The Seers' Truth: A Broken Beginning

Chapter 23

Dangerous Draco Malfoy. . .and Friends

<<<===>>>

"I don't know how we'll get into Hufflepuff without the password," said Beatrice.

But Samara approached the door to Hufflepuff House with confidence. "Sunday," she said and the panel between the two suits of armor opened.

Sally Anne was busily painting The Wall. She had already animated Hagrid and he was smiling a friendly smile at them, but it seemed a little inane.

"I'm not sure what's wrong with him," said Sally. "He doesn't seem to have a life of his own. He just stands there and smiles."

"What spell did you use?" asked Beatrice.

"Innervate," said Sally Anne. "It should work, but maybe it's because he's so big. If that's the case, it's going to be even worse for the hippogrift."

"Maybe it's because the hippogrift is the only thing he's familiar with and it's not finished," suggested Samara.

"Maybe," said Sally Anne. "But there should be other creatures. I know Helga had a unicorn friend, so it should be here on the wall somewhere, but it's pretty shy."

"And they tend to show themselves for women more quickly than for men," said Samara.

"True," Sally Ann agreed.

"Perhaps 'Vividus' would be a stronger animator," suggested Samara.

"I could try it," said Sally Ann. "Maybe it would be best to just wait until the hippogrift is finished."

"His name is Buckbeak," said Beatrice. "I was telling Hermione Granger about your picture and she told me his name."

"Oh, that's even better," said Sally Anne. "I didn't know he had a name. I should probably call him by name as I'm painting. That will help to animate him too."

Samara and Beatrice started to go to the craft hall when someone entered the common room.

"Edward!" said Samara. "I didn't know you were visiting Hufflepuff too."

"Well," he said and he glanced at Sally Anne. "I guess I am. I was really looking for you-both of you. I'm glad I caught you before you got too far. Could we talk?" he added in a whisper.

Sally Anne had gone back to her painting and was not paying any attention to their conversation.

"What did you want?" asked Samara softly.

"I need your help. Yours too, Beatrice, if you want to come."

"What can we help you with?" asked Beatrice a little louder than either Samara or Edward.

"Anything I can do to help?" asked Sally Anne glancing up from her painting.

"Uh--I don't think so," said Edward uncertainly, but his eyes finally noticed The Wall behind Sally Anne. "Bloody Hell," he said. "Is that your mural? It's amazing!"

"Oh, no," said Sally Anne blushing, "and don't swear. I only have a very small part in it. The Wall depicts all of Hufflepuff's history from the beginning until the present."

"It's so-so-idealistic," said Edward. "I never thought such a place existed even in someone's imagination. It looks like a Hufflepuff's idea of utopia."

"Well, it's hardly idealistic," said Sally Anne. "There is a vampire in the forest who once saved a Hufflepuff's life, and Justin swears he heard a werewolf third year, but no one's heard it since so I think it was just a regular wolf. Several Hufflepuffs have had wolf Animagi. Wolves are very loyal creatures you know."

"So that's what the mural depicts?" asked Edward. "Hufflepuff loyalty?"

"Loyalty, perseverance, hard work. . . All the traits that are admired by Hufflepuff."

"I see," said Edward thoughtfully. "Well, it's very enlightening," he said. "Now, Samara, do you know if there is a place where we can talk privately for a moment?"

Samara asked Sally Anne who shrugged. By now, the common room was starting to fill with other Hufflepuffs. "Unless you can find an empty craft room, which is doubtful at this time of the morning," said Sally Anne. "Some of the Hufflepuffs ask for privacy in their own rooms at times, of course, but really no one will care if you talk here." She shrugged again.

Edward pushed Beatrice and Samara into a relatively quiet corner of the common room and pulled out his wand. He proceeded to put up a privacy shield charm with fast and flawless efficiency. When he was finished, Hufflepuffs naturally avoided that corner of the room, although they could see what appeared to be an empty area. They could hear nothing of the conversation about to take place. Apparently, even Sally Anne forgot they were there, because she went back to her painting.

"I need your help," repeated Edward. "I want my pet back and my brother won't let me have her."

"That's awful," said Samara with sympathy. "Did he take her from you?"

"Not exactly," said Edward. "But she's our pet together. We were supposed to share."

"Do Slytherins share?" asked Beatrice genuinely curious.

"Well, that's the problem," said Edward. "Ethan said if I wanted her back, I'd have to take her and today is the only day I'm allowed in the Slytherin dungeon. If I don't get her today, I'll have to wait until next weekend. He knows that, and he knows none of the Slytherins will help me. Draco is at Quidditch practice and Ethan is already gone. There's only Crabbe and Goyle in the room."

"Are we talking about stealing from the boy's dorm?" asked Samara.

"Yes, but really, I just need a diversion."

"What about the Ravenclaw boys who visited Slytherin yesterday?" asked Beatrice. "I really don't want to go into the boy's dorm."

"Oh, them," said Edward. "They just wanted to look around yesterday. Today, they're at Gryffindor. The whole thing was just an intellectual excursion to check out the other houses. They know they belong in Ravenclaw and they wouldn't be involved in what looked like a prank or possible rule-breaking." Edward looked thoroughly disgusted with the Ravenclaw boys who had visited.

"Okay," said Samara. "We'll do it."

"Wait!" squeaked Beatrice. "What kind of pet?"

"Um--Python," said Edward.

"Oh no," said Beatrice. "Count me out." Her nose was twitching and wiggling at the thought. "I don't like snakes. Professor McGonagall got me almost able to touch an owl, but not a snake."

"Well, it will be great practice for you then," said Samara. "What does Professor McGonagall do--"

Beatrice had turned very pale, and took several breaths from her puffer. Samara noticed it was the first time she had used it this morning. "I don't think I can do it," she said. "What if I turn into a rabbit and it eats me?"

"She's not hungry," said Edward. "I just fed her yesterday."

"Oh, what did you feed her?"

"Uh--snake food," said Edward.

"What if she decides to eat me just for the fun of it?" asked Beatrice.

"Oh, snakes are so misunderstood," said Edward. "They only eat when they are hungry. You should have been much more frightened yesterday. You were in Millicent's room, weren't you? Cats hunt for pleasure; snakes don't."

"Millicent has a cat?" asked Beatrice. "I didn't see it."

"Come on, Bea. We need you," said Samara. "It will be fun."

"I sincerely doubt it," answered Beatrice.

"I have an idea." Samara leaned close to Beatrice and suggested, "Maybe you can tell Vincent who is in the Hufflepuff common room," suggested Samara. "And you could tell him the password. I don't know, but I thought his friend was a little sad today. Maybe a visit would cheer her up, especially if Draco is at Quidditch practice and can't interfere."

"How about this for a plan," Samara told Edward. "We will distract the two boys and get them out of the room. Then you can get the snake."

"It's in a cage, isn't it?" asked Beatrice. "It isn't crawling about the room?"

"Well, yes," agreed Edward, "but I can't take the cage. I'd never be able to smuggle it out of the Slytherin Common room. Someone would see us. I can put the snake under my robes. She'll be quiet." As they left Hufflepuff, Edward paused. "I should have taken one of my brother's robes. It would have been easier if the Slytherins thought I was one of them."

"Would you like me to transfigure the crest?" asked Beatrice.

"I thought of that," said Edward, "But I'm not very good at inanimate objects."

With a wave of her wand, Beatrice said, "Viridorari Serpentis," and the red lion on his crest became a green snake, the emblem of Slytherin.

The walk through Slytherin was uneventful. Everyone seemed to think that Edward was Ethan and that it was perfectly natural that he would be walking with a girl on each arm. Come to think of it, Samara noted that Edward did that quite often in Gryffindor, but the girls were usually her and Ginny instead of her and Beatrice. He went directly to the boys' dorm. The door was open and Crabbe and Goyle were sitting on their beds eating chocolate frogs. They had a game of exploding snap going and soot and chocolate fingerprints were on the beds and the cards.

"Thought you were summ-" began Goyle, but Edward interrupted.

"Delay of plans, I wanted to know if you would give these lovely girls a tour of Slytherin since I am otherwise engaged."

"Delay--" said Goyle with an incredulous look on his face. "You're making Him WAIT?" Goyle's voice went up an octave with a mixture of fear and awe. "How do you-do you-"

"Shut up, Goyle," Edward said in exasperation. "And wipe the chocolate off of your face."

Goyle didn't even attempt to use a spell to clean himself up. He just used the bedspread.

"Draco's owl just came," Crabbe explained. "Brought candy. Chocolate frog?" Crabbe offered a rather squashed and melted frog to Beatrice.

"No thanks," she said. "But I know someone who would love a chocolate frog from you."

"Really?"

Beatrice, who had not actually entered the room, motioned Vincent Crabbe to the doorway where she stood. He practically flew to her, like a post owl, and Edward had to move out of his way, stepping into the room and closer to Samara. Unconsciously, she took another step closer to Edward and away from Gregory Goyle. How was she going to get him out of the room? She wondered. She should have taken the snake. It would have been easier, and certainly less disgusting.

Just then, an Alohomora spell split open the side of the dungeon wall and a thoroughly rushed and disheveled Draco swooped through the opening on his broom. "Forgot the new plays," he said to Goyle as he snatched up a parchment from one of the desks. Draco started to turn back toward the opening, which led into a corridor, when he realized who else was in his room. His broom ground to a halt, and his wand was in his hand and trained on Edward in one motion. Samara never even saw Draco reach for it.

Apparently neither did Edward because his hand hovered above his pocket, but Samara saw no wand. "Touch it and you'll lose a hand," sneered Draco. "And I doubt that our 'mutual friend' will see to its replacement--no matter how many 'gifts' you bring him. And I certainly won't."

"Draco," began Edward.

"Mutus! And I don't want to hear your excuses this time."

Draco moved closer with deadly purpose. "I thought that after our little talk about Pansy last night, you understood the consequences. I really didn't think you'd have the balls. Curtum!" a sharp downward snap of Draco's wand made Samara realize that Edward had just been cursed--that and the look of horror on Edward's face. Draco laughed. "You didn't believe me when I warned you that you would lose that little piece of your anatomy, did you Ethan? Well, let this be a lesson to you. I-never-make-idle-threats. Now, get out of MY room."

Edward glanced at Samara, uncertainly.

"Draco," she breathed.

"This is Slytherin business," Draco said coldly. "It does not concern you." Neither Draco's eyes nor his wand ever left Edward's body. With the same cold voice, he continued, "Get out NOW, Ethan, before I lose patience with you and decide to make you hurt."

Without touching his wand, Edward backed out of the door. Draco slammed it with a wave of his wand and Samara was aware of several wards going up.

Samara just let her eyes leave Draco long enough to realize that Beatrice and Vincent were long gone and apparently Greg Goyle had snuck out at some point during the confrontation. She was alone once again with Draco and she was not sure she knew who he was.

She was shaking and her heart was pounding; she understood Pansy's warning to Beatrice that Draco was dangerous. His aura was vivid blood red and was so turbulent it looked like molten lava. She remembered telling him when she had first met him that he didn't look like a dragon. She was so wrong. Nonetheless, he put his wand away and enfolded her gently in his arms. She stiffened.

Draco put his hand under her chin and lifted her face until she met his eyes. "He's frightened you," he said.

Samara couldn't bring herself to say that it was Draco who frightened her. Instead she asked softly, "What happened to Pansy?"

"Nothing. Just be glad that I had to come back for the Quidditch plays." He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "And my Quidditch team still awaits me. I have to go. As much as I'd like to stay here with you-" He swung his leg over his broom, and frowned. "Samara, why were you in this room with Goyle and Lestrange?"

In the split second of his hesitation, Samara thought of her answer-

++

She could say, "I was helping Edward steal his snake back from Ethan."

It would take several seconds before Draco realized that he had cursed the wrong twin. Then he would laugh. "Score for Slytherin!"

But even though Draco obviously didn't like Ethan, he wouldn't let a Gryffindor take his snake--

++

"I was looking for you," she said as she unloosened her clasp on her robe and pulled it loose. "I wanted to show you my tee-shirt." On it was printed: Dancing is an out of body experience.

He smiled a slow smile that chased away her fears. "That it is," he replied. "Meet me," he said. "After supper by the lake-"

She nodded and he turned his broom and flew out of the hole he had made earlier. The stone wall of the dungeon knit up behind him.

For a few seconds she looked at the blank stone wall. She was mercifully alone, and there was no reason why she shouldn't finish the job she had started.

She removed her robe and stood in her jean shorts and tee-shirt. Talking softly, she opened the door to the snake's cage. She was asleep. Samara stoked her cool scales before attempting to pick her up. "Hello, Sweet," she whispered. The snake stirred lazily from its sleep, and she picked it up. "Be still," she said. "I won't hurt you. Aren't you pretty? Edward will be so pleased to have you back." Still talking slowly and calmly, she started to wrap the snake over her shoulders but it was nervous and kept squirming away.

With slow and patient movements she finally managed to wrap it around her shoulder and around her waist. Cautiously, its tongue flicked in and out tasting her essence, learning who she was. Once it was sufficiently arranged, and quiet, Samara put her robe over it. The snake stirred anxiously. "SS-hh. Still. Sweetling." The snake calmed down in a moment and Samara was ready to go. Without disturbing Draco's wards she left his room and closed the door behind her.

Samara was only a few steps down the corridor when she heard whispered voices tight with anger. She slipped into an alcove and held her breath. The snake began to stir, reacting to her nervousness." AA-hh. SS-hh. Still. Sweetling," she whispered.

The owners of the voices appeared. It was Ethan and Pansy. He had Pansy's left arm at an awkward angle pulled up to the middle of her back. The sleeve was ripped and had fallen back to reveal several bruises on Pansy's sallow, but otherwise unmarked, skin. To Samara's eye, the arm looked broken or at least dislocated. In the same hand, Ethan also held a fistful of her hair.

His other hand held his wand. Samara noticed another wand sticking out of Ethan's pocket, presumably, Pansy's. Tears were coursing quietly down her bruised cheeks. But Pansy's disarray did not concern Samara as much as the condition of Ethan's aura. It was not just murky; it was opaque. It had holes similar to Edward's, but nestled in the blackness of the aura, the holes almost looked like relief. Jets of other colors shot across the darkness like angry, jagged lightening bolts. To look at it almost made Samara physically sick, and yet she still looked. She couldn't drag her eyes away. She didn't have to be a seer to realize that Ethan had some physical harm in mind for Pansy. She didn't know why or how--

Ethan said a word to open the door, but it remained closed. "That Bloody little ass did it again," he muttered as he kicked the door and then began to work to unlock the wards on his door. "I'm gonna kill him."

Samara didn't think it was an idle threat. She realized with a start that Ethan had killed before. Surely she was mistaken.

"That rich punk thinks he can lock me out of my own room!"

Pansy saw an opening and began to struggle, silently Muggle style, against his hold. Her knee came up hard, but he deflected it. Twisting, she managed to get her teeth on his arm and bit. She brought blood, and he released her, flinging her against the dungeon wall. With a klunk, her head smacked the wall, and he was upon her instantly.

The absolute rage contained in his aura scared Samara and she reacted on instinct, drawing heavily on the most powerful energy conveniently close: the air elemental surrounding him, which was contaminated with his hatred. Silently, she flung it back at him with what she hoped was enough force to put him down.

Ethan dropped like a rock, a cry of misery on his lips. Almost before he hit the ground, Pansy had Accioed her wand and was moving away, nursing her twisted arm. "Draco?" she whispered, but no one answered.

Samara watched in amazement as Ethan's aura started to clear to a murky gray.

"Where are you?" Pansy whispered anxiously to the empty air. She hesitated a moment before looking down at Ethan who was writhing and clutching the ground. She kicked him. And then kicked him again.

Samara wanted desperately to leave, but she couldn't without being seen. She pulled even further back into the alcove when she noticed another person coming, a billowing cape of black unfurled behind him: Snape.

"Pansy. Enough," he snapped.

"No, it's not," she snarled. "He--"

"I know," said Snape. He enfolded her in his arms in a shocking display of tenderness. "Lauren came and got me."

Pansy sobbed into his shoulder, and Samara wished to be anywhere but hidden a few feet away with an increasingly nervous snake wrapped around her. Its weight was starting to make her shoulder ache. She shuffled onto one foot and then the other, trying to see if it was possible for her to slip away. It didn't look like it.

Snape let go of Pansy, urging her to go to Madam Pomfrey, but she didn't move from his side.

"Sir," she said softly. "I'd rather not. This belongs in Slytherin House."

He nodded his agreement as he turned Ethan over to assess his injuries. The entire front of his robe was covered in blood. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth. Blood was seeping from under his fingernails. He had dropped into unconsciousness from the bleeding, but he was still twitching. "Bloody hell girl, what were you trying to do--kill him? Or just put yourself in Azkaban? Agmen Cogere!" Snape said to slow the bleeding and bent to check Ethan's vital signs.

"I didn't do it," said Pansy. "I sure as hell wanted to though. I thought maybe it was Draco, but--"

"Not Draco," assessed Snape. "Too messy. And he knows better. Draco's been protecting you from Ethan, then?"

Pansy nodded. "What spell was that? I don't think I've ever seen-"

Snape raised an eyebrow as he looked at Pansy. She froze mid-sentence. "Pansy," he said softly. "You've been in Slytherin for five years and you can't recognize the Cruciatus Curse?"

Samara gasped, and then covered her mouth against the sound. She couldn't have done that! She didn't--she didn't say the spell. It couldn't be--she hadn't meant to, not like that--she had drawn so quickly on his hatred and just flung it back at him. It was almost instinctual. Almost--but she was still responsible--Ohmygod, she could go to Azkaban!

"Are you sure?" asked Pansy.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Internal bleeding. Badly done, but still Cruciatus."

"I always thought that one seemed rather tame," said Pansy. "I've changed my mind."

"Don't judge by this," said Snape. "There should be no external blood. If the person who cast this was focused, he would have contained the bleeding within the body where it would have continued to cause additional pain without an external sign."

"I see," said Pansy.

"Of course, the fact that we see actual external bleeding was a mistake on the part of the caster. The whole objective of the Cruciatus Curse is to cause suffering without death--indeed, without any real physical harm."

They were turning this into a classroom lesson! Samara was horrified.

"Do you recognize the magic signature?" Pansy asked offhandedly. She seemed totally unconcerned about Ethan's condition.

Snape frowned. "I'm not sure, I believe I know--but it couldn't be--" He looked around, his black eyes searching. If Samara ever wanted to sink into the floor and disappear, now was the time. Unfortunately, she hadn't learned to Apparate yet.

Snape couldn't know she did that! He can't know. He can't. He can't. The snake wriggled furiously with Samara's nervousness. "S-h-h- be still," she whispered to it sharply.

Surely Snape wouldn't be able to tell. She had never thought that someone would be able to trace who did a certain spell. She didn't mean to be so brutal. . . she just wanted to stop him. It was an accident. No one would believe that, Samara realized, so she remained quiet and in hiding.

Although the snake had stopped wriggling, it was still heavy on her shoulder. She shifted it gently away from her neck.

"I didn't see anyone curse him," said Pansy. "I looked. It was like they were hidden or invisible."

"Well, there's not time to look for him now," he said. "And they're probably gone anyway. Ethan is going into shock from the blood loss and he is not worth your going to Azkaban. I can't do anything else for him here, I'm going to have to take him to Madam Pomfrey. Go to my office. I'll get you a potion when I return."

She nodded and started to turn away. "Miss Parkinson," Snape interrupted, at last seeing the awkward angle that she held her arm. "Is your arm broken?"

"I think so."

"Well, I can't remedy that with a potion, you idiot. You'll have to come with us to the infirmary. I'm not as inept as Lockhart with bones, but Madam Pomfrey will want to see you."

"I don't want to. Ethan is Draco's cousin. If I tell, I'll be in trouble at home, especially since my parents--agree with him," she added in a whisper.

Agree with him about what? Samara wondered, but Snape seemed to understand.

"I see," said Snape slowly. "I believe it is your choice, not your parents' choice."

"Sir?"

Snape did not repeat himself. Instead, he said shortly, "You'll want to fix you sleeve then, before we walk through the common room."

Pansy just stared at Snape.

"What did you do, by the way?" asked Snape as he bundled Ethan's robes around him.

Pansy still didn't answer.

"I assume Ethan had some reason for breaking your arm, your wand arm. Did he try to persuade you--"

"Do you think he needed a reason?" whispered Pansy.

"No, but did he have one?" asked Snape as he levitated Ethan.

Pansy's silent tears turned to sobs. "Everyone will know--"

Snape suddenly turned back into the person Samara knew. "Stop sniveling," he ordered. "No one will know unless you tell them! And fix your sleeve, now! Madam Pomfrey will not ask questions. Volunteer nothing. Say nothing to anyone about the other person who cursed Ethan. I will take care of that."

"I'm scared," Pansy whispered. "Ethan knows."

"I know he does," said Snape, "But it will be to your advantage to let the others think that you are capable of defending yourself without Mr. Malfoy's help. Especially since Ethan had your wand. He'll think twice before bothering you again, especially if he thinks you managed to send that curse without your wand." Snape's lips turned up in what Samara assumed was Snape's variation of a smile.

Pansy nodded. "Yes sir," she said.

They began to move out of earshot, and Samara couldn't hear Snape's answer. She only heard the sound of their voices, but couldn't distinguish the words.

As soon as Snape left with Pansy and Ethan, Samara sprinted in the other direction. She wanted nothing more than to get back to Gryffindor Tower as fast as possible. Once out of the dungeon, she slowed to a walk and tried to calm the snake under her robes.

She nearly ran into Edward as he approached Gryffindor Tower from Madam Pomfrey's.

"Samara!" cried Edward. "Are you alright?"

Samara wasn't sure if she would ever be all right again. "I think so," she managed. "What about you?"

"Oh. That." Edward brushed off her concern. "Actually, Draco's curse was rather tame. My brother's done the same curse with much less finesse. When he first learned it, he cursed me twice a day. I can't believe I didn't see a curse coming. A week away from my brother and already I'm getting slow. My own stupidity, I guess, and we didn't even get Kauket"

"Guess again," said Samara, reaching under her robe to reveal a small portion of snake scales.

"Oh Samara, you're wonderful!" said Edward, catching her in a quick hug, which Kauket didn't appreciate. Edward was laughing as they fell into the common room.

"That was quite an adventure, wasn't it?" said Edward.

"Yes," Samara answered flatly.

===

Samara sat on her bed and tried to analyze just what had happened today at Slytherin. She was scared and angry--scared she would get caught, scared for Pansy and angry that she had somehow gotten herself into that position. Her intent was to stop Ethan from hurting Pansy--no, that wasn't exactly right. Her intention was to hurt him, to get him out of the way so she didn't have to face him with his pet snake over her shoulder. But, of course, she was concerned for Pansy--not as much as she was concerned for herself, if she was honest--but concerned nonetheless.

She had purposefully pulled magic from a questionable source: the air elemental surrounding Ethan. Once again, she analyzed what she did. That wasn't right either. She could see Ethan's aura. She could see his magic. She knew he held the intent of a spell. She didn't know what spell though--she never would have thought it was Cruciatus. Still, she knew he meant physical harm to Pansy, but Cruciatus? He was reveling in it, and she still chose to pull from the contaminated air elemental, not a questionable source, but an unquestionably dark one.

So she began to summarize in her mind. A dark intent: to hurt. A dark source, plus her own anger. And she let that all run straight through her--wandless. She fell right into the trap so many Dark wizards and witches fell into and now she understood why they didn't stop--it felt powerful, like The Room. It was incredible to feel that power flow through her body. She could almost pretend that she could control it. It was the most exhilarating experience of her life and it was dark. And she didn't care. She would do it again in a heartbeat, just to feel the power.

Samara buried her head in the pillow and sobbed, "No. No. No." The wizards and witches who did this kind of magic lost their humanity.

Humanity is over-rated, she argued with herself.

A sob caught in her throat. She couldn't. She could go to Azkaban.

She found herself weighing whether it would be worth the risk--she hadn't gotten caught so far. Maybe just a few times she could feel it. If she was careful--

Samara was appalled at where this line of thinking was taking her. She had to stop. She understood what had happened. Intellectually, she understood, but that didn't make it any easier to reject.

She had sucked the darkness through herself, and she was like a straw that is dirtied by the contents sucked through it. Then she thrust it back at the spell's maker: Ethan. She hadn't expected it to hold itself together; she had expected a magical backlash of energy to knock Ethan out. But it hadn't happened that way.

The Cruciatus Curse. She found herself congratulating herself. She had held that spell together, not Ethan. It was awesome. She thrust the thoughts away. She had to purge herself of this dark magic--and yet, perhaps, she didn't need to do it just yet. Perhaps--

"Samara?" It was Ginny peering into the darkened room. "Are you coming down to supper?"

"Samara?" She moved over to the bed and put her hand on Samara's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"No."

"Are you sick?" asked Ginny.

"I must be."

Ginny sat on the edge of the bed. "Do you want me to bring you something from the Great Hall?"

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Samara," said Ginny. "What happened at Slytherin today?"

No answer.

"Was it Draco?"

"No." Samara hesitated. This should be secret, but she wasn't a secretive person.

"I've done something," Samara whispered. "Something bad."

"Can I help?" asked Ginny, sitting on the bed next to her.

Samara shook her head, still hiding her face in the pillow.

"Maybe you should talk to Dumbledore," suggested Ginny.

"No!"

Silence.

"I'd be expelled. At least."

Ginny sat silently on the bed for a while. "Dumbledore's pretty forgiving," said Ginny. "I doubt he'd expel you for a first offence."

Samara raised red, teary eyes to Ginny. "Even if it's an Unforgivable?"

"Samara?"

Samara lay her head back in the pillow and spoke the next words in a muffled, monotone voice, "Do you think it is possible to do an Unforgivable Curse unintentionally? Would anyone believe that?"

"Well, no, I don't think so," answered Ginny. "You raise your wand. You say the word or words. I don't think you can do it by accident."

"Wandless," said Samara.

Ginny sucked in her breath.

"And drawing on another's power," said Samara. "Reflecting it back--"

"Then the curse originated with the recipient," said Ginny. "We were just talking about that sort of thing in ADADA: reflective wards."

"Not a ward," corrected Samara, "A curse. But still, tell me, what did Professor Snape say about reflecting an Unforgivable Curse? Who is responsible?"

"He didn't say--I--" Ginny got up to look at her ADADA notes. "It just kind of cuts off," said Ginny. "That must have been when we went outside to draw power." Ginny frowned. "I remember, I was going to ask him--"

"Oh good," Samara interrupted. "Let me know what he says."

Ginny nodded.

"Come on. Come down to dinner."

Dinner was a tasteless affair. Samara played with the food on her plate while Ginny and Beatrice tried to engage her in conversation. After a while, she excused herself.

"I'll come with you," said Beatrice, but Ginny put her hand on Beatrice's arm.

"No. It's ok," said Samara shortly.

"Let her go," Ginny said. "I think she just needs some time to sort out her thoughts."

Beatrice sat back down with a worried glance at Samara.

===

It was a typical fall evening. The air was still warm, but a breeze was blowing that made the evening comfortably cool. There was a crisp smell of leaves in the air. As a child, she had always thought she could smell magic in the air in the autumn. Her parents had thought she had eaten too much Halloween candy. No one believed her. It was just one more reason she was different.

She had never wanted to be different. She felt the tears welling up again, stuffing her nose and threatening to spill out onto her face. Now at Hogwarts, that scent of magic was even stronger. She wondered, was it really possible to smell magic? Was it some other talent like her seeing auras? Or was she just a misfit? She didn't belong with the Muggles, she knew that. Now, she was beginning to feel like she didn't belong with the wizards either. Maybe she should ask Professor McGonagall--something--but what?

Her steps took her down by the lake. She didn't mean for them to. She wasn't sure she wanted to see Draco again right now. She considered retracing her steps. She didn't know what she felt about anything especially Draco, but when she looked toward the castle, she realized she was too late. Even at a distance she recognized the swagger that was Draco's and his pale blonde hair shown in the evening sun as he crossed the wide expanse of open land that separated the castle from the lake and the forest beyond. He still had his robe on, but it was open, billowing out behind him, revealing the shorts and shirt he wore beneath it. His tie was loosened and hanging around his neck.

She sat down at the water's edge and took off her shoes. She wanted to feel the grounding of the earth beneath her feet. She hoped it would calm her nerves. So far, nothing else had. After a few minutes of rubbing her feet against the Earth, she hiked up her robe and dipped her feet in the lake. There were a few other students scattered along the lake, some couples, some studying, but none of them were close to her and she felt like she had this little corner of the universe to herself. She leaned back against a tree and closed her eyes. The water was comfortably warm.

"Careful," warned Draco. "Something might take your toes off in that water."

"Hmm."

Draco settled himself beside her. "I'm serious," he said. "The giant squid, grindylows, merpeople, some large fish, and all sorts of nasty plants."

"Worried about me, are you?" she asked, opening her eyes and looking at him.

"No," he said holding her eye contact. "I think you can take care of yourself."

A splash of fear shot through her. What did he know? "Damn right," she answered, still holding his stare and daring him to look away first. He didn't. He held her gaze for another moment as a confident grin grew on his face. Then he bent and very softly, placed a kiss on her lips. Her eyes closed as she melted into it.

"Not fair," she murmured against his lips as he settled beside her and pulled her on to his lap.

"I never said I played fair," he whispered back as his lips trailed down her neck.

She just enjoyed the sensations without returning them. "Draco," she asked. "Why do you hate Harry Potter?"

"Oh, there's a question and a half," he joked, shifting his weight so that he could lean against the nearby tree. He pulled her up against him. "Do we have to talk about Potter?" he murmured against her ear. "I could think of better topics."

"I'm just trying to understand why he hates you so much. He won't talk to me about it."

"I tried to be his friend First Year," said Draco, his eyes narrowing with the memory. "I offered him my hand, and he wouldn't even touch it. He looked at me like I was scum. I told him some wizarding families are better than others, but he chose the Weasel--"

"The Weasel?"

"Ron Weasey. They're dirt poor."

"I like Ginny," said Samara. "I told you that."

"Yes," said Draco. "I saw what happened. I noticed Potter kicked you out of his little group. His loss. But Ginny stuck by you--Ginny's different though--"

"Why? Because she dated a Slytherin?"

"When?" said Draco surprised.

"She told me--never mind," said Samara. "They must have kept it pretty secret."

"Nothing happens in Slytherin that I don't know about," said Draco importantly, but Samara doubted he was that much in control of things in his house. Obviously, he didn't know about Ginny. She held his gaze for another moment wondering if Draco was still talking about Ginny, or was he referring to her own actions, earlier this afternoon.

"Anyway, they can't help it they are poor, can they?" asked Samara changing the subject.

"Sure they can--too many kids. Arthur and Molly needed to exercise a little self-control or learn to brew a contraceptive potion."

Samara felt a warm blush tingling her face and she was glad that, since she was sitting in Draco's lap, he could not see it.

"When you're that stupid," he continued, "you deserve to be poor. Plus, Arthur Weasley is a Muggle-lover, not that anything you would do for one of those would do him any good -financially or otherwise."

"Why is that?" asked Samara, trying to figure out just what Draco was talking about.

"Because the stinking little parasites are ruining the planet, that's why," said Draco, suddenly wrapping his arms around her and shifting away from the tree. He fell backwards against the cool grass, taking her with him.

With a little screech, she found herself sprawled out beside him, one of his warm legs pinning hers and his robes billowed out, half covering both of them. His mouth descended upon hers and conversation stopped.

For a moment he just kissed her. His lips were warm and wonderful, his tongue exploring her mouth. She pulled him closer and suddenly she was awash with Draco, his magic just cascaded over her filling her, setting every nerve ending afire. She felt like she was drowning in his magic. She panicked for just a moment and then realized she needed to release his magic from her. Once she realized what she needed to do, the magic completely overshadowed what he was doing with his tongue and lips. It even overshadowed all of today's worries. There was nothing but his magic. She felt like she could never get enough--

But suddenly, Draco stopped and held her at arm's length. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Wrong?" Samara echoed. She had just been kissed like she had never been kissed before. He exploded her world and he asked what's wrong? What could possibly be wrong?

"You kiss like a Muggle," he muttered against her hair.

"And you've kissed one of those?" asked Samara with a laugh in her voice.

"Ugh! Of course not. It's just an expression."

"And not a very kind one," said Samara.

"No. I guess not." He breathed in her hair and nibbled her neck making shivers go up and down her spine. Obviously, that was the closest to an apology she was going to get.

"Will you kiss me back, my precious?" he murmured between chaste kisses. "I want to taste your magic."

Samara considered as she played with the silky strands of his hair. She wasn't sure if she knew exactly how to let him feel her magic. She knew how to heal with it, but that wasn't what she wanted to do. However, she knew what she did want to do. So, intent is everything, she thought as she nestled closer to him and pulled a trickle of magic from herself. She let it flow tentatively through her fingers and cascade down his neck and shoulders. Another trickle as she rubbed her hands up and down his back. She wanted to be very careful not to over extend or lose control.

He sighed and pulled her close again. "I see I'm being rationed," he said. "Do you intend to torture me, or does it just come naturally," he murmured against her hair, before he opened the floodgates on his own magic and pulled her tightly into his magical embrace.

<<<===>>>