval face was framed by the soft dark hair, which fitted perfectly with the pair of beautiful eyes, and pale rose cheeks.
The person didn't speak, but just stared at him calmly.
Was it an angel? A vision? A ghost?
Before he could realize who it was, everything went dark, and Blaise woke up to the cold and humid atmosphere of his dormitory.

Everything was dark, so it was still night, since no sign a thin, pinkish light was making the green drapes of the four-poster beds shine. Blaise blinked confusedly, and fell right back asleep, ignoring the shadow of Draco, who seemed to be reading something, and thinking intensely.

**

Draco gave a small gasp at the sudden movement coming from Blaise's bed. He looked over, and spotted Blaise opening the curtains and staring toward the window. Giving a sigh of relief, he returned to his lecture/writing of his agenda. He stared down at the small picture of a black haired girl, and stroke it gently. His face seemed unbelievably calm, but his eyes showed mixed feelings, which seemed to include sadness, and emptiness. On the back of the picture was a small paragraph with tidy handwriting.
"I thought you might have wanted it, since it might bring up some memories...Depending of which you want to remember...
I hope you'll never forget me, since I'll never forget you.
We'll meet again someday, and I promise that.
I love you...
Yours forever,
Alana."

The memories of long summer evenings spent on a forgotten tire swing in a field of an old farmer came swimming back into Draco's mind. The long, hot days spent under the shady willow trees, just talking about whatever, and laughing to let the time pass by. The first Christmas they spent together, when she had turned thirteen, hiding from his father, and walking under the mistletoe numerous times, "accidentally," just to get a small, sweet kiss.
The last day he had seen her, when she had gotten killed. He could still remember her cold, immobile face, as her family had sent her casket back to London, for she had been drowned.

Draco had always been evil; but when he had heard what had happened to his beloved, and heard that his father was behind all this, he swore not to become like him.
Ever.
But the times have changed, and now that Voldemort had climbed all the way to the surface, there was short time before he was going to climb all the way to the top again. Draco had no choice but to go over to the dark side, and let out all the hatred and sadness he had felt over the years. His father, his family, Lord Voldemort, and especially Harry Potter.
He had always been jealous of what Harry had, even though he knew it was far from perfect, yet so very close. All what Draco was living was pure hell.

Turning the page, he found a thick pack of letters, bearing the same handwriting. Closing his eyes, he turned the page, covering the letters. He didn't want to remember anything anymore. The proper cure for him, he mused, was a complete and good Memory Charm. It would have put all of his suffering to an end, in a less painful way, then what was waiting for him.

Blaise moved yet again, and woke up, opening the drapes of his four-poster. Quickly, Draco stuffed the booklet under his pillow and straightened himself up, as the drapes opened.

"What´s wrong with you?" the boy asked, looking around for something.
Draco didn't respond. He just shrugged, and got up, walked past Blaise, and left the dormitory, a dark cloak hanging from his shoulders. He slammed the door loudly, and stormed down the stairs, ignoring the puzzled looks of two sixth years, who were cuddling by the fire. He left the Common Room, and walked barefooted over the cold stone floors.
He didn't care if his feet were going to freeze. He didn't care if Filch or whoever was going to spot him. He just needed to breathe. The castle was getting stuffy.

He walked all the way to the grounds, which were covered in autumn leaves. He walked across the grass, his pace quickening. The dark forest was where he wanted to find himself in, and that's where he was going.
As someone behind him called his name, he didn't even turn. He just wanted to leave his whole life behind. The voice called him again. This time he stopped.
"Can't I just be alone?" he shouted, turning around.
Facing him was Pansy Parkinson, her face all red, a thick cloak in her hands.
"Here," she panted, throwing the cloak, which Draco caught quickly. "Thought you might need it."
Draco sneered slightly.
"Do you follow me everywhere?" he asked, throwing the cloak back at her. "I don't need your friendly gestures."
Pansy snorted and threw the cloak back at him. She loved getting Draco mad. He looked really handsome when he was all red of anger.
"I figured there was something wrong," she said shrugging. "Mind sharing?"
Draco wrapped the cloak around his shoulders and shook his head.
"Like I'm going to tell you," he thought savagely.
"No," he said flatly. "But I could use some help with suicide."
Pansy gave a gasp of mock shock.
"Oh, no! Really?"
Draco rolled his eyes. He knew she was going to act that way. He knew he wasn't going to get rid of her.
"I could use some help," he said, smiling slightly.
"I would love to help," she grinned, and followed him in silence, moving deeper into the forest.