Let the Darkness Become You

Let the Darkness Become You

*~*

Chapter Four

To this day I don't think Mother has ever forgiven me. It should feel odd to be so out-of-sorts with one's parent, but for me I honestly can't remember a feeling more natural than dread when thinking of my mother. ~Diary of Pansy Parkinson

~*~

Many of the lessons I had been taught applied perfectly to my current situation. Always strive for a more powerful alliance, never stop making allies, and most important of them all, never turn down an offer for a higher advantage. Despite this, I found that my decision was a hard one to make.

As an heir I would be required to attend to Grandmother as a companion, start learning the management of Esteria, and most important of them all, live at Esteria. While my life with my parents hadn't been as the favorite, it was a good one filled with happy memories just as much as sad ones.

The manor in Hastings was where I had grown up with Zella; climbing down the cliff sides to the sea, where we ran along the shores or built our dream homes out of sand, seaweed, and shells. My parents also filled my childhood with moments of affection. My favorite activities as a child had been to walk with Father to the stables or help Mother get ready before a ball. As I got older, these activities were replaced with evening dinners or the private gift exchange at Christmas.

Never before had I felt so divided. I had always assumed that the title of heir would go to Zella. As much as I hated it, my future had pretty much consisted of a good marriage and graduating from Hogwarts. It had seemed so much more simplistic that way.

Grandmother was offering great possibilities; to have my own estate to manage, a far better advancement into her "society" and a better chance at marriage. As an heir I would be much more valuable as a bride, probably landing me with a rich, higher esteemed family name.

It wasn't until I arrived for dinner later on that I truly realized my decision.

Walking into the brightly lit room, I looked at the elderly woman seated regally at the table. Meeting her dark eyes, I said, "I accept."

It irritated me that it seemed to be what she expected and I almost reconsidered just to wipe off that smirk. I didn't, of course. I may be stubborn, but I'm not stupid.

"Excellent," she exclaimed, motioning for me to take my seat as the servants started to levitate in trays of food. "I will have to owl your parents immediately of my decision."

I refrained from telling her that it had been my decision and instead focused on the extravagant food before us.

"We will also have to get you a new wardrobe, start your lessons, collect the rest of your things, polish up your manners..."

Staring at her indignantly, I protested, "Polish up my manners? I'll have you know that my manners-"

"Are nowhere near perfect," she interrupted with an arrogant laugh. "I can't introduce you to others with the rudimentary skill you have and those robes!" She shook her head, expressing her obvious thoughts on my robes, and busied herself with dinner.

Sighing, I mournfully bit into my roll. More lessons!

You brought it on yourself, my conscious intoned knowingly.

*~*

The next week remained a blur of meetings and arrangements that I hardly remembered. First, I met with my grandmother's lawyer, Mr. Jenkins, who had me sign a testament legalizing the inheritance I would receive, as decreed by Grandmother. I then spent the remainder of the week meeting various associates and assistants of my grandmother's, ones that I hadn't realized helped to manage and run the affairs of all the Parkinson estate.

It was towards the end of that first imposing week that I received a summons from my grandmother to attend to her in the family parlour. I did so with trepidation, wondering what newest assignment my grandmother would have for me. I found her sitting on a couch, immersed in a thick ledger with her quill moving rapidly as she sipped a cup of tea.

"Grandmother," I announced myself uncertainly.

She glanced up before returning to her work. "This just came for you," she said, pointing towards the mail tray where a single letter lay.

Nightshade was perched on the back of a wooden chair, gazing about with a cocked head.

Moving to take the letter, I immediately recognized my mother's handwriting and opened it reluctantly.

Dearest Daughter,

Your father and I are most surprised of your decision to stay with your grandmother. I understand that this is a great opportunity on your part and I am proud of your accomplishment. However, how inconsiderate of you to not consult either myself or your father! Unfortunately, what is done can not be undone. I am sending Peter over with your belongings and look forward to seeing you in August at the wedding. That is, if you still intend to go? Remember that you always represent us, as well as yourself, and I wish you well.

Forever your loving Mother,

Penelope Houflin-Parkinson

I frowned at the letter irritably. I had known that Mother wouldn't be pleased with me, but to actually hint that I would forget about them and not attend the wedding was absurd! It also hurt that she had thought our relationship changed since my newly acquired status. She had never before signed her letters to me with the Houflin name and was obviously trying to add a hint of betrayal to my decision.

"From Penelope, I presume?" Grandmother inquired, looking up with unveiled curiosity.

I nodded, tucking the letter away, lips pressed.

"I should go reply," I informed her, motioning to Nightshade who flew to my arm. "Was there anything else you needed, Grandmother?"

"Yes, actually," she picked up a thin tattered book, "I want you to read this."

I accepted it curiously, hand moving over the old leather. "What is it?"

Her eyes glinted with pride. "It is a... history book of our name, in a sense. I think you will find it very interesting. You may be dismissed." With that vague explanation she went back to work.

Intrigued, I retreated to my room. Sitting among the many pillows before the hearth I carefully planned out my letter, reviewing it twice, before sending Nightshade off with it. I hoped that Mother would overcome her anger soon. I was only following her teachings, after all, and a possibility as heir was much better than anything else my parents could have offered me.

Shrugging, I turned my attention back to the small book I had brought with me. Opening the cover, I discovered that it was obviously very old, due to the fact that the pages were yellowing and frail. I could even sense the protection spells laid heavily over it; it must have been a very prized possession.

Reaching the first worded page, I stared at the words blankly, attempting to interpret the slanted handwriting. When I finally did, I gasped in surprise. It was a diary, an especially old one.

Richard gave me this ridiculous thing in an attempt to entertain my mind as I adjust to our new home. We just recently built this castle as an extension of the old one, since it was destroyed. I hate it. The woods here are... strange. There are many creatures, both ordinary and magical, that live within the overgrown and wild forest. Gerard attempted to capture some of them upon the stonework outside the castle. It turned out magnificent as always, my brother should have been an artist. Ironic, isn't it? That an exile can be so talented in ways outside of The Tempted.

Richard hates when I use that word - exile. He claims that we are merely in hiding, but I know better. We can never return to the wizarding world, at least not yet. Perhaps my children will, one day when the council accepts the taint that a Tempted can bring to magic. I may not have been captured, but I might as well be. I feel trapped. The woods around me that Richard and Gerard have found so intriguing seem more like guardians to me. Ah, my husband is now looking at me suspiciously. I must have been scowling. I can't help but feel angered at our current situation.

If we had it all to do over again, I would still follow Richard to the ends of the earth. I love him. But that is what got me into this mess to begin with, isn't it? Our tale will probably be told centuries from now, written down in history books as the Masters of the Taint. I can't help but regret that it will be told without the passion, adventure, mystery, love, or temptation that accompanied it. No one could ever possibly understand it. Therefore, I will write of it myself in this journal. Richard probably didn't intend for me to tell of the thing that has given me so much hurt and joy, but I will. For it is because of it that I have become who I am - a mistress of the darkness. Someday, someone will look back on this journal and read the story of my life with all its trials, errors, and glorious moments. For this is the story of Esteria Exmoor-Parkinson...

The tale that infolded was one that held me within its enthralling grasp. I read about a mysterious and beautiful woman named, Esteria, who became engaged to the dashing, debonair Lord Parkinson. It was a passionate romance that made me sigh with longing as I read on to their trials.

Back in those times, the wizard council was suppressing their beliefs and they fought hard to defend them. They dabbled in what they called the tainted and joined an elite order dubbed The Tempted. Members of that order appreciated and respected them for their powers, bestowing amazing gifts and riches upon the couple. Then, the Revolt broke out and they were engaged in war for five years, going through heartache after heartache as all they had accomplished crumpled before their eyes.

They were proud and determined, however, even after losing the war. They decided to retreat to Esteria's old family estate, having lost their previous home. Esteria claimed to grow restless and agitated within the forest, spiteful of its entreating presence as it guarded their sanctuary.

And here I sit upon the upper floor of our palace. It is a palace that I have dreamed of since I was a girl, that is for sure, and yet I am not content. I miss the open skies of the place I will always call home, the place where I first kissed my beloved. This will be the home of my first child, however, for as I finally draw to an end of my tale some six months later, I discover that I am pregnant. Richard will be thrilled, of course, for we hadn't dared to have children during the Revolt.

I admit to looking forward to the birth of my first. It will bring me some pleasure in the misery of imprisonment. My son, for I am determined to have a boy, will be in the highest order of the Tempted. I know that he will love the taint almost as much as myself. It is a day I look forward to... the day he claims the title, Master of Darkness.

When I finally finished the diary I yawned tiredly, not realizing that I had read into the early hours of the morning. Moving, I winced as my stiff limbs tingled into painful awareness. Changing into my pajamas, I extinguished the torches and climbed into my bed, sinking into it's softness with a sigh. As tired as I was, I found sleep impossible and my mind whirled with thoughts of my too-many-greats-grandmother. She had seemed so passionate, with a zealous flare for life.

It seemed strange that wizards and witches of nowadays had to be less emotional within themselves. The life I had just read about mesmerized me in its appeal of defiance and allure. Sleep captured me soon afterwards to take me off into dreams of beautiful heroines and dashing lords.

*~*

My summer spent at Grandmother's was one that was never idle. It was grand, interesting, appealing and frustrating all at once.

"No more of this lazy dawdling or book reading," she declared with a sniff, three weeks after I had moved in. "You are to be productive from now on."

Productive was seen as helping her manage accounts, getting fit for my expanding wardrobe, or going through tiring, and in my opinion, redundant lessons. Supposedly, everything I had been taught was wrong. I wasn't suppose to chase after powerful alliances, I was suppose to let them come to me.

She called it "essence" for lack of a better word; the skill of walking into a room and instantly making people see what I wanted them to see, without the appearance of taking on a mask. The woman was utterly insane and I told her so later on in the summer after an agonizing lesson.

"This is insane!" I snapped. "I just don't get it. How can I expect them to come to me, if I don't even let them know I'm interested!"

Grandmother took a sip of her tea, face calm. "The smart ones always go for the powerful people," she commented.

I snorted. Powerful indeed! I hardly felt powerful. Grandmother always made me feel the errant chick that was raised by the ducks for too long. Standing, she moved towards me gracefully.

"Stop slouching," she ordered, moving to twitch out the wrinkles of my newest robes.

The whole wardrobe was elaborate in a tasteful way that practically screamed "Grandmother!" Where my own mother had gone for the newest fashions and most expensive pieces, my newest robes were simple and elegant in beautiful fabrics. Most of them appeared older with elaborate embroidery and some beadwork, yet had a flare of new in the style. While they weren't terrible, I couldn't help yearning for the newest, flashier trends.

Grandmother had laughed when I told her so. "Your mother's daughter to the end," she had replied, causing me to glare. "No, Pansy. I am going to see that at least someone in this family, besides myself, doesn't follow the blind masses of horrendously dressed witches."

I blinked as the memory dissipated with Grandmother's disapproved muttering. Stepping away with a last twitch of the robes, she said, "Too bad that you don't have a better figure. Ah well, my sister was a late bloomer too."

Not able to think of a suitable reply, I went to the tea service and poured myself a cup. I was starting to get a pounding headache after hours of lessons.

Sensing my exhaustion, Grandmother ordered me to sit while she fetched something. She returned minutes later, carrying a slim box.

"Do you know what week it is?" she questioned.

I shrugged. I had lost track after the first two.

"It's time for your return home. Zella will get married next week, and you are to have a one week stay with your parents."

My expression brightened at the thought and she chuckled. "I'm sure that you will relish your time away from me. However, I have something I would give you before you go. After the wedding you will return to Hogwarts."

I nodded, suddenly becoming very interested in the box. Smiling, she opened it for me to stare at a simple but pretty necklace. On the slim gold chain hung a token shaped into the family sigil; a sapphire and diamond formed out the star and crescent moon, while a ruby, which had been intricately cut, shaped out a perfect rose.

"Roseguard-Parkinson," I murmured softly.

"Correct," she answered. "You are my heir, after all. It is only right that you represent it as well."

I refrained from asking if this was a token to taunt my mother and instead accepted it greedily. As I snapped it on she watched with amusement. "Traditionally it should be a ring," she explained. "But I do not approve of large and expensive jewelry on children."

I couldn't help frowning at her definition of me. She had claimed me an inappropriately blooming young adult throughout the entire summer of lessons and now I was a child again?

"You will receive the ring on your sixteenth birthday," she continued on. "This will do until, it is appropriately modest for you. Esteria would approve." The last was added so softly I was not meant to hear it.

After she gave me the journal weeks ago she had refused to speak on it and would change the subject every time I attempted to. Now, she looked at me with intense eyes, reading by my expression that I had heard her.

"So what did you think of it, Pansy?"

I inhaled softly, all of my built up thoughts swirling up at once. I finally settled on the best description. "It was wonderful. I loved it!"

Her eyes glittered with something I couldn't read. "Truly?" Seeing the earnestness in my face she nodded. "That is well then."

"Why?"

She smiled. "Because you have not been completely ruined by your mother. I was hoping this was so."

I scowled at her, I had endured many of her insults to my mother over the summer. "Oh? How so?"

Grandmother shook her head. "Not now. There is too much to do before you leave. I would ask what you thought of the magic though?"

Hesitantly, I answered, "It was the Dark Arts, wasn't it?"

Looking pleased she nodded. "Yes, the very beginning of it. Before it was called Dark Arts, it was known as the taint."

"That would mean The Tempted were Death Eaters!" I exclaimed.

Her eyes darkened. "No..." she paused, "not precisely. But like I said, it is too long a story to tell you now. To bed with you. You leave in the morning for your parents and after that Hogwarts."

The mood she had instantly donned was suddenly shrugged off like an old cloak. Looking up at me as I stood, she said, "I look forward to seeing you at Christmas. Remember all that you have done this summer and try not to make me regret my decision of pronouncing an heir too much."

I made a face. "Yes, Grandmother."

I hesitated before bending to give her a peck on the cheek. She smiled pleasantly, patting my hand fondly. "Good night, dear."

*~*

"My lord!" Mother exclaimed after my enthusiastic greeting. "What has she been feeding you?"

I blushed as she took in my form. Mother had always wanted me to maintain a weight that bordered being too skinny. Grandmother had insisted, with a scathing lecture, that I gain more to become, as she had dubbed it - endearingly plump.

"I will have none of that paltry Houflin figure in this house!" she had snapped.

I still couldn't remember the argument without a wince. My scalded ears must have smoked for days afterwards. And now I couldn't be viewed any where near what my mother declared was petite, I was plump.

Clucking to herself, Mother's eyes fell on my exposed necklace and her expression darkened. To stem off her angry words, I immediately asked, "How is Zella?"

Practically having to swallow her words, she replied, "Well, of course. She's going over last minute fittings for her gown upstairs. I assume that Victoria has seen you properly outfitted for the wedding?"

"Of course, Mother," I replied, as Peter moved to take my bags to my old rooms.

She pursed her lips, but simply nodded. "And where is Victoria?"

I hesitated before saying, "She sends her blessing and well wishes along with the gifts. She asked me to represent her, however."

Mother's eyes widened and I barely escaped a well brandished lecture as Father entered.

"Father!" I cried, happier than ever to see him.

Smiling, he ran an approving eye over me. "You seem to be doing well at Esteria."

I nodded slightly, aware of Mother's eyes boring into my back.

"I have to go greet Zella!" I said, wanting to leave before Mother exploded. He nodded a dismissal and I skipped to my sister's room, rejoicing in the fact that I had successfully avoided a confrontation with Mother.

Wanting to surprise my sister, I quietly cracked her door open. The sight inside instantly caused my jaw to drop. Zella, who was clad in a gorgeous gown of white, its folds pooling at her feet, was in the arms of Neil Lestrange. He had her pulled tightly against him in a passionate kiss. Heat invaded my face in a scandalous blush as I shut the door as quickly and quietly as possible.

I practically ran to my room, the scene playing over and over in my mind. Zella's hands softly caressing his neck as Neil reached up with a slow hand to cup the back of her head. I was going to be sick, I just knew it.

*~*

My week spent at home was miserable. Mother would hardly speak two words to me, no matter my attempts at conversation. As for Zella, lets just say that she was very curious about me blushing every time I saw her. Therefore, I spent most of my time reviewing the renovations that had been completed in my absence. The new additions only served to further my misery.

The gardens were beautiful, with heavily blooming flowers and sweet smelling roses. New statues filled the hedges and spurting fountains added a glorious air to the pathways. But I found that I missed my favorite bench, which had been replaced by a large pavilion.

The sitting rooms were all refurnished and decorated. One in particular that I had spent hours in as a child, was almost beyond recognition. Zella and I used to drape sheets in here and create our own fabric castles. Where was the burn from our candle years ago, or the footrest we had dubbed as the glorious dragon, Eleanor?

I didn't even have the heart to go into the new ballroom. For some reason Esteria was becoming more and more like home and I hated it. I hated the fact that I didn't feel welcome and comfortable in the house I had grown up in. I loathed that tonight Neal was taking my sister away. And I couldn't fathom why everybody acted as if they didn't care!

Never having experienced this misplacement before, I went somewhere I knew hadn't changed.

*~*

It seemed like years since I last stepped into the stables on our property. They were the exact same as they had been since I last saw them. I sighed in relief, also taking in the familiar smells of dust, horse, and manure - at the last my nose wrinkled. But mercifully, it was the same.

Twenty stalls lined the cleanly swept aisle. The musty air filled with the sounds of contented munching as the large beasts ate their hay. I was surprised to find that on the day of my sister's wedding, Father was in the stables. He was brushing a handsome pair of dappled grey horses.

"Father," I said, walking forward.

He smiled at me, brandishing a brush. "So, what do you think?" he asked with pride.

I looked them over appraisingly, taking in the big bone structure and massive bodies that were trademarks of the Aethonans.

"Their perfect," I breathed with admiration.

His grin widened. "They are my wedding gift to Zella and Neil. The Lestranges' don't have anything to compare with these two."

Suddenly glum, I nodded. Could I never escape this wedding?

Apparently not, for Father was motioning for the stable boys to finish. Taking my arm he led me away, back to the manor and the fate that awaited my sister.

*~*

Grandmother had allowed me to pick my own dress robes for the wedding with the condition that she approved of it. It had been a grueling and tiresome task before coming up with something that we both could agree on. It was decided on dark purple robes that fell down to hover an inch above the ground. Light, beaded embroidery covered the bodice and edges of the skirt, as the sleeves gathered at my elbows to fall in long folds.

I absolutely loved it, except for the embroidery. I had only relented with Grandmother on it because she had allowed me to have the newest style of sleeves. She had declared them positively absurd, but allowed it none the less. As always, a modest neckline allowed for my necklace to be proudly displayed at the base of my neck.

Admiring it in the mirror, my oval face tilted out at me, complete with arching brows, a small pursed mouth and dark blue eyes. The ebony curls, which always remained a constant curse upon me as I attempted to control them, had been cunningly styled by one of Zella's friends. They now strained at an intricate braid she had spun into a weave that gathered behind my head, a few strands escaped at my temples and neck. I sighed, you couldn't have everything.

My dark looks had obviously come from my father, with the short figure from my mother. My nose- which just at the thought started to flatten- was inherited from Grandmother. Of course only something inherited from her could truly be annoying.

And, as she had repeatedly pointed out over the summer, I had no figure to speak of, and the result was looking like a very pretty girl.

Looking around the powder room with envy at the other beauties, I couldn't help comparing myself to my sister. Zella was simply gorgeous in her white silk gown, with an off the shoulder style that set off smooth sun-kissed skin. Her brown curls were drawn up elegantly with trailing tendrils that framed her face, complete with a glowing smile and flashing blue eyes. She was the spitting image of our beautiful mother.

Glaring back at myself in the mirror I decided that I hated being thirteen. It wasn't an unfamiliar thought. I always wanted to be older than I was. It was difficult not to when you lived around someone as perfect as Zella.

"Oh, Pansy!" Zella exclaimed, with an excited smile. "You look simply beautiful!"

Instantly feeling guilty, I smiled at my sister weakly. "Thanks. You look amazing."

I was being truthful. Zella blushed, making even that look pretty, before turning at Mother's call. "Zella dear, are you ready? The ceremony is about to start."

*~*

The wedding was magical, literally. After saying ceremonious words Zella and Neil both crossed their wands and took oaths to each other, pledging to forever fulfill the other half and whatever other rubbish they had written to each other. The worst part of it for me was the bonding a wand oath ensued; it was inescapable and now so was Neil.

They kissed right as the sun set on the water behind them, beginning the seal of their lives together. I couldn't help but blush at the rather chaste kiss as it brought another, much more passionate one to mind. They both looked happy as they faced the applauding two hundred guests... so in love.

I wondered if it would endure. Zella had seemed sincere enough at Hogwarts, and it was seldom that arranged marriages failed; no matter how much I thought they should. It just seemed wrong to force others together into intimate circumstances. But my evidence lacked in that I didn't know anyone unhappy in their marriage.

Zella was certainly deeply in love with her husband. My parents could be caught being tenderly affectionate to each other. Even my best friend, Millicent, seemed to accept her betrothal without grudge. I assumed that it was because arranged marriages typically took place within the same circles or with similar families.

I was moving towards the ballroom to congratulate my sister when I caught sight of a familiar face.

"Tracey!" I called out.

She walked towards me eagerly, looking very Slytherin-ish in green dress robes that brought out the color in her hazel eyes. At her side pranced Daphne, also resplendent in blue dress robes.

"It was sooo beautiful Pansy," Daphne crooned, forever the romantic. "I hope my wedding is just like this one!"

Tracey laughed. "As if you would ever be able to decide on just one husband!"

Glaring at her best friend, Daphne opened her mouth angrily before someone cut her off.

"Ladies," a voice murmured in greeting.

I smiled at Theodore Nott, who had Millicent on one arm and was clad in red dress robes. I studied them intently, unable to resist the urge to watch them together in public. They seemed comfortable with each other, but not romantically so. Their families obvious expectations were viewed more as a practical thing which they never seemed aware except times such as now.

"How were your summers?" Theodore asked idly, obviously not as excited over the wedding as the girls.

I noted with amusement the slight hitch in his voice, which was beginning to change and deepen.

"My family went to Paris," Tracey informed us. "It was amazing, and very historic, you know. The wizarding street there was marvelous. You wouldn't believe the shops-"

I listened to her descriptions of wizarding Paris attentively until I noticed Theodore whisper something to Millicent before walking off. Following his direction I saw Draco across the ballroom, a black figure among golden columns.

Noticing me, he smirked and nodded once before walking away with Theodore. Affronted that he hadn't come to greet me, I returned to the conversation with a toss of my head.

"Girls," Millicent said, grabbing our attention later on in the evening, "here comes my brother. I've been dying for you all to meet him."

Interested, I watched the approaching wizard. He was tall and tapered, walking with an easy, confident stride. While he wasn't the most handsome man I had ever seen, his lazy arrogance added a certain appeal that suited him. Slightly long blonde hair fell into brown eyes and his nose was a little too big for good looks. But when he smiled at his sister it seemed perfect.

"Millicent," he called, "Mother sent me over to inquire about where Theodore was. It is now my duty to make sure he stays glued to your side."

He grinned down at his sister as she rolled her eyes. "Forget that for now." Looping her arm through his, she continued, "Stephen, I would like you to meet my friends from Hogwarts: Tracey, Daphne, and Pansy. Girls, this is my insufferable brother, Stephen."

"Hey," he protested, giving her a hurt look. "I prefer protective older brother!"

Millicent smiled innocently at him. "As protective as a puppy, dear."

I giggled, causing the wizard to look at me sharply. "You must be the one that Millicent was raving about last summer." He inclined his head. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I am sorry we haven't had a chance to meet before this."

With a last smile for Tracey and special wink for Daphne, who was staring, he turned towards his sister. "Now that I have done my brotherly duty and reprimanded you, make sure you find Theodore."

He walked off the join a group of wizards around his age.

"Wow!" Tracey breathed appreciatively, as Daphne continued to stare after him, blinking furiously.

She suddenly rounded on Millicent, demanding, "How old is he?"

"Too old for you," she replied with a chuckle. "He'll be twenty in November."

Undeterred, Daphne looked at the laughing group of attractive witches and wizards with longing.

"What would poor Blaise say?" Tracey daunted evilly.

I laughed as Daphne threw her friend a heated glare. The rest of the night passed in a blur as it was filled with dinner, dancing, laughter and fun.

"How was your summer?" I asked Vincent later that evening as he led me across the dance floor.

The large boy was a surprisingly good dancer. Unfortunately, his conversation skills were lacking as he grunted something. I sighed, he was probably only dancing because Mrs. Crabbe had been shooting him murderous looks from across the room.

I moved away with the ending of the dance to freeze in surprise. Stephen Bulstrode stood nearby, watching me with dark eyes before bowing elegantly.

"May I?" he inquired, holding out a hand.

Wondering if a certain blonde friend of mine was behind this, I accepted hesitantly. He twirled me across the floor with ease, his hand warm on my waist.

Blushing slightly, I asked, "Did Millicent-"

"Ask me to dance with you?" he finished for me, grinning as my blush deepened. "No, actually. I simply wanted to better acquaint myself with the newest Parkinson heir."

I stared at him. "How did you know?"

His eyes traveled to my throat, where my forgotten necklace lay. "Roseguard-Parkinson," he commented. "I must admit I was surprised. Millicent hadn't said anything about it."

"It was decided this summer," I replied to his unspoken question. "Are the Bulstrodes part of the Superior Houses?"

"No," he answered, "but I have friends that travel in those circles. My best friend, Laizim MacNair, is a Superior House heir. He was the one who first noticed your sigil."

Unable to think of anything else to say, I concentrated on the dance. When it ended he drew my hand to his lips. "Thank you for the honor, young Miss Parkinson. I am sure I will be hearing from you again."

I watched as he strode away, Grandmother's words filtering through my mind. The smart ones always go for the most powerful.

I blushed again. This was getting absurd!

Caught up in my thoughts, I didn't noticed Draco until a warm presence appeared at my side. Looking up, I caught him watching after the departing wizard with a dark look. I sighed, exasperated. He hadn't paid any attention to me all night and now that I was dancing with an attractive, not to mention older, wizard, he was there in an instant. How typical.

"Can we talk?" he asked, eyes not wavering from his glower.

"Sure," I replied, suddenly tired of dancing. "Where would you like to go?"

He led me to the gardens.

We walked in silence for a while, as Draco brooded. The only sound remaining was that of our footsteps on the gravel path and the music from the ball, wafting gently out into the warm night.

So absorbed in my thoughts was I, that I started when Draco spoke.

"Neil was telling me," he began, "that you don't get along with him."

Scowling, I snapped, "And?"

"I just find it interesting that you turn away those you can profit the most from."

I watched him warily, we had never discussed alliances and politics before.

"Oh?" I replied. "Who else have I turned away that would be such a great accomplice?"

While the night shadowed much of his face, I caught a glimpse of moonlight shining on silver eyes. "Malfoy is a powerful house," he hinted.

I looked at him sharply. "Is there a point to this?"

He grinned. "It just seems a shame that all our possibilities should go to waste."

"What possibilities?" I smirked. "I hate you."

He laughed again. "But that's the point. What a waste. Just think of what we could accomplish together!"

Unable to resist toying with his pride I asked, "What makes you think I don't have a similar, perhaps better offer?"

"Who?" He seemed unconcerned. "Crabbe or Goyle aren't smart enough to think about it. Nott is too busy entertaining his fan club and Zabini isn't into our type of politics."

I snorted. I suspected that Draco knew as little about his parents' loyalties as I did mine. All I had were confused suspicions, especially after the diary.

"What about Stephen Bulstrode," I added, teasingly.

He froze mid-step, turning towards me with a scowl. "He is way too old for you!" he said so vehemently that I laughed.

My laughter abruptly stopped as he took a step closer to me, the warmth of his body pressing into my own. Surprised, I looked up into intense grey eyes.

Unsettled I snapped, "Is there a reason behind all this?"

"I am offering a... partnership," he explained, looking down on me in amusement.

I glared at him, but it lacked its usual effect. His nearness was causing my spine to tingle in a sensation I had never experienced.

"I-I-I can't," I stammered. "Although you might not be aware of it, I have obligations that restrict-"

He waved away my excuse. "I know all about that. I'm a Malfoy, remember?"

I stared at him, silently berating myself at my stupidity. Of course the Malfoys would circulate through the best of social classes.

"Don't think I'll take orders or become your slave," I warned with another attempt at a deadly look.

"Of course not," he said, unperturbed. "I mentioned a partnership didn't I?"

I nodded absently. How could he possibly be getting any closer? There was hardly a hairsbreadth between us.

"We would have to work out the details," I pointed out.

"It's just a truce, Pansy." He gave an exasperated sigh. "View it as a way to... help each other. Except this way we don't have to go through all that melodramatic pretending."

"So I could still hate you," I said blithely.

He smirked. "Exactly."

"Fine," I agreed, decisively. "You can consider us partners from here on."

Looking up at him with a smile, I quickly read the intent in his triumphant eyes. I moved away just in time as he attempted to steal a kiss. I might not be sure what I was feeling, but I was definitely not going to allow that! Not yet, at least.

Grinning innocently at his irritated scowl, I added, "Oh and by the way, consider this a business arrangement only."

Artist that he was, the scowl immediately disappeared to be replaced with a cocky smirk of his own. Instead, he reached out and took my hand to tuck it under his arm and lead me back towards the ball.

"I have a feeling this will have interesting results," he commented.

"Undoubtedly," I replied. "Imagine with my brain and my name-"

"Don't you mean with my brain and my name and my influence," he interrupted.

"No," I countered, "I meant my brain. Don't worry though, you'll catch on fast."

When we entered the ballroom once more it was arm and arm, steps matching perfectly. I had a suspicion that it was a partnership we would both rely heavily upon throughout the coming years.

*~*

It felt odd to be boarding the Hogwarts Express days afterwards without Zella. Moving towards the back of the train where the Slytherins normally sat I caught sight of a familiar figure.

"Blaise!" I called out, not having seen my friend since last school year.

Turning, he grinned when his eyes settled on me.

"How are you?" I asked, after winding my way through the mass of students between us.

"Good," he answered, continuing down the train at my side. "Yourself?"

"Great! I feel like I haven't seen you in ages. Why don't you come sit with us?"

I gestured towards the compartment where Millicent, Theodore, and Draco could be seen. Vincent and Gregory were already lumbering off in search of the food cart. Blaise hesitated, causing me to frown.

"Actually," he admitted, "I already have a compartment with some other people. I'll see you later, though."

Nodding, I watched as he continued down the train to another compartment. I had noticed that Blaise would leave whenever I started to hang with our usual gang; which normally consisted of the three in the compartment and sometimes Tracey or Daphne. He had always done this, even before his incident with Draco last year. Most commonly, he sought me out when I was only with Tracey or Millicent, but never with one of the guys.

Shrugging, I moved into the compartment hearing Draco say, "... disgusting display on his part."

Millicent, who was listening attentively, looked like she was a barely managing from laughing in his face. Theodore was immersed in a book, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. They all looked up as I entered and Millicent broke into a conspiratorial smile.

"Hello, Pansy." She gave my name special emphasis. Draco glowered at her.

Looking at them suspiciously, I seat myself next to her. "What's going on?"

Her grin widened sweetly. "Oh, nothing. Just the usual."

I frowned irritably at her newly acquired cheerfulness. Sniffing, I stood on my seat to check on Nightshade in the rack above us. The hawk was pruning feathers restlessly; she hated traveling. Rechecking that her cage was secure, I slipped back down into my seat.

Noticing Millicent and Theodore trading knowing looks, I shifted uncomfortably. Draco left soon afterwards, muttering something about finding Crabbe and Goyle.

"Have you seen the newest edition of Witch's Weekly?" Millicent asked, breaking the silence.

I shook my head, moving closer as she dug through her bag. We were completely absorbed in the magazine long after the train had started when Draco stormed in, muttering something about a professor. I assumed that his latest attempt at taunting Potter had been thwarted. After Crabbe and Goyle followed him into the compartment, he slammed the door angrily.

Nightshade, who had been sleeping, immediately started squawking loudly, feathers flying down from above.

"Shut up that bloody bird, Pansy!" Draco snapped.

Glaring at him indignantly, I stood on my seat to console my startled bird. A few moments later she began to settle down, rustling her feathers. Turning, I stepped down right as the train screeched to a halt, throwing me off balance.

I landed in an undignified sprawl, with a painful elbow bumping my head and a twist of my foot.

"Ow!" I cried loudly, before the lights winked out.

"What's happening?" Millicent screeched, frantically.

"Be quiet!" a voice snapped, a voice surprisingly near my ear. I winced. I had landed right on Draco.

"Pansy?"

He began to shift me in his lap, unintentionally jarring my hurt foot. I let out a small whimper of pain and he immediately stopped.

"Are you alright?" I could hear his voice vibrate in his chest beneath me.

I nodded, before remembering that he couldn't see me. "Yes," I answered, untangling myself from him carefully. "I hurt my foot, though."

It was rather cramped in the compartment with the six of us, leaving me stranded in his lap.

"The train must have broken down," Theodore said, somewhere from the darkness on my left.

I turned to look at him, my eyes beginning to adjust to the dark. I could make out the dim faces of my comrades. As my vision continued to adjust I saw my now vacant seat. I moved forward, but a strong arm snaked around my waist, preventing me from leaving.

Shifting, I turned towards Draco angrily.

"Don't go," he said quietly, his face inches from my own. "You might hurt your foot worse."

"I'll suffer," I muttered irritably.

I sensed him smile, before withdrawing his arm. Relieved, I slid in next to Millicent. I could hear students start calling to each other throughout the train.

"Shouldn't someone get a prefect?" Gregory asked timidly. I barely heard him as the rain that had been falling for hours suddenly pounded on the roof overhead with renewed vigor. I shivered, it was getting very cold.

"I don't like this..." Millicent began, before choking off her words. Silence had suddenly swept across the train, conversations ceasing among the students. I huddled in my cloak as the cold intensified.

Nightshade started to squawk loudly again, but I ignored her. Something was coming closer... something horrible. A shadow moved outside the compartment, the figure distorted through the glass. It paused, turning towards us, before moving on, attention focused elsewhere. The cold remained long after its departure.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, shocked when it was released as a sob. Blaming it on my throbbing foot, I scrubbed at my cheeks furiously, ashamed I had been crying. The train started forward a few minutes later and the lights flickered on. No one commented on the terrified silence that had gripped us. Just as no one commented if they saw my wet cheeks or noticed that Millicent and Theodore were holding each other's hands for comfort.

The memory of horrible desperation that had accompanied the dark figure was something I would never forget. From the look in my friends' eyes, I didn't think they would either.

*~*

To my immense displeasure upon my arrival at Hogwarts I was immediately conducted to the hospital wing. I missed most of the welcoming feast as Madam Pomfrey clucked over my ankle, which was officially declared broken.

"This will not be the end of it," she muttered to herself, examining my bruised foot carefully. "Mark my words, I will see many more injured students in here due to those creatures!"

Just the thought of them made me shiver. "What are they? And why were they on the train?"

Scowling, the nurse explained, "Dementors. They'll be searching the grounds and Hogsmeade for Sirius Black." Taking out her wand she added, "This may hurt a bit."

I nodded, holding my breath as she pointed it at my swollen foot. Pain enveloped my ankle, making me gasp as light flared around it briefly and then nothing.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked me, probing it gently.

"No," I replied, smiling.

Meeting my eyes sternly for affirmation she finally nodded. "Broken bones are always the easiest to mend. Now mind that you don't go running up and down the stairs first chance you get. That ankle will need to gain strength, it will!"

I nodded obediently, making to get off the bed. "Take some of this with you," she ordered, handing me a wrapper.

Opening it curiously, I looked at her questioningly - chocolate?

She smiled kindly, the action lighting up her wrinkled face. "You look as pale as death, dear. That should make you feel better."

"Thanks," I said, moving towards my common room.

Having missed dinner, I immediately took a bite of the chocolate. Amazingly enough, I did feel better!

*~*

Our first week back at Hogwarts passed quickly, if not normally. The Dementors that now haunted the school borders made emotions tense throughout the school, as students were distracted and staff stressed. As always, Hogwarts still managed to function and we all soon settled into our new routines, ignoring the fearsome shadows that lurked at the edges of our minds.

Draco seemed to be enjoying it all immensely, especially after discovering that Potter had fainted on the train in the presence of the Dementors. He walked around for days afterwards, falling at the Gryffindor's feet in a practiced faint every time they saw each other.

The professors tackled the students' uneasiness by increasing our homework, as if more homework would be the answer to all our problems. Due to this, I was locked away in my dormitory one Friday in September, frowning at my History of Magic essay. Even I could tell that it was rather pathetic. Frustrated, I tossed it away from me, deciding to work on something I actually liked.

I was just digging out my Potions book when Tracey and Daphne walked into our dormitory.

Daphne fell on her bed with a sigh, brown hair spread out around her. "I'm in love," she declared.

I grinned at her. Tracey rolled her eyes, walking past us into the bathroom.

"Oh?" I replied. "Who is it this time?"

Propping her head up on an elbow, she smiled mischievously. "Nathan," she practically sang the name.

My jaw dropped. "Nathan Moon?"

Her eyes narrowed, suspiciously. "Yes."

I immediately snapped my mouth shut. Nathan Moon had to be the quietest boy I had ever met in my life. I don't remember him ever speaking to me, although I encountered him rarely since he was a fourth year. I could only imagine his mortification if someone as aggressive as Daphne approached him.

"How long has this been going on?" I asked, amazed. We had only been at school for two weeks.

She giggled. "Yesterday."

Tracey emerged from the bathroom. "And just wait till you see them together!"

Daphne glowered at us as we broke into laughter.

When we emerged for dinner later that evening, I smiled as Daphne practically pounced on poor Nathan. "Good evening," she greeted, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Nathan glanced around at the astonished common room, his cheeks flaming. Tracey and I laughed all the way down to dinner. It was sort of cute, really.

*~*

"Draco, do you think you could get off your lazy ass and help me?" I demanded, turning towards him.

He shrugged, giving me a grin. "I'll only get in the way."

Glaring at him, mostly because he was right, I returned to our boiling cauldron. A quick look around the dark room showed that so far I was ahead of everyone else. Professor Snape hovered near the Gryffindors, snapping orders at a trembling Longbottom while giving Finnigan and Thomas a scathing lecture.

I smirked in amusement before adding the last of my onion shavings. I watched expectantly as the potion turned from murky green to a clear, bubbling liquid that gave off a slightly bitter smell. Setting it aside to cool before I placed it in the vial, I returned to studying those around me.

Blaise and Tracey weren't too far behind, they were just now stirring in the powdered whalesfang.

"No, Ronald!" a nearby voice hissed.

I turned in surprise to see that Granger and Weasley were fighting over one of the bottles of ingredients. I was even more surprised to realize that they were also almost complete with their potion.

"You can't add that yet! The fernspores have to go before the whalefang!" Granger was explaining. "Can't you read?"

I almost pitied her for her thickheaded companion, but only almost.

"I did read it, Hermione!" he protested. "Look it says right there to add whalefang next."

"Fine," the brunette snapped, releasing the vial so that Weasley stumbled backwards. "But you have to grind it into a powder anyway!" With that she promptly dumped the fernspores into the cauldron before he could protest.

"Ten minutes!" Snape barked to the class, finally moving away from a relieved Longbottom. His voice made me jump, looking away from the irritable Gryffindors.

I busied myself with cleaning up our area as the Potions Master paused at our table.

"Very well done, Miss Parkinson, " he drawled. "Twenty points to Slytherin."

I looked up at him in surprise. True, Professor Snape was always favoring his own house's students, but he never gave out praises without the Gryffindors within hearing. This had been said quietly and only for those nearest to me to hear.

Blushing slightly at the praise I said, "Thank you, sir."

Looking at my partner, the professor scowled. "You really could benefit from at least appearing to be interested, Mister Malfoy."

Draco immediately straightened, frowning at the out of character rebuke. Turning on his heel Professor Snape immediately returned to the Gryffindor side of the room. "Your time is up!" he called out, moving among their cauldrons eagerly.

"Longbottom, I don't even know what it is you have created... Wrong again, Miss Patil, stir slower next time... Potter! Stop smirking and clean that up, don't even bother turning it in." He paused as he came upon Granger and Weasley's cauldron. "Poorly done," he decided after staring into it for many moments, "it shouldn't have any film throughout it. Therefore, it can't be considered clear."

The two students glared at his back as Professor Snape continued on down the row. I couldn't help but look over at them with consideration. Poorly done, he had said. If you took away Professor Snape's hate of the Gryffindors that could almost be close enough to a - very well done.

I sneered at the thought of a Mudblood comparing with myself... that just would not do. The thought set me in a foul mood for the rest of the class and as we left for Herbology I pushed past Granger angrily.

"Watch where you're going," I snapped.

She blushed in embarrassment as her two lover boys swelled with rage at her side.

"Watch it yourself, Parkinson!" Weasley snapped, his earlier irritation with his friend forgotten. "I suppose it's a little hard to see around that flat nose of yours, though. Planning on having pugs for children?"

I gaped at him in astonishment. This was my first real confrontation with the "Golden Gryffindors" and I hadn't realized what a tongue the ignorant prat had on him.

Enraged and more than mortified, I retorted, "Don't worry. The only witch brave enough to suffer through litters of ugly children would be your mother!"

Weasley reddened angrily, moving towards me as my friends immediately flanked me. Draco and Blaise stepped up on either side of me, while Potter and Granger effectively held back their friend.

"Hey," Blaise pointed out logically, "you know you started it."

"Bloody hell, I started it!" the red head spat angrily.

"Don't bother, Zabini," Draco said with a derisive sneer for the Gryffindor. "It's a Weasley family trait. They never remember anything past the last three minutes. Why do you think his parents have so many of them?"

I laughed loudly.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" Weasley roared at his friends, now attempting to lunge at us.

"Weasley!"

Even I almost managed to wince as Professor Snape emerged from his classroom, drawn out by the noise. "That is thirty house points from Gryffindor. And do contain yourself!" he exclaimed lividly.

"Severus," another voice interrupted and this time I did wince.

McGonagall strode over to us, shooting her errant Gryffindors a "shut up and behave" look.

"I believe that Mister Weasley was being provoked," she explained, her look leaving no doubts as to who she thought was in the wrong here.

"Stop coddling your Gryffindors, Minerva," he replied, with a scowl. "I caught Ron Weasley red handed in the act of trying to attack another student! That warrants a detention!"

"Miss Parkinson was being unforgivably rude to him. That also warrants a detention."

"Fine," Professor Snape replied. Turning to us, he said, "Mister Weasley, Miss Parkinson, detention for both of you in my office tonight."

I stared at him. The Gryffindors stared at him. Draco and Blaise stared at him. Hell, even McGonagall stared at him. Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, was giving me a detention!

Unable to say he was being unfair, McGonagall nodded tensely before shooing her disgruntled Gryffindors off.

"Professor," I protested.

He looked down on me sternly. "Get to class," he ordered, before returning to his dank classroom.

We looked at each other dumbly.

"I don't believe it," I shrieked, "he just gave a Slytherin a detention. His own house!"

"Come on," Draco said, pulling on my arm gently. "We're going to be late for class."

As we made our way outside and towards the greenhouses I noticed that Draco and Blaise had placed myself between them. Each had a hand on one of my arms and were ushering me along as they shot each other questioning glances above my head.

Not for the first time, I mused about why they never hung out together. Today had been the first time where they ever truly came to one another's aid as they helped me fend off the troublesome Gryffindors. It had been the only Slytherin thing to do, helping a housemate and all, and so it had come naturally.

But now it seemed that they were at odds again. As we neared the greenhouses I noticed with confusion that Draco must have won some silent contest they were having. When we moved into the greenhouse, Blaise nodded slightly before releasing my arm and falling behind.

I looked back at him with a raised brow, but he just smiled at me innocently. Scowling, I shrugged off Draco's arm and walked to a table without either of them.

Boys! I thought with exasperation.