The Fall In

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

The thick wooden door to the Potions room slammed with a loud bang. The class quickly turned their heads away from Snape and focused their attention at the door. A girl with bright blue eyes and long silky silver hair was propped against the door. One of her small hands on the knob, the other supporting a large collection of books, she gasped for breath. She obviously was in a hurry to get to the class, and she had reason to. Snape was standing in front of the blackboard, writing furiously when he heard the door slam. Without turning around, he snarled. "You're late. This class began ten minutes ago." He turned around, slowly moving toward the girl and examining her. "There is no excuse to miss Potions class. It is not a good start." Snape's thin mouth curved into a smug smirk. He enjoyed alarming the students, and the girl was frightened. She was positioned wide-eyed at the threshold of the room, her knees shaking slightly. She wasn't prepared for such the 'warm' welcoming.

"I'm sorry, Professor. It's my first day. I got lost," she stated nervously. It felt as though her books had just doubled their weight in her arm. She quickly supported them with a firm grip from both hands.

"Ah, you must be the transfer student from the Salem Institute in the states," Snape said, his voice losing it's edge. He now seemed polite - well, as polite as possible. "You were sorted into Slytherin," he declared. The girl nodded slightly. Snape grinned at her through small beetle-like eyes. "Destinee Magus, is it? I am Professor Snape. Well, since you are new, after all, you are excused for your tardiness. You may take a seat next to Malfoy. He'll show you what to do." Snape gestured Destinee to where Malfoy was sitting, and then he returned to the board.

Destinee walked cautiously toward where Malfoy was sitting at the front of the gloomy, chilly dungeon classroom. She could hear low whispers coming from the class as she pulled the chair from under the table, and sat down on Malfoy's left. She abruptly dropped her books on the table. A deafening noise chimed as the weight of her books collided with the desk. Irritated, Malfoy snapped his head back in the direction of the distraction. Destinee could sense his eyes burning her neck, and she promptly turned her head towards him. "Who are you?" he asked in his cold, drawling voice. He obviously hadn't heard what Snape had said.

"Destinee Magus," she replied dully. She studied Malfoy, his perfectly slicked back platinum hair, his gray eyes. His gray eyes. She had seen them somewhere before. They were not a common gray. They looked like a squall within him, she thought. The storm left his eyes vacant and deemed to express no sentiment. Or, perhaps, he plainly had no sentiment.

"What are you staring at, Magus?" he asked. Destinee was awoken from her gaze, and was surprised that he had learned to use her name; despite the tone in which he'd used it. Destinee realized that she was, in fact, gawking, and quickly turned away. She could feel herself grow scarlet like the mercury within a thermometer as Draco began to chortle.

Snape turned around and glanced at Malfoy with his coal-like eyes. He slowly placed the chalk down, and walked in front of the class. He perched on the front of the counter like a vulture, his eyes scanning the classroom looking for prey. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm glad that you find Potions class so amusing," Snape snarled as his lip curled. Malfoy abruptly stopped laughing as Destinee smiled vaguely. "Now," started Snape, his black velvet arms crossed upon his chest. "Can anyone identify the ingredients that are used in a Lengthening Potion?"

Immediately, Hermione Granger's hand shot up. Destinee glanced over at her and glowered. Destinee was so adjusted to being the only one to know answers in her class, that she took Hermione's knowledge as a personal insult. Snape clearly overlooked Hermione's hand. She was squirming in her seat, fluttering her hand in the air, and looking absurd. Destinee quickly raised her hand in response. Snape's gaze fixed on her, and his lip curled again. "Yes, Magus?" Snape noticeably emphasized her last name so that Granger would hear. Hermione looked over at Destinee and dropped her hand limply to her side, crestfallen. Destinee stared back at Granger and smiled smugly. She had already grown to detest her.

"There are three ingredients in a Lengthening Potion," Destinee began assertively. "They are: a Spiny-Sided Shrew Tail, which are known for their ability to cure nausea," she said as she ticked off her fingers. "Then there are the snake fangs, which are typically used to increase the duration in which a potion is active. The last ingredient is a troll hair, which is known for its ability to lengthen objects to almost twice their normal size," she finished smugly and crossed her arms across her chest.

Malfoy reclined in his chair, and propped his lanky legs on the table. It was as if his newly polished, expensive dragon-hide boots practically advertised themselves. "Just my luck," he began as the words rolled of his tongue, "Granger's multiplying."

Hermione shot Malfoy a glare, but he hadn't- or pretended- not to see it. Destinee glanced backwards at Draco, and glared at him as well. He obnoxiously waved at her, and she turned back with a huff. "Now," Snape stated, ignoring Draco. "You will work with your partner on creating a Lengthening Potion." Snape glanced spitefully at Neville Longbottom, who suddenly slithered back into his chair. "And Longbottom, if you mess this one up..." He didn't conclude his sentence and rather allowed Neville's imagination to assume what would happen. Neville shuttered and sank even lower in his seat so that his eyes were hardly visible from behind the desk. Snape gazed over the classroom again. "Any questions?" he asked in a way that dared any student to ask one. Despite his tone, Harry Potter raised his hand. Snape narrowed his eyes into black slits within his ghost-like face. "Yes, Potter?" he asked callously.

"Professor, who exactly are we," he hesitated slightly, "to test the potion on?" Harry asked in a half-worried tone.

Snape's eyes narrowed even farther as he brought his face into a lingering smirk. He seemed as though he were waiting for him to inquire this question. He took his time to construct the drama of his reply. "Each other, of course," Snape stated finally, as if this had been the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry peeked apprehensively at Hermione who sat to his left. Her eyes, however, were full of buoyancy. "The potion is rather easy, Harry. I can make it for you, if you'd like."

"Potter does not need you help, Granger," Snape snapped. He lowered his tone and turned to Harry." Do you, Potter?" Snape inquired.

If Harry had said 'yes' then this would undeniably give Snape the opportunity he had been waiting for. He would debase Harry for not being able to perform such a simple potion. However, if Harry had said 'no', he would most likely have to go to the infirmary in a matchbox. Harry shook his head feebly. "No, Professor."

Snape glimpsed about the room. "Well, what are you waiting for? Find a partner!" he demanded. Everyone in the class seemed to bounce out of their seats to immediately rearrange themselves with their new partner. Harry had decided that Hermione would be his partner, since he really did need her help. He glanced behind him at Ron, who had already seemed perfectly satisfied with having Parvati Patil as his partner. She wore her brown hair in a tight bun with a pin striking the center of it. She was sitting exceedingly close to Ron, batting her eyelashes at him, and laughing at everything he said- even if it wasn't intended to be humorous. Hermione twisted around, too, and rolled her eyes in repulsion. Ron looked up at Harry and Hermione and beamed as he waved at them both. Hermione sighed and turned back in her seat, and Harry did the same.

"I can't believe Ron's going out with Parvati," Harry said shaking his head incredulity.

"Parvati isn't all that bad. She gossips a lot, but besides that, she's nice," Hermione rejoined.

Harry shook his head again. "No, not that. I meant, how did he end up with her?" he asked in awe. Hermione sighed severely, shook her head, and muttered something that sounded like "men" under her breath. "How did they even start going out? Didn't he go to the Yule Ball with Padma?" Harry asked, curiously.

"He accidentally kissed Parvati, because he thought she was Padma. Padma found out and broke up with him. Later on, he went out with Parvati," Hermione said in such a way that Harry knew there was no point in continuing the conversation.

Draco turned around to Crabbe who was engaged in stuffing his mouth full of pastries he had stowed away in his pocket. "Crabbe, you're my partner," he stated as if his word was the final one. Draco habitually had this type of stance towards everyone he met. He saw himself as superior to everyone else since he was a Malfoy. After all, Malfoys were one of the most highly respected names in the wizarding world- even if the respect came from trepidation. He had become so well adjusted to taking charge and ridiculing everyone that it had come naturally. He never learned to take rejection well, and he was never accustomed to being second best. That is, of course, until he met that Potter.

Crabbe stopped eating and strained to swallow while almost choking on the amount of food he had crammed inside his mouth. He swallowed again but it seemed to be more because he was uneasy rather then because of the provisions. He nodded his head feebly in the direction of Goyle who sat to his left. Draco glanced over at Goyle, who hastily turned away from him, unable to make eye contact. Draco glowered darkly at both of them, and then turned back in his seat. When did they assume that they could do anything without me, Draco thought crossly to himself. I'm the one who bloody decides who my partner is going to be, not them. Draco grew angrier as he thought about their rebellion.

Destinee craned her head and looked at Draco. He glanced at her, met her eyes, and then quickly turned away. He narrowed his eyes slightly, and folded his arms across his chest. "I guess I'm working with you, Magus," he assumed harshly, still not looking at her. Destinee glanced over at him and then turned to face Snape who now stood behind his desk at the front of the classroom. Located before him were the snake fangs, spiny-sided shrew tails, and a troll hair. Next to these resided a bulky, black, bubbling cauldron. A thick, vivid green liquid sat inside the cauldron and flowed slowly down the side of it, creating small puddles of green like pokadots on Snape's desk. Smoke and fog floated lazily over the steaming broth.

Snape bowed forward on the desk, and began to talk monotonously. "First of all, you must remember that if you add the ingredients in the incorrect order, the potion will backfire and you will shrink until you are nothing." He glanced at Neville who edged away from the cauldron slowly. Snape smirked smugly, and then continued. "First you add the shrew tail," he said as he pinched the tail off from the table before him and tossed it into the cauldron. "Then, you add the snake fangs," he said as he did so. He picked up the troll hair in his hand. "Finally, when the concoction turns from it's original bright green to a blue, add the troll hair. Only when it turns blue, otherwise, the results could be," Snape paused and looked over the room. His face broke into another ominous smile," deadly," he added smoothly as the class gasped on cue. He turned to peer into the cauldron at the now-blue liquid within his cauldron and dropped the troll hair into it. A sudden plume of red smoke rocketed out from the broth. "Red smoke," said Snape as he watched the smoke fade, "indicates that the potion was created successfully. Any other color, and you certainly did something wrong," he said glancing over at Neville again. He grew quite fond of seeing Longbottom squirm within his seat. In fact, it was what Snape looked most forward to throughout the day. Neville looked nervously from Snape to Seamus Finnigan who got stuck with being Neville's partner. Seamus turned to Neville, and upon seeing his panic, rolled his eyes. "Be sure not to spill any," Snape added as an afterthought. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Snape asked impatiently. He looked at the rest of the class, and they stared inattentively back at him. "Go!" he demanded sharply. The class leapt in their seats simultaneously, and began hurriedly to create the potion.

Harry absently lifted the snake fangs in his hand, and began to place them in the cauldron. Hermione quickly seized his hand and removed the fangs from his clutch. "Harry!" she shouted as she put the fangs down on the table. "Weren't you paying attention? Shrew tails then snake fangs."

"My mistake," he stated obviously not caring.

She quickly placed the tail in Harry's hand, and directed his hand over the cauldron.

"Don't drop them from too high up, or it'll splash," Hermione warned. Harry rolled his eyes, released his clutch, and the tail fell in with a soft plop. He quickly seized the snake fangs next, and hovered his hand above the cauldron. Hermione looked at him warningly.

"I can do it myself, Hermione. I'm a big boy," he said as he carelessly plopped the snake fangs into the cauldron. She narrowed her eyes but didn't say anything. Next, he grabbed the troll hair from the table and waited for the liquid to turn blue. The potion slowly transferred into a turquoise, and then into a sapphire. He looked up at Hermione, and she nodded at her. Harry let the hair fall into the potion, and waited for the plume of smoke to form. Immediately, the smoke rocketed up from the cauldron, and Hermione gawked at it. "Hermione, perhaps I'm color blind as well as blind, but was that smoke," he hesitated and continued in a whisper, "yellow?" Hermione nodded weakly at Harry, but he was staring at the spot where the smoke had melted away.

Suddenly, the table began to tremble uncontrollably. The potion began to splash scruffily all over the table. Hermione quickly looked at Harry for some reassurance, but he was just as perplexed as she was- if not more. The table began to convulse even more rapidly. Harry stared at Hermione, and Hermione stared back, dumfounded.

"What did you do?" Ron suddenly shot up from his seat and screamed over the din of the tremors from the shivering pot. Parvati was clutching Ron's shirt in a death-grip as she stared wide-eyed at the cauldron. The color in Hermione's face faded away like the yellow smoke had.

Harry looked over at the pot, and shook his head. "It was blue when we added the hair, right?" Harry asked weakly. Hermione didn't respond because now even she didn't have an answer.

"Potter! Granger!" Snape bellowed as the tremors grew louder. He hurried over to their table and glared into the cauldron. "What did you do?" he demanded, his voice so sharp it could cut steel.

Suddenly, the floor began to tremble as well. Hermione looked down and saw her legs shaking rapidly. Whether the shaking was from the tremors rippling through her body, or for fear, she didn't know. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut as Hermione seized his hand and ran toward the back of the classroom.

~*~*~*~*~*

Draco leaned lazily back in his chair. He placed his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes contentedly. Destinee twisted in her seat to look at him. "Aren't you going to help?"

Draco opened one eye and stared at her. "Nah, I have faith in you," he said as he waved his hand, dismissively. He closed his eyes again, and smirked. Destinee frowned at him, turned back to her cauldron, and grunted loudly. She seized the dragon fang in her hand, and was about to put it in the pot, but quickly pulled her hand back. In her right hand, she pinched the tail and examined it. She ogled, quizzically, at the tail in one hand, then at the fang in her other. She raised an eyebrow and turned to face Draco again. Draco had his eyes open and had seemingly been watching her. "Yes, my dear?" he asked.

Destinee ignored his pretense. "Which comes first?" she asked harshly.

After what looked like mock-contemplation, he concluded. "I've always thought the egg came first, because where would you put the chicken?"

Destinee was obviously not amused, and shoved the fang and tail in his face. "Tail or fang?" she clarified.

Draco moved his head back so that they were no longer an inch from his face, and observed them. "Tail."

Destinee withdrew her hands and turned back to her cauldron where she threw the tail in. "Or maybe it was the fang," Draco added belatedly. Destinee closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She swiftly threw the fang in and idly waited for the broth to transition into a blue. Draco twisted his head so that he could see what Potter was doing. He observed as Hermione steered his every movement like an overbearing mother. "Stupid mudblood," Draco mumbled under his breath.

"What'd you say?" Destinee asked as she stood up and leaned over the cauldron, still waiting for the potion to transform color. Draco pressed himself off from the table behind him, and sat normally again. He had a clear shot of Destinee's rear and he smirked. He bent forward, and cupped his head on his hand. He watched as Destinee clumsily felt the table for the stirring rod, while still watching the broth intently, as if it would begin to sing and dance. She finally grasped the rod and began to stir the potion until it slowly transitioned into a teal color.

"I said that if this potion really does double the length of objects," Draco began in an amused tone, "then I'll be 9 inches larger in length," he added as he held back his laughter. Destinee immediately dropped her rod in shock, and sat back in her chair. She knew that Draco wasn't talking about his height. She looked at Draco and smiled beside herself. She quickly turned back to the potion and noticed that it had changed into a deep blue hue. She grasped the troll hair firmly in her hand, and let it fall like a feather into the potion. A large red cloud shot out from the potion, and she looked at it contentedly. Draco's eyes followed the cloud as well. "What would you do without me?" he asked, his gray eyes bright with amusement. Destinee shook her head and noticed Snape strolling towards her.

"Already you have proven yourself, Magus. Ten points to Slytherin." Destinee watched him as he twisted on his heels and walked casually back to his seat. Destinee turned to Draco who was occupied with observing Hermione and Harry. She followed his stare and watched as Harry carefully dropped the troll hair into the potion, and looked over at Hermione who smiled smugly at him.

"Merlin, she has to be perfect, doesn't she?" Draco thought aloud. From what Destinee observed of Hermione, she agreed yet she decided to say nothing. I wish she would mess the potion up. That'll show her not to be so bloody smug. Draco thought to himself.

As if on cue, Draco watched as a plume of yellow smoke puffed out from Hermione's cauldron. "Looks like she's not so perfect, after all," Draco spoke to no one in particular. Destinee was taken by spooning the potion into a small plastic cup for her and Draco to drink, when she heard him speak. She quickly turned to face Hermione and saw the yellow smoke fade. She dropped the small wooden spoon in the potion, and it disappeared within the liquid. However, she took no notice of it as she was so transfixed on where the smoke had just faded. It seemed like everyone else was, as well. Draco stared at the smoke and smiled genuinely.

Abruptly, Hermione and Harry's potion began to shake rapidly. Startled, Destinee dropped the potion on the table, and it spilled across the table unkemptly. Draco's smirk soon faded and was replaced by a feeling of numb awareness. He watched as the trembles from the cauldron spread like wildfire to the floor below. Snape rushed up to Harry and Hermione and began to shout at them. However, his voice was muted by the noise of the quivering room. Books began to fall from their abode on the shelves to the floor far below. Glass bottles filled with foreign liquids crashed toward the ground in a storm of glass and colorful rain.

Draco pushed his chair away from the table, causing it to crash to the ground behind him. He quickly stood up, turned to Destinee and leaned forward. Pressing his lips to her ear, he spoke loudly, "Come on!"

Destinee, startled, jumped up from her seat and followed Draco. She clumsily tripped over books that had fallen to the ground, and narrowly missed getting pegged in the head with a glass of something that resembled bat wings inside. Pansy Parkinson was so frightened that she accidentally knocked over her cauldron as she tried to jump on the table, as if the table would provide her protection from the earthquake within the room. Her lengthening potion spilled rapidly over the table, ran down the side like a waterfall, and created a large puddle of rich cobalt on the floor. Destinee came nearly sprinting across the room, and realized the puddle only too late. Hurriedly, she leapt forward to avoid falling on the potion, and, instead, fell into Draco. Draco stumbled slightly and turned on her. "Now is not the bloody time! You'll have to wait until we get to our common room," Draco shouted over the disturbance of the room. Despite all that happened, his face still held that persistent smirk. He quickly grabbed Destinee's wrist and led her out of the room.

Once outside, Draco let go of his grip on her wrist, and Destinee fell back to the floor, panting. She grasped her wrist with her hand. It ached where Draco's fingers lay upon her. She saw a red ghost of where his clutch was begin to form on her wrist. She knew that she would have a rather large bruise in the morning, but at least he got her out safely. Draco leaned on the stone wall adjacent to her. He had his hands in his pocket and was looking down at her. She met his eyes and their eyes locked for a moment, a swirl of gray and blue, like a storm that had ended and the blue sky was swimming back into view. The storm Destinee first saw in Draco's eyes, however, remained within them. "We're alone," Draco stated, interrupting the silence between them.

Destinee looked down the hall they were in, and observed that he was right. They were alone. Destinee stood up, still grasping her wrist within her hand. "And?"

"We can do what you were so anxious to do back there." He nodded with his head to the door next to him. The door was closed tight, but the faint screams from the students within it and the clamor of the vibrations were still audible.

Destinee placed her arms across her chest, and looked at Draco. "You're unbelievable," she said shaking her head.

"A guy can try, can't he?"

*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione frantically ran to the back of the classroom, pulling Harry behind her. Despite the weight that she was pulling, she was moving quite quickly. Harry thought it was unnecessary for her to drag him, because he would have been able to manage without her yanking viciously on his arm, but he decided not to say anything. She seemed to be enjoying taking charge of Harry, and so he let her be. Hermione led Harry around puddles that looked like blue jewels upon the glassy floor, and avoided the rainstorm of books and glass. She finally reached the rear of the classroom, and turned back for the first time to see what was happening. Snape held out his wand and began to mumble incantations under his breath. He swiftly sidestepped a book that seemed to have thrown itself at him. Students all around the room were screaming and ducking under desks. They must've lost their common sense, Harry thought to himself. Hermione seemed to have read his mind, and turned to look at him. "Wouldn't it make more sense to leave, rather than scream like banshees under their tables?"

Harry shrugged and shook his head still looking over the disaster that he had created. He noticed that Ron and Parvati were cautiously making their way to the back of the room. Ron ducked as a spell went zooming dangerously overhead. He turned and glared at Neville who held his wand in the air, shaking in shock. Ron stood next to Harry, and grasped Parvati's hand. Her once delicate hair wrapped within a bun was now sticking out sloppily and fell to her face. She wore a face of horror and disbelief. Ron frowned at him. "What did you do, Harry?" he cried, his voice an octave higher than usual.

Hermione turned away from the three of them and opened the door. The small group watched her open the door, but didn't move. She began to walk through the door and paused, circling on them. "Aren't you guys coming?"

Harry nodded at Hermione, and followed her out the door. Harry was followed closely behind with Ron and Parvati. The group exited the room, and Parvati closed the door quietly behind her. She let out a sudden gasp when she noticed that she and the other Gryffindors were not alone.

Draco rounded on the group like a savage animal. He narrowed his eyes into small gray slits like a snake. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice cruel and cold. Destinee shivered as he spoke, as though the cold from his voice was tangible.

"The same reason you're here, Malfoy," Harry replied as he returned the glare. He attempted but his voice could not reach the same temperature as Draco's.

"So you're here to snog with Magus, as well?" he questioned, his voice full of callous amusement. Destinee gasped in shock and turned scarlet. "Sorry, Potter. I'm not up for threesomes."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't think of a sharp remark, and snapped his mouth shut again. He walked to the opposite wall, as far away from Draco as possible and leaned against it. His eyes focused on Draco, and just the sight of him irritated Harry. Draco closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the wall. Parvati instantly broke into a large bout of giggles. Ron turned to her with a bewildered look on his face. She hid behind her hand, and tried to stop her snigger, but it wasn't effective. Ron knew that she was giddy about Draco. He knew about how almost all the girls felt about Draco. He noticed how they giggled just like Parvati did whenever he walked past one of them as though he had cast a spell on them. Ron turned and examined Draco. He didn't know what they all saw in him. He may be good-looking, but- Ron broke off his thoughts. What was he thinking? Draco being good-looking? Ron shivered slightly and shook his head as to free the thought from his mind. I need a long, cold shower, Ron recollected as he thought about what he had just said about Draco.

Hermione joined Harry over at the far corner of the wall, and was talking animatedly to him. "What on earth happened back there?" she asked Harry, although she knew he had no answer.

Harry shook his head. "I have no idea, Hermione," he replied listlessly.

Hermione obviously couldn't relent, and she began badgering him until he spoke. "Was it the troll hair? Maybe it wasn't a troll hair," Hermione thought aloud.

"Could be," Harry replied absently. Hermione lowered her eyebrows, and bit her lip, like she always did when she was thinking hard. Harry cocked his head and looked at her. He smiled vaguely. He had always thought that Hermione looked attractive when she did that. She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the Potions door swinging open.

"Potter! Granger!" a voice shouted from the threshold. Snape stood within the doorway, his voice trembling with fury. Harry had expected to see him turn purple with rage, but thought it was impossible for Snape to be any color except ghost-white. Snape slowly turned his gaze to encompass the entire hallway, and noticed that there were others there as well. His eyes stopped on Malfoy who stood directly to his right. "Malfoy," he began and then glanced at Destinee, Ron, Parvati, Hermione, and Harry, respectively. "You all better return to the classroom. The bell should ring soon." He turned swiftly and left the hallway, leaving the door open behind him. Draco shrugged, took his hands out of his pockets, and walked into the classroom. Destinee followed closely behind, who was trailed by Parvati and Ron.

"That was odd," Harry said, his voice thick with confusion.

Hermione nodded. "He didn't give us a detention at all," she added as she walked back into the classroom with Harry.

Snape was already sitting behind his desk, in the middle of a sentence when Harry and Hermione took their seats. "...On why lengthening charms are so dangerous. It is due tomorrow. You can thank Mr. Potter for this," Snape growled as his eyes glistened with cruelty. He looked directly at Harry and smiled threateningly. Harry looked around the room tensely, and felt like the entire class was ogling him, and they were. Everyone stared defiantly at Harry, and he felt himself go slightly crimson as he sank into his seat. Hermione bit her lip as she scanned the students' scowling faces.

Finally, to Harry's relief the bell rang and the class was dismissed. Everyone trudged out of the room muttering under their breath about their essay. Harry got up and collected his books while Hermione waited for him. Ron had already left with Parvati for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry turned to leave but was stopped by an icicle-like voice. "Potter, I want you to stay after," Snape commanded as he got up and briskly walked towards Harry. Hermione glanced from Snape to Harry, but didn't move from where she was. Snape eyed her carefully. "Alone," he added sharply.

"I'll see you in DADA," she whispered to Harry as she left the room.

~*~*~*~*~*

The bell had already chimed as Hermione slipped silently into an empty desk at the back of the classroom. She set her books on the desk and looked up to examine her new teacher. A woman with blonde hair that appeared to be fringed with gold from the sunlight was standing behind the desk. A book with a leather binding was spread out before her, and she had her elongated, polished finger placed on one of the pages. She tossed her hair behind her, and it seemed to ripple like golden water, and fall weightlessly to the small of her back. She looked at the class through her small, black rimmed reading classes that seemed to bring out her bright... purple eyes? Hermione looked at her teacher apprehensively, but then shrugged her misgiving off. After all, Madam Hooch had yellow ones.

"Welcome to Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'm your new teacher," she said as she walked to the front of her desk, swinging her hips effortlessly. Her silk blue dress robes swung back and forth as she walked, like a rippling ocean. She perched on the edge of her desk, and carefully crossed her legs. Hermione looked around the class and saw that the guys were practically drooling in their seats- Ron more than anyone else. Parvati glared at Ron with contempt. "My name is Professor," the teacher took her wand out of her pocket and waved it in the air. A faint gold outline appeared within the air, and then the outline darkened. The gold swirled and curved to form bubble letters that filled with bright cerulean color. The letters spelled out the name, "Ms. Sorion," she clarified as she waved her wand, and the magic letters faded away. Sorion gracefully leapt up from her desk, and stood behind it, peering into the book that was open. "Now," she said as she glanced up from the novel, "I'll start by teaching you all how to ward off a Confundus spell." She stood before the class again. "It's quite simple to accomplish. First, you must clear you head, and then..." Hermione stopped paying attention, when someone had slipped into the seat next to her.

"Harry!" she shouted as she realized who it was. Harry placed his index finger to his mouth, and Hermione whispered. "What happened?" she asked him sounding concern.

"I got a detention," Harry said, offhanded.

Hermione knew Harry better than this, and knew by the way he dismissed the topic that there was something more to it. "Harry," she began in a harsh whisper. "You're not telling me everything."

Harry looked over at Hermione and frowned. She knew that he didn't want to tell her what else happened, but her curiosity took the better of her. Harry turned away. "And Snape took fifty points from our house," he added as though it were nothing. Hermione widened her eyes but decided to remain silent. She discovered that sometimes saying nothing was much better than saying anything.

"Well, now that you know how to fight off the spell, let's practice, shall we?" Sorion stated cheerfully. "Partner up, now." Hermione looked over at Harry, and he looked at her too. The last time they partnered up together they managed to almost destroy the Potions room, and that was while they were paying attention. Neither Hermione nor Harry had heard a word that Professor Sorion had said, and they were now regretting it. Harry could just picture himself walking through the hallways looking like a dazed maniac while he knocked over innocent students. Hermione looked around the room and noticed that everyone was already standing up, and had their wands out. She could hear the many unsure "Confundus!" coming from the students' mouths.

She stood up as well, and looked irresolutely at Harry. "I'll do the spell," she said as she drew her wand out. "You've been able to fight off worse."

Draco still hadn't forgiven Crabbe and Goyle for their uprising earlier that day, and instead was partners with Pansy Parkinson. Pansy held her wand out, and pointed it at Draco. Her chocolate hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. Draco looked hesitant. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he inquired as he eyed Pansy's wand.

She smiled amiably. "Would I ever hurt you, Draco?" she asked considerately, as she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Yes."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "Confundus!" she shouted at Draco. A beam that resembled lightning in it's blue-white hue shot out from her wand and hit Draco directly in the chest. He stumbled slightly, but regained his stance. Pansy watched with bemusement as Draco began to shake his head, trying to battle the spell. Finally, he closed his eyes and concentrated on evading the effects of the magic charm. Pansy tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. Suddenly, his eyes shot open and he stared at Pansy. She was startled and jumped back slightly. She scrunched up her face, making her look even more pug-like in appearance, and looked uncertainly at Draco. "Draco?" she questioned as he smirked at her.

"Yes, Pansy, darling?" he asked his voice cool and smooth.

Pansy smiled softly. "I didn't know if you had fought it off or not. You scared me for a second."

Destinee was partnered up with Malcolm Baddock. She didn't know him, but she did know that he was a Slytherin. And that he wasn't bad looking. "Should I be hit with the spell?" Destinee asked him, "or should you?" She was eager to hear "I will" come from his lips.

"I will," he replied, virtually reading her mind. Destinee sighed with relief and removed her wand from her robe pocket. She slid her fingers along the cold, smooth black surface, knowing that encased within her wand was a one-of-a-kind barobo scale. Barabos were long since extinct. They had all been slaughtered by trained wizards because they had grown too feral and began to consume Muggles and Wizards alike. She placed her wand within her fingers and placed it directly in front of Malcolm's torso. She looked at him, biting her lip. He nodded assertively and Destinee closed her eyes.

"Confundus!" she shouted over the cries of the other students. A burning white beam sprung from her wand and struck Malcolm. He staggered and then collapsed over a student who was behind him.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as she rushed to his side. Malcolm sat up dizzily, his head was ringing and the room seemed to swim around him. Yet, he had defended himself from the enchantment. Harry was sprawled, face down, upon the floor next to Malcolm. "Harry!" Hermione shouted more frantically.

Malcolm quickly seized his head, and hollered back at Hermione. "Stop shouting! I've got a headache!" He cradled his head with his hand and watched as Destinee came toward him. She knelt beside him and placed her hands on either arm, looking into his eyes.

"You okay?" she asked with concern. She noticed that a rich river of blood had been slowly flowing from his palm. "You're bleeding," she stated calmly. She seized Malcolm's hand in hers, and watched in bewilderment as the wound healed itself. Destinee was taken back, and looked at Malcolm. His deep auburn eyes met Destinee's cerulean ones. "Malcolm..." she coaxed softly. He stood up quickly and backed away from her. His eyes flickered with an imperceptible emotion. Destinee thought that he was hiding something.

He quickly turned his stare down at Harry who began to stir restlessly. He kicked him with the tip of his boot softly in the ribs. "He's not dead, is he?"

"How dare you!" Hermione objected at Malcolm's inquiry. "Of course he's not dead!" she said, seeming to attempt reassuring herself. Malcolm shrugged and walked back to his table as Destinee pursued self-effacingly.

"Harry?" Hermione repeated desperately. She shook him softly. "Harry?" Her voice grew more frantic, as she shook him harder. Abruptly, a soft moan was audible. Harry turned over on his back, and looked up at Hermione. As she leaned over at looked at him, her coffee wavy hair fell away from her worried face like a weeping willow. Her face broke into an attempted smile. She quickly turned her head up as she heard footsteps approaching.

"Is he all right?" Sorion asked Hermione sounding alarmed. Hermione nodded slightly. "You're sure?" she asked again, not quite believing Hermione.

"I'm fine," Harry moaned. Sorion grimaced but turned away and walked back to her desk. Harry hastily got up from the ground, and dusted himself off. He swiftly walked back to his table before any of the Slytherins got the chance to scoff at him. Hermione pursued directly behind him. As soon as they had begun to sit down, the bell had pealed again, and the class was dismissed.

"No homework!" Professor Sorion shouted as the class paid no heed, and were already filing out of the classroom.

Draco was the last to leave, and began to make his way out of the room. Pansy greeted him at the door. Draco eyed her apprehensively. "What do you want, Pansy?"

She mock-pouted and looked at Draco through lowered lashes. "What? I can't say 'Hallo?'"

"No, but you can't lie, either. What do you want, Pansy?"

"I need you to meet me at Hogsmeade tonight behind the Weasels' joke shop. It's important; I really need to talk to you."

Draco cocked his head to one side, and looked at Pansy skeptically. "But we don't have permission to go to Hogsmeade," Draco replied. He was shocked himself that he had become so concerned with rules, but the irrationality of going to Hogsmeade just to talk to Pansy was even more illogical.

"You'll find a way." But before Draco could say anything, Pansy strolled down the corridor and disappeared.

~*~*~*~*~*

"So when is it? Isn't his birthday in March?" Harry asked Ginny as he negligently pushed a piece of toast around his plate with his fork. He's been doing this the whole time Ginny had been discussing Ron's surprise birthday. However, it was like discussing to a wall, because Harry's mind kept wandering off somewhere else. Maybe a wall would be more enthusiastic about it, though, Ginny thought.

"That's why it's going to be a surprise! Haven't you been paying any attention to me?" Ginny scowled at him, but Harry was too taken by his toast to hear her. He looked up at Ginny. She was leaning across the table, so that she could whisper to Harry and Ron couldn't hear. Yet she had long since abandoned the pretense of whispering and instead decided that yelling would catch his attention. However, yelling was just as futile.

"Sorry," Harry said flatly, not feeling remorse at all. Ginny smiled at him, unable to hold a grudge with Harry for very long. She still had feelings for him deep inside of her, but she wouldn't confess it to anyone, not even herself. Harry turned his gaze down the table to Ron who was talking vigorously to Hermione. She had been in charge of distracting Ron while Harry and Ginny made the plans and finalized the party. She had been keeping up with her end of the deal, and Harry felt a slight twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach when he realized he wasn't holding up to his. Harry belatedly noticed that Parvati had clung to Ron's arm like a lost child. Blimey, Harry thought to himself. Does she ever do anything without Ron there? Harry knew he was irritable, but couldn't help it from ravishing his thoughts.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice was as smooth as polished glass. Harry broke his stare off, and faced Ginny. "What's bothering you?" she asked with sincere apprehension. Harry shook his head as to shrug the topic away. He looked into Ginny's eyes and he could feel her deep worry radiating off of her. Harry had always liked her company, because he knew that when she looked concern she was concerned, and not putting up some smokescreen. He always thought of Ginny as an earnest person, and he liked that trait in a person. "Harry?" Ginny repeated when she noticed that he was staring at her quite oddly. She reached out and placed her hand on top of his. Harry looked down at his hand and felt the warmth exude from her.

He smiled faintly, and looked back up at Ginny. "It's nothing," he lied, and Ginny seemed to have picked up on his dishonesty. When he saw her reaction, he added," Really, Ginny."

She didn't seem to believe him, but went along with it anyway. Ginny began, "So, we have to decide a date for the party..."

~*~*~*~*~*

Draco slowly walked to the Great Hall. Since DADA, he had been wondering why Pansy wanted to meet him in Hogsmeade of all places. It made absolutely no sense to him. Why couldn't she just meet me in the common room? he questioned himself. There had to be something going on, but he didn't know what it was. He meant to follow Pansy and ask her why she wanted to meet him there, but it seemed as though she vanished; Draco couldn't find her anywhere. His mind blurred with possible scenarios, each more absurd than the last. Draco did a mental shrug, and decided that he would accomplish nothing by bickering over it. He walked down the hallway, hands in his pocket, listening to his soft footsteps on the floor below. He stopped abruptly when he heard a familiar voice talking in a hoarse whisper. He pressed himself against the wall, and peered cautiously around the corner. At first he saw Snape and what seemed like him talking to a wall. Draco stuck his head out further and saw that he was talking to Professor Sorion who was leaning upon the wall, looking keenly at Snape. Draco rapidly withdrew his head from around the corner, and listened carefully.

"What happened?" Draco heard Professor Sorion ask, sounding vex.

"Potter's potion backfired in class today," Snape replied coldly.

"Was he alright?"

"Yes, but that's not the point." Draco smirked to himself as he heard Snape sound almost regretful that Potter wasn't damaged. "The point is that there was no reason for it to backfire."

Sorion looked perplexed at Snape. "Are you sure?" she asked, dubiously. "I mean, you couldn't have been watching him the entire time."

"I was." Snape's penetrating voice cut through Draco. "I told Granger not to help Potter with his potion. However, I knew that she would, and so I observed," Snape added callously as he realized that watching Harry the whole time sounded rather peculiar

"He did everything correctly? You're sure?" Sorion asked with qualm.

"Of course I'm sure."

"Well, that is odd." A long silence followed her comment. "Well, you have an explanation, don't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't be talking with me." A long pause followed again. Draco could sense Snape's stern gaze on Professor Sorion.

"Before the accident occurred one of my students, had correctly performed the potion," Snape began. Draco realized that he was talking about Destinee. "I turned my gaze towards her, but then something caught my eye," Snape hesitated slightly.

Sorion inhaled intensely for she never knew Snape to be so wary. He was usually a straightforward man, and the fact that he was hesitating alarmed her. "I'd rather not know," she replied in a small voice, unlike her own. Draco heard her footsteps clicking on the floor, and each click became louder and louder as she came closer to him. He tensed, his shoulders angled, and his back pressed so firmly against the wall it began to feel like he was leaning upon a wall of spikes. Snape quickly reached out and seized Sorions's wrist, and pulled her back again. Draco sighed with relief as he heard the footsteps grow fainter as she was pulled back.

"You must know," Snape reassured her, which Draco thought was abnormal. He never pictured Snape as a reassuring person. Instead, he saw him as a 'kick-him-while-he's-down' type of man.

"Why?" she asked in an anxious, hoarse voice.

"It's for your own good."

Sorion sounded restless. "What are you talking about?"

"If my suspicions are correct, then I need your help," Snape explained vaguely.

"Wouldn't it be better to go to Dumbledore?" Sorion suddenly broke off. "Of course I'll help get rid of that boggart for you," she added loudly, and out of place. Draco lowered his eyebrows in confusion. What just happened? He thought that Snape had hit Professor Sorion with a Confundus spell, which would be ironic since they learned to evade them earlier. Draco tensed as he watched Professor Sprout walk by cheerfully, practically bouncing down the hall with her round, short body. As Sprout disappeared from view, Professor Sorion spoke again in an undertone. "Dumbledore..." she reminded Severus gently.

"No. I can't go to him," Snape snapped. "If my notion is incorrect, then I would look foolish."

"Okay," she nodded, unsure. "Continue." A pause followed. It seemed to last forever to Draco. He could feel the tension in the silent hall, and felt that he could cut it with a knife. The room was deadly quiet, and he could hear the faint ticking coming from the grandfather clock farther down the hallway. He began to sweat slightly. Then he shivered as though the temperature alternated between scorching and frosty. He hadn't the faintest idea why he was so panicked about their conversation, but he had a feeling that it wasn't good just by the way Snape had spoken. "Stop hedging, Severus! Tell me what's going on!" Professor Sorion's voice broke through Draco, and he was taken aback. Never did he hear a teacher shout at Snape, but Draco could almost experience how annoyed she was, as if they were one in the same. Draco felt the equivalent; he was tired of Snape's forestalling of the question, and wanted him to just come out and say it.

"Are you sure?" Snape's steady voice asked her.

"Well, if I wasn't, you'd just pull me back and tell me anyway. So go!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"It's about Mr. Malfoy," Snape began slowly, drawing out each word he said.

"Draco Malfoy?" Sorion echoed. Draco's head was swimming, he felt like he was outside his body, looking down on all that was happening. He wanted to stop listening, to run away from what he was about to hear; yet, he couldn't. He froze in his spot, and listened against his will.

"Correct."

"How can I help you with Malfoy?" Sorion asked with disgust. She stressed 'Malfoy' as though it were some dirty, foul word. Draco grimaced.

"Draco is of concern to me."

"Why? What do you need me for?" Sorion echoed the questions she's been asking the entire discussion, yet never received an answer. Draco had a suspicion that Snape was stalling just to irritate Sorion. However, another part of Draco thought that maybe Snape was actually too apprehensive about communicating this information. Draco had no idea why he was taking so long to say what he had to say. It was as though he resented having to tell someone about it. It has to be bad, Draco thought to himself. He wondered what the news could possible be. Am I dying? He asked himself in utter disbelief at the whole situation. "Dammit, Severus!" Professor Sorion shouted, and Draco jumped as her shrill voice rippled through him. "Stop running circles around it, and just tell me what's going on!" She threw her hands in the air, fed up with the whole thing. Whatever shred of restraint she had, was long since destroyed as her petulance took the better of her. Snape was quiet, and another long, eerie silence followed. Sorion glowered at Snape as though he was the most horrid thing she had seen in her life. Perhaps he was. She tossed her long hair behind her shoulder. "That's it! I'm telling Dumbledore!" she shouted at last. She turned to walk away, but Snape clutched her arm and held her back. She turned on her heels to face him. "And would you stop doing that!" She motioned to Snape's grasp on her arm. He hastily withdrew his hand. "Tell me what's going on, Severus," she began. Her voice had lost it's abrupt indignation, and was now filled with a weary restiveness. "Tell me what's going on without these vague responses, or I'm going directly to Dumbledore and reporting your suspicions towards Malfoy. And don't think I won't!"

"Fine," he replied finally with edge. Snape opened his mouth to elaborate...

"Ow!" Draco shouted as something hit him, hard, on the shoulder. He turned swiftly and saw Crabbe grinning behind him. He greeted Draco cheerfully. Draco narrowed his eyes fiercely at him. He clenched his hands into fists so tight that his knuckles turned white. He bit his lip, but could not help the rage boiling within him. He could not believe that he was interrupted in finding out something ostensibly significant about him. He could not believe even more that Crabbe was the one interfering. "You stupid git!" he bellowed, his voice higher in pitch than normal. Crabbe's smile vanished suddenly as he glanced behind Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape's voice rang coldly from behind him. Draco inhaled deeply, and turned to face him. Snape was looking paler than usual, his face a ghostly fingerprint between his black, greasy hair, and his dark, velvet robes. His face was stern with bewilderment and fury.

Professor Sorion stood to his right, looking incongruously out of place with her brilliant blonde hair and sapphire robes. She cleared her throat. "You should return to the Great Hall. You're missing lunch," she said in Crabbe's direction. His face lightened suddenly at the mention of food and practically ran toward the Great Hall. Professor Sorion turned to Snape. "I should go. I'll speak with you later." And with that she rounded the corner and vanished from sight.

Draco felt curiously alone and arctic in the hallway. He gazed up at Professor Snape, and gulped faintly. He never saw Snape look at him this way before. This must be how he treats Potter, Draco evoked. Snape's icy-hot glare pierced through Draco like a sword. Snape opened his mouth and began to speak in a voice more bitter than anything he had experienced before.

"Come with me, Mr. Malfoy."

~*~*~*~*~*

"Where is he?" Pansy shouted as she threw her hands up in frustration. She's been bantering about Draco not appearing at lunch since the moment it began. Destinee, who had sat on her left, got fed up with getting smacked in the head by Pansy's waving hands, so she moved to sit across from her. Pansy frowned and looked down at her empty plate. "You think something happened to him?" she asked, glancing up at Destinee.

Destinee shrugged. "I dunno. He's probably somewhere snogging with whores," she suggested vividly.

Pansy ignored her, and turned to Malcolm who was sitting next to Destinee. "Malcolm, you haven't seen him, have you?" she asked, her voice dripping with anxiety.

Malcolm shook his head. "Haven't seen him since last period." Pansy suddenly pounded her fists on the table, and it vibrated beneath her. All the students at the Slytherin table turned their heads to her with looks of irritability. Pansy felt herself go slightly pink.

"I saw him," a deep voice interrupted. Millicent Bulstrode sat down next to Pansy, and the bench practically bent in towards her as she did.

Pansy quickly seized hold of Millicent's robe. "You have to tell me! I really need to talk to him!" she shouted at Millicent with dire urgency.

Millicent pulled Pansy's fragile hands away from her robe. "I saw Snape herding him into his office, just a minute ago." Millicent helped herself to mounds of toast, candied apples, pumpkin pie, and other sweets. She shrugged and added, "Looks like he's in trouble."

Pansy's face was thick with pallor. She glanced uncertainly at her watch, and numbers magically appeared on the face of it. She got up from her seat, and looked at Malcolm with sincere eyes of concern. "Malcolm, I need you to tell him something. It's really important!" she added as she saw Malcolm's expression. She leaned across the table and whispered into Malcolm's ear, he nodded, and began to pop pumpkin seeds into his mouth. "I have to go meet Flitwick with extra help. I'll see you all later." Pansy strolled swiftly down the hall, and disappeared as she closed the doors behind her.

Destinee glanced, baffled, at the staff table at the front of the hall. She fixed her eyes on Professor Flitwick who was talking gaudily to Professor Sprout. Destinee narrowed her eyes in utter confusion. "Flitwick is up there, though." She pointed to the staff table.

Millicent followed her finger, and she shrugged. "Oh well. She probably ran off after Draco." She suggested casually. Destinee didn't think this was the cause for her sudden departure, but let it go. Instead, she turned her attention to Malcolm, who was looking at her, but rapidly looked down at his plate instead. Ever since DADA, Malcolm hadn't talked to her, and Destinee didn't appreciate the tension between them. It was as though Malcolm put up a barrier around him, so that Destinee couldn't try to interpret what he was going through. She thought about how his wound had magically healed itself in DADA. Destinee remembered reading somewhere that some wizards are born with special plasma in their blood that allows them to heal abnormally. She remembered that they were called Oringers. She glanced down at Malcolm's palm, and noticed that not even a scar was left over. It was as though nothing ever happened, and that maybe Malcolm wanted it that way. Destinee had tried to talk to him about the accident ever since it occurred, but he simply walked away from her, or ignored the topic. She suddenly felt sorry for Malcolm. What if he was an Oringer? She heard that their healing properties didn't start until they hit a certain age. What if he was just now realizing what he was, and scared of what it would mean? He was probably just as uncertain about what had happened as Destinee had been. She wondered if she should tell someone about it, but decided that she wouldn't, because she wasn't positive that he was one.

"Malcolm..." Destinee began delicately.

Malcolm knew what she was about to say, and stood up from the table. He shook his head at her. "No. I'm not going to discuss it. Just," Malcolm's body tensed as he looked at Destinee with trepidation and worry in his eyes. He turned away, his voice in a half-whisper, "let it go." Malcolm walked away, out the Great Hall, and disappeared just as Pansy had. She stared at the door he had left through, long after he had departed. She was thinking about the way Malcolm looked at her, with his eyes not being able to understand what was happening.

"It's not polite to stare," a familiar drawling voice said from the seat Pansy had just vacated.

Destinee cast a sideways glance. "It's not polite to worry Pansy half to death, either," she said coldly.

Draco smirked as he began to butter a piece of toast. Is that all these people eat? Destinee asked herself. "The girl loves me. Not that I can blame her, though," he said as he began to eat his toast.

Destinee faced Draco, and rolled her eyes. "You really had her worried, you know? She said she really wanted to talk to you. Then she asked Malcolm to relay the message."

Draco swallowed. "What was it?"

Destinee shrugged. "I dunno. She whispered it to him, and then she left. And then," she said nodding to where Malcolm had once sat, "he left."

"You really ought to work on your people skills then, Magus," Draco taunted.

"Where were you?" Destinee asked as the sudden question popped into her head.

Draco froze immediately, and looked deeply into Destinee's eyes. His eyes were filled with an icy expression. "That's none of your business, Magus," he replied sharply.

Destinee stared at him as he bowed his head and avoided eye contact with her. Confused and slightly afraid, Destinee wanted to know what had happened. "Draco," she began as gently as possible. He looked up at her, surprised by her tone. She continued. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he replied, shaking his head. "Just drop it." Destinee realized that she wasn't good at persuading people. Suddenly, Draco's gaze fell behind her. She followed, and turned in her seat. She immediately knew what he was staring at.

Ron was sitting at the Gryffindor table, showing Hermione a small, burgundy, velvet box, resembling a jewelry case. He was talking animatedly to Hermione, and Hermione clasped her hands together in what appeared to be shock. Ron carefully opened up the box to her. She shrieked as soon as she saw it, as though it were a spider. Inside the box was a small, gold ring. Encrusted within the ring was a small diamond that reflected the sunlight like water and made it shine like stars.

"Looks like Weasel's proposing," Draco said with amusement. Destinee was bowled over by how suddenly Draco could change moods. One minute he looked terrified, and the next he would return to normal. She watched as Hermione picked the ring up to observe it. Draco laughed shortly. "Their children will be scarred for life."

~*~*~*~*~*

Ron hurried down the dormitory stairs, pulling his robe on as he did. Harry and Hermione were waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. Hermione was sitting in front of the fire in an oversized red chair, reading a book, while Harry was polishing his Firebolt and looking at it complacently. They glanced up as they heard Ron running down the stairs that lead to the dormitory. He was wearing a rather expensive looking red sweater and black trousers.

Hermione looked at him. "So you're actually going to do it?" she asked as she placed her book down on the table next to her, and a small piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Harry looked at Hermione, and lowered his brows in confusion. "Do what?" he asked her.

In response, she turned to Ron. "You should tell him," she said slowly to him.

Ron nodded and sat down next to Harry on the couch. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small velvet box. He opened it, and showed the gleaming ring to him. "I'm touched, Ron. But I'm afraid my heart belongs to someone else," Harry replied with a smirk.

Ron laughed and nudged the box toward Harry. "Look at it," he suggested optimistically.

Harry picked up the ring from it's lace pillow and examined it carefully. Inside the ring was an engraving in fancy letters that swooshed and swirled. "To Parvati, with love?" Harry read aloud. He looked from the ring to Ron. Harry's expression was dubious to say the least.

Ron frowned at him, and looked slightly hurt. "You don't think she'll like it?" he asked with concern.

Harry looked back down at the ring. "Don't you think it's just a little too soon? I mean you haven't been dating that long. It's too soon to get married," he paused and looked at Ron's expression. Ron looked amused and began to shake with laughter. Hermione rolled her eyes at the whole situation. "What?" Harry asked irritably.

"I'm not marrying her, Harry," his voice still full of amusement. "It's just a ring. You know, like, 'I'm serious about this relationship' sorta thing." Ron took the ring from Harry and placed it back in its velvet and lace abode. Harry flushed slightly.

"Where'd you get the money?" Harry asked.

"From Fred and George's joke shop. It's bringing in a lot of profit."

"Where are you meeting her?" Hermione asked Ron rather harshly, quickly changing the subject.

"In our secret meeting area," Ron replied sounding juvenile, as he looked at the ring within its box. He closed it and put it in his pocket.

Hermione and Harry glanced sideways at each other, and then looked at Ron. "And where would that be?" Harry asked, curiously. Hermione looked like she wanted to know, as well.

"In an abandoned trophy room on the fifth floor," Ron coughed. Hermione looked at Harry and he stared back. Harry's eyes glinted with laughter, but Hermione's glinted with something else. Harry began to chuckle loudly. "What's so funny?" Ron demanded as he stood up from the couch, and glowered at Harry.

"Sounds romantic," Hermione said sardonically.

Harry looked up at Ron. "That place is used more for snogging than Pansy Parkinson," Harry said through bouts of laughter. "It's all dirty and probably... contaminated from all the people who used it," he added. "Really romantic place to give a ring to the girl your serious about," Harry said with thick sarcasm.

Ron scowled at them both. "Where would you suggest I do it, then? Right here?" he asked, loudly.

"Nah, I don't wanna bear witness to you making a complete git of yourself," Harry taunted.

Ron grew scarlet, and threw his hands in the air. "I'm not going to make a git of myself!"

Harry waved his hands, suggestively. "I was just joking. Just joking. You take things to seriously, Ron."

"Well, I don't find it funny," Ron sneered.

"Of course you wouldn't. I'm making fun of you."

Ron looked down at his watch, and grunted. "I'm late, thank you," he said as he began to trudge to the picture frame, and vanished as it closed behind him. Hermione gawked at the picture frame, and listened until Ron's footsteps faded.

She turned to Harry and looked at him attentively. He had resumed polishing his broomstick. "Do you think it's too soon for him to, you know, do that?" she asked him hesitantly.

Harry placed his broom on the side of the couch. "Yeah, I do. But it's his decision not ours. We're just here for moral support," Harry replied. Hermione looked thoughtfully at the ground, and Harry knew that something was troubling her. "Hermione?" he asked his voice as calm and cool as a lazy pond.

She looked up at him, and met his eyes. "It's just that," she paused and shook her head, not wanting to speak any further. Harry got up and knelt beside her, grasping her hand in his. He was suddenly aware of how small her hand was and how perfectly her hand fit within his. He looked up at her. The light from the fire turned her hair into a gold. Half her face was hidden within shadows, but Harry could still see the emotion that her eyes held. She shut her eyes, and turned away from him, her face no longer visible.

"Hermione..." Harry called gently. He felt the warmth that her skin emitted, but he knew that her warmth was no indication of how she felt inside.

Hermione turned her head to face Harry. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds with the moisture growing in them. "I thought he liked me. He told me he did, Harry," Hermione's voice trembled as she dammed up the river that flooded inside her. "But now, but now..." Hermione's voice trailed off.

Harry suddenly felt awkward. "I'm not good at this sort of thing. I should get Ginny," Harry suggested as he stood up. Hermione reached her hand out and grabbed Harry's hand like she had in Potions, but this time without so much vigor and more placidness.

"No," she shook her head.

"No?" Harry echoed.

"I want you to stay." Hermione tugged delicately on his hand. "Please," she pleaded.

Harry nodded and knelt back down beside Hermione. "I'm sorry I'm not better at this," Harry whispered.

"It's okay. You're doing fine," she sniffled. Slowly, Hermione leaned forward and clasped her hands around Harry's neck. Harry placed his arms around her as well and stroked her hair gently. Hermione sniffled quietly in his ear. She smelled of rosemary and jasmine; the perfume Ron had given her for her birthday. Harry felt like he was somewhere else as he held Hermione. He felt like he was no longer Harry Potter: the Boy Who Lived, and that he was something more. He was Hermione's strength. He held her tightly within his arms, and brushed her cheek softly with the back of his hand. He felt his shirt dampen with Hermione's tears, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the rhythmic rising and falling with each breath. He felt like there was no one else in the world, except for them in that brief moment. He was no longer aware of his surrounding, and only sensed Hermione's emotion pouring out of her like a rushing stream. He was glad to be holding her like this in his arms, like he had always wanted to do, yet it was bittersweet. Harry realized that Hermione saw him as only this; someone to come to when she was hurt. A friend. It stabbed him like a sword piercing his heart and soul. He knew that she could never return the feelings that Harry had for her. Her heart already belonged to Ron, and Harry suddenly grew angry with Ron for not returning the feelings to her. If he had been in Ron's place, he would've dumped Parvati the moment he had a chance. He would do anything for Hermione, and it pained him that Ron did not feel the same about her. If only he had been the one Hermione loved...No, he thought to himself. I'm not the one she loves. I'm not Ron. Hermione shook quietly in his arms as she let her sorrow out. Harry held her tighter, as if he was holding the moment, and wasn't willing to let it go. Then, it was as though the moment fell through his fingers like grains of sand.

Someone, unintentionally, cleared their throat from behind them. Quickly, Hermione released her grip from around Harry, and he reluctantly did the same. He suddenly felt cold without Hermione holding him. He stood up and swiftly faced the person standing before him. Hermione gasped, and Harry faltered slightly when they realized who it was.

~*~*~*~*~*

Draco strolled quietly across the Slytherin common room. He wore a gray turtleneck and black trousers. He tugged his heavy cloak on as he walked past a small group of Slytherins chatting quietly in front of the fireplace. They had their hands placed in front of the fire, attempting to warm up. However, in the dungeons, you could never get warm. "Where you going?" a female voice asked from behind Draco.

He turned around and faced the person who had spoken. "Shouldn't you be in your bed, Magus?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you, Malfoy?" she asked, mocking him.

"Well, if you wanted me in your bed, you could've just asked," Draco replied surreptitiously. Destinee smiled vaguely at him, tilting her head down as she did so, as if to conceal her expression. "I've got someone to meet."

"At this hour?" she asked, dubiously.

"Girls get lonely at night. They crave my charm."

Destinee gagged. "You're so full of yourself."

"I strive," he replied as he turned away from Destinee.

She walked beside him, though she had to walk a bit faster than usual. Since Draco's legs were so lengthy, his strides were longer. "So, where are you really going?" She asked him as they walked out of the wall that barricaded the Slytherin common and it slammed shut behind them.

Draco looked around him, and then leaned in to Destinee to whisper. "Hogsmeade."

"HOGSMEADE?" Destinee shouted in disbelief. Draco tensed and quickly placed his hand over Destinee's mouth. His eyes swiftly scanned the dungeon hallway, and when he was sure that no one heard, he let go of her mouth.

Destinee glared at him. "Don't do that!"

"Then don't shout!" Draco shouted. He placed his hands in his pockets and continued to walk down the hallway. He was convinced that going to Hogsmeade was enough to persuade Destinee to stay behind. Yet, she persisted and walked beside him.

"We don't have permission to go."

"We?" Draco asked, astounded that she thought she was coming.

"Well, my cousin works at the Three Broomsticks. I was going to stop by and say hello," Destinee responded meekly.

"And she won't be surprised to see you waltzing in at twelve at night?"

"Well, um, uh," Destinee stuttered.

"Uh huh. You'd be better off staying behind."

"But I want to go!" she pleaded.

"Fine. But I'm not going to the Three Broomsticks. So once we get there, don't expect me to hold your hand."

"Why would I want you to hold my hand?" she retorted. They continued walking down the hallways of Hogwarts. Draco every now and then would pause and peer around corners, scanning the vicinity for any signs of Mr. Filch, Ms. Norris, or any other person that might be wandering around the halls. After a few moments of silence, Destinee decided to speak again. "Where are you going once you get there? I mean, the Three Broomsticks is the only place that's open this late. Unless you're going to that part of Hogsmeade."

"That part?" Draco asked. "You mean Shadesly Street?" he suggested. "I don't see what's everyone's problem with Shadesly is. They're just afraid."

"Why shouldn't they be? Death Eaters go there. That's enough to make anyone afraid." Destinee shivered at the thought of running into a Death Eater.

"Well, that's rather harsh. Death Eaters have feelings too, you know," Draco drawled, thinking of his father and whether or not he really had feelings. "I'm not going there anyway," he added belatedly.

"Where you going, then?" Destinee asked, curiously.

"I'm meeting someone behind the Weasleys' joke shop," he replied.

To Destinee, it suddenly all made sense. "You mean Pansy?"

"Congratulations, Sherlock," Draco replied. He paused in front of a statue of a one-eyed witch. Its stone body was covered in thin strings of cobwebs.

Destinee hadn't realized where she was going, and never remembered this area from her tour. "Where are we?" she asked as she looked around and heard her voice echo off the empty room.

"Third floor. Secret passage within this statue. I just forgot what the spell was to open it up..." Draco's voice dropped suddenly when he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Destinee froze where she was, unable to move. The footsteps grew more strident as they pealed through the room and approached them. It was an agonizing reverberation and Destinee tensed with each step she heard. Her heartbeat pulsed within her ear, and it flooded her hearing, soon drowning out the footsteps.

"What?" the voice that belonged to the footsteps shrieked as the person saw Destinee and Draco. "What are you two doing here?" the voice bellowed.

~*~*~*~*~*

Ron tiptoed out of the Gryffindor common, and immediately shivered as the cold air of the castle brushed against his skin. He pulled his cloak tighter around him and began to make his way through the Gryffindor tower. Nearly all of the portraits were asleep within their frames, though some were still awake, eying Ron suspiciously. One female portrait in a large, red, flowing gown sitting upon a rock in the middle of a desert giggled upon inspection of Ron. "Where you headin' to, cowboy?" she asked him, flirtatiously. Ron ignored her, and continued down the hallway. The world seemed so foreign to him at nighttime; it was as though it were a completely different place. Everything about him seemed more daunting and more forbidden. He was about to place his foot on the stairs descending to the sixth floor, when he heard footsteps approaching. He hastily looked around for somewhere to hide, but the darkness of the night forbid him to see very far. The surrounding environment was bathed in an eerie blue hue, tinseled with the silver light from the moon. He squinted around and ran to a nearby bookshelf, which shadowed a corner of the hallway. He heard the person begin to climb the steps, and saw who it was. She wore a large, black, floppy hat and her hair was tied into a bun. Professor McGonagall. Ron swore to himself for not remembering to ask Harry for his invisibility cloak. Too late for that, I can't go back now, Ron thought to himself. Parvati's waiting for me. As McGonagall passed him, Ron saw her turn and enter a hidden stairway. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, walked down the staircase, and landed on the sixth floor which was home to Runic Studies. One more to go, Ron thought anxiously to himself as he gripped the ring's box within his cloak pocket.

He edged his way across the Runic floor, his ears perked for any noise that wasn't his own. He tiptoed as quietly as he could down the stairs and landed on the Non-magical Studies floor. Bingo, he thought to himself as he placed his wand on the lock of the door and whispered "Alohomora" under his breath. Swiftly he swung the door open and closed it tightly behind him.

The trophy room was much darker than the rest of the castle because there were no windows in it. "Lumos," he said cautiously as a flicker of light sprang from the tip of his wand. He squinted from the sudden light that filled the immediate hollow of darkness that engulfed him. Once his eyes grew adjusted to it, he used his wand like a flashlight, and scanned the room for any signs of Parvati. Tiny dust motes danced before the shaft of light, but his heart sank when he didn't see her. "I'm early, though. She'll come soon," Ron spoke, reassuring himself.

He walked to a nearby trophy case and peered into it. Cobwebs adorned the once-glimmering trophies of gold and silver like tinsel. He sighed and sat with his back against it, and fumbled around in his pocket for the ring case. He felt the familiar velvet beneath his fingertips, and pulled the case out. He opened it and smiled to himself faintly as he admired it. The diamond encrusted within its gold shined brightly from the light that danced on the tip of Ron's wand. The gold looked like a band of golden fire within the snowflake lace. Ron closed the box and sat it down on the floor beside him. He glanced back down at his watch. Vivid green numbers floated on the face of it. "11:47," he said with a deep breath.

~*~*~*~*~*

Ron trudged up the stairs back to the common room, his hand wrapped so tightly around the ring he had prepared to give Parvati, that his knuckles turned white. He had waited for over an hour and a half for her to show, but lost all hope when she hadn't arrived. His heart felt like lead within his chest, heavy with anguish and with some irritation. He had thought about why Parvati hadn't shown up to meet him. She got his letter, and they talked about it during lunch. Ron's grip tightened around the ring as he thought about it, and a small halo of red formed on his hand where the ring had pressed into his skin.

Every time Ron saw Parvati, it felt like he had butterflies in his stomach, and he got choked up. First shot at love, and it failed miserably, Ron thought to himself in a disconsolate tone. Might as well give up all together and become a hag.

He reached the commons room and paused in front of the picture frame. The Fat Lady sat blearily in her frame, looking at Ron. She blinked at him, and began in a somnolent voice. "I haven't got all day, dear," she muttered.

"Flickertwit," Ron said half-reluctantly. The picture frame swung towards him, and Ron stepped inside. He was greeted by the warm air of the common room coming from the bright orange embers still visible within the dying fire. He smiled beside himself, and tried to swallow his anguish. He had a Quidditch game coming up soon, and being the Keeper, he had to focus on the game.

As he entered the commons, the warm perfume of the Gryffindor tower greeted him, lazily. The rich gold and red carpeting, wallpaper, and matching decor was welcoming and inviting opposed to the dark, eerie foreboding castle halls outside. As he stepped farther into the room, he observed that Hermione hadn't left her seat. She was gazing into the flickering fire, it's dying orange light licking her face. A few steps farther and he saw Harry still sitting across from her, positioned exactly where he was last time. He was looking down at the ground, his mouth opening and closing as he talked in an inaudible language. Upon closer inspection, Ron realized that Hermione was listening to him speak as she sporadically nodded her head in acknowledgement. Harry ran a hand through his disorderly hair, and glanced up as he heard Ron's footsteps. He stopped talking, and shrank back. Hermione turned over to Harry when she could no longer hear his voice, and Harry nodded behind her. She slowly turned her head, as if she knew she wouldn't like what she saw. "Ron," she said as though the wind was knocked out of her.

Ron lowered his eyebrows in concern. "What's going-" His voice dropped suddenly as he saw who was sitting on the couch next to Harry. He was wearing a crimson sheet that matched the house colors, which he was clutching tightly about himself. Ron knew that he would be exposed without that thin barrier around his skin. His golden brown hair was tousled upon his head as though he had just woken up- but by the way he looked, Ron knew he hadn't gotten much of it. He glanced nervously up at Ron, and then turned away immediately. Ron's gaze slowly turned to the female figure who sported an identical crimson sheet. Her eyes never met Ron's and her face was generally covered in shadows, but he knew who she was all the same.

Ron quickly snapped his head, away from the figures on the couch. He shook his head as though it would free him from this nightmare. His eyes began to swell as he bit his lip to fight back the swelling within him. He stared, hard, at the ground, and he let his white-knuckled grip around the ring slip. "How could you..." he spat acidly through gritted teeth. He shut his eyes tightly, and shook his head more furiously. When he spoke again his voice was suddenly ridded of its ferocity and quivered with sullen despondency. "How could you, Parvati?"

Ron released his clutch upon the golden ring. It fell slowly from his grasp, reflecting the fire's now low embers below the mantle. It seemed to glow with a new morning as it tumbled down to the ground, and at last, touched down on the cold, flooring below, and echoed eerily throughout the room.