Elementals of Magic: Prophecy of Lies

Chapter 20

Starting Anew

When the two arrived in the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey quickly bustled over to the two young men.

"Did the two of you get in another fight?" she asked, as the two had been in the Hospital Wing together quite often during Fifth and Sixth Years.

"No, we haven´t, Madam Pomfrey," Harry answered. "I was sent to escort Malfoy, who´s here for some chocolate." And to add emphasis on his boredom and Draco´s patheticness, the Gryffindor rolled his eyes.

"Chocolate? Did you accidentally brew a Tendon Twisting Potion?"

Harry quickly nodded.

"Can you believe he did that? I told him not to stir counterclockwise, but he just wouldn´t listen."

"Hold on, dear. I just hope your tendons aren´t twisted too badly, otherwise you won´t be able to walk for weeks." Madam Pomfrey quickly bustled away to retrieve a large chunk of chocolate.

Draco put a very good imitation of shock on his face as the Medi-witch walked back towards him, holding a huge chunk of chocolate in her hand.

"For weeks? How am I going to attend classes then?" Draco moaned.

"Don´t worry, if you were able to even get here without screaming in pain, you´ll be fine. Now here, have some chocolate."

"You want me to eat all of that?" Draco asked, the dismay on his face real this time.

"Of course. We don´t know how badly your tendons are twisted, and you may need to eat all of this to untwist them. Of course, the more twisted they are, the harder it´ll be for you to walk afterwards, as the tendons will be terribly sore. Now, eat. Mr. Potter, make sure he swallows every last crumb."

Madam Pomfrey handed the chocolate to Draco, who received it apprehensively. Harry nodded as she swept away, helping a student who just entered the Hospital Wing, eyes growing everywhere on his skin, blinking rapidly and taking everything in.

"Wonder what happened to him," Harry muttered. Draco didn´t respond, which caused Harry to look at his lover. The Slytherin was staring at his chocolate.

"Come on, Draco, you have to eat it. You know that. You just faced a dementor, love," Harry whispered softly so that only the two of them could hear, not that it would have mattered, as now, the other student was screaming in pain, the sound reverberating around the Hospital Wing. Harry pitied the poor lad, who had probably had the eyes painfully removed. No doubt he would be staying overnight in the Hospital Wing, what with all the pain he had just undergone.

Draco sighed and started eating his chocolate, very slowly, taking bites approximately once a minute. Harry shook his head and took the chocolate out of Draco´s hand.

"I´ll feed you. It´s not that bad, Draco."

Thus, Harry hand-fed Draco chocolate, which sped up the process. The screaming was obscenely loud now, and Harry wished that they could open the door of the Hospital Wing, but then, they didn´t want to attract any unwanted attention towards themselves.

Finally, Draco was done, pink tongue licking the remnants of chocolate off his lips. His eyes fell on Harry´s chocolate stained hand, then his hand took hold of Harry´s and brought it to his lips.

Harry was on cloud nine when that wonderful tongue touched his palm, tickling the sensitive tissue. Draco was slowly licking the chocolate off his palm, painfully slow, his eyes trained on Harry´s face, which was twisted in pleasure. The tongue then moved to the fingers after cleaning the pad of flesh, licking its way up each digit, nearly killing Harry with the slowness and the pleasure it elicited. Finally, Harry´s hand was clean, though wet with Draco´s saliva, not that the Gryffindor cared.

Right then, Madam Pomfrey hurried over to them, interrupting the private moment.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel?"

Draco gingerly stretched, pretending to see if they worked without horrible pain overcoming him.

"I think I can walk back, with Potter´s help."

"Good. You be careful now, Mr. Malfoy, we don´t want you back so soon. After all, you were just in here last month."

Draco nodded, then carefully stood up. Harry, since Madam Pomfrey was watching them, rolled his eyes and walked over to Draco. He wrapped an arm around Draco´s waist, making little contact as possible while Draco landed an elbow on his shoulder, then they made their way slowly out of the Hospital Wing.

Once out of Madam Pomfrey´s line of vision, the two boys breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Whew, that was close," Harry said.

Draco assented.

"Are we meeting tonight?"

"Regular spot."

And with this exchange of words, the two young men made their way back to the dungeons, making sure to fix a disdainful expression on each of their faces.

***

The regular place was a room that Draco had found, a room that was not even on the Marauder´s Map. It was beautiful, decked out in green and silver, the Slytherin colors complimenting each other perfectly.

A large bed, approximately queen-sized, stood at the opposite corner from the opening. It was covered with jade green covers and pillows, the same tone as Harry´s eyes. Velvet curtains hung over the sides from the canopy above the bed, not silver but gray, Malfoy Grey.

All the furniture was made from mahogany, rich wood gleaming invitingly. A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling, silver candles waiting in the holders, giving a warm and loving atmosphere to the room when lit.

The walls weren´t stone, except for the entrance. The rest was draped in silver silk, soft and smooth, cool to the touch. A large stone fireplace was embedded into one of the walls, snakes intertwining up the sides of the grate. Neither knew where the chimney was nor started a fire, for fear of being caught.

Harry and Draco lay on the bed, next to each other. The Gryffindor turned his head and studied his lover. Shining soft hair of pale gold, the strands framing his face perfectly. Beautiful eyes of gray, so intense yet so unemotional, so cold, so apathetic. Soft marble skin covered every inch of his body, so wonderfully smooth. The chin was slightly pointed, a few short, sparse hairs scattered here and there, so pale that it was only visible when brought into the light or seen up close.

Draco had an effeminate beauty, the femininity making him the beauty that he was. Yet, he wasn´t just graced with effeminate beauty and grace. Such beauty could only belong to a god, an angel, an ethereal being, one that slept on clouds, drank ambrosia, and fluttered with white, beautiful, shining wings, spreading light wherever he touched. Draco was the embodiment of such ethereal beauty, of aether, the substance that composed the heavens. He was nothing short of pulchritude; he was perfection in itself, at least in physical beauty.

The beautiful yet fragile--in Harry´s point of view--head turned, and gray eyes met emerald orbs, gazing intently into them. The eyes, they were such a unique shade of gray, so wonderfully intense, so wonderfully loving.

Harry chose that moment to voice the question that he had been pondering ever since whatever this was had started, before Draco could reach over and press those wonderfully soft and smooth lips against his and silence him, which happened every time that Harry started talking about them.

"Draco, what are we?"

"What do you mean?"

"Draco, you know what I mean. Every time I try to talk, you change the subject by snogging me."

"I do not."

"Draco, please. What are we?"

Draco gestured to the room and everything that encompassed it.

"This is us."

"But what do we have between us?"

"Do you truly need me to say the words, to assure you that this is real and not a dream?"

Harry nodded.

"We´re lovers, Harry."

"Is that all that we are, Draco? Is this just because of want, of need? Is there no love involved in all of this?"

"You know that´s not true, Harry. We aren´t really boyfriends because we´re much more complicated than such a simple word. Even "lovers" is too simple a word to describe us. We are just us, simply us."

"You don´t trust me, Draco," Harry whispered softly as his hand cupped Draco´s cheek.

"You know that´s not true, Harry." Malfoy Grey eyes gazed steadily at verdant irises. "I trust you with my life."

"But not with the truth. You don´t trust me with everything that you´ve gone through. Relationships are supposed to be based on trust, too, not just love alone."

Draco looked away.

"I don´t trust anyone completely," he said quietly, more to himself than to Harry. "I trust Pansy to a certain extent. I trust Mother to a certain extent. But I can´t trust anyone completely. I can´t afford to."

"Draco, if this is to work, you have to trust me. I won´t betray you. I promise."

Draco turned his head and looked at Harry, an unidentifiable emotion glittering in his eyes. He finally nodded.

"I´ll try. But I´m not saying that it´ll work."

"Trying is good enough for me, love."

***

Young star-crossed lovers. What foolishness. There was nothing as true happily ever after. There was always something in the way, something that prevented happiness and love. It had always been like this. Always.

Victoria remembered that wonderful room from her days at Hogwarts. Britain was such a cold country all year long. Unlike China, her native land. Her mind drifted back to warm summers and not quite as cold winters.

She had been born in the midst of a war. And even though she had been born during a time of chaos and anarchy, it had been wonderful living there, living on their estate. Servants were no more, of course, not after the fall of the Qing Dynasty. But it was still wonderful, living a life of relative luxury.

Until it happened. Assassins were everywhere, and even though they had been well hidden, she had come home to find her whole life shattered. Victoria had already known what she needed to take, what she needed to do.

And so, she took everything that mattered and left that wonderful palace, built in the Manchurian style, many separate buildings with thatched roofs making up one big residence. Somehow, she ended up in England, where she had been forced to learn a whole new language and a whole new way of living.

Dragon Star was no more. Victoria took her place. Her parents had known about the Prophecy, had named her accordingly. And then, at Hogwarts, she met Tom.

Tom, who became her world and her very essence of life; Tom, whom she left because of circumstances, circumstances that she could not have changed and would not change. It had been a wonderful two years.

Victoria had lain against that wonderfully warm body on that wonderful bed. She was cold, always cold. Her hands were colder than ice in winter, a mirror of her ice-cold heart. But he had been warm, always warm, and she clung to his warmth, clung to him. They didn´t have sex, not at that young age, but they sometimes fell asleep together, his arms wrapped around her body, radiating off heat and closeness and love.

And Victoria had to admit she missed that. Back then, theirs was an innocent love. And she envied their past selves for their innocence, their naivete. It had been no more afterwards. The love was no longer innocent, though it had been just as strong, just as passionate.

Dragon Star was only a pawn in this game. So was Dragon Goddess. And so was Dragon Soul. They were all pawns, though they were three very important key players in this game, the ones who decided if they won or lost. Their destinies had been mapped out before they had even been born, but they didn´t know how many times they had to lose before they could win. Many would consider it an honor to be prophesized about by the First, but this had been pure anguish.

Things had been moving so smoothly along until that wretched Black ruined everything, him and his oh-so-smart ways. What an idiot. He always did the wrong things at the wrong time. Everyone called him smart, but he wasn´t, not when it came to the world and life.

And even though later, he had been saved, it wasn´t by his hand. What was meant to be did not take place. Or maybe she had interpreted it all wrong. Maybe they had interpreted it all wrong.

Don´t lose hope, Dragon Star. I haven´t.

Easy for her to say. She was patient. Dragon Star was not. All this waiting had bored her completely. She had already mastered Dragon Magic so completely that it wasn´t even funny. In fact, she could probably blow a hole in the Riddle Mansion right now, where they were.

Not that Dragon Star was going to. It would only cause them to flee, and she could not afford to lose track of them right now. The moment that they had been waiting was drawing closer, whether he sensed it or not. And maybe finally, she could rescue him while she saved him. And finally go on to her peace.

Dragon Star could feel her chuckle. She was always the more even-tempered one, the more amiable one. How she did it, Dragon Star didn´t know. After all, she was the granddaughter and the second Elemental Dragon. She had been here forever, forever waiting. And yet she was still quite nonchalant about all this. This one thing that twisted all their fates together and determined their ends.

What´s a few years to me, Dragon Star? I´ve been here for longer than I should be.

Easy for you to say, someone who´s lived as long as you.

Do not worry, dear. The First has never prophesized wrongly.

And that´s a good thing?

You do want to see your Tom one last time before you change, do you not? For I, it matters not. I shall have all of the rest of eternity to see my brother. You are separated from him while I am not.

I hate the unfairness of it, big sister.

We have no say in this. The paths have been set down before we even started treading on them. We must follow them as best as we can.

My poor son. He knows not of his destiny. But I couldn´t do anything. I would have jeopardized everything.

You did the right thing, little sister. Everything will fall in place, you will see.

Even if they don´t align perfectly?

They will meld together, Dragon Star. Rest your mind. Don´t worry about it. None of this is in our hands. You must let Fate run her course.

***

Hermione felt something out of place. She had talked to Ron about it, and he agreed with her.

Something was up with Harry. He had just been so out of it lately. In fact, neither of them saw their friend except during classes. He was never in the common room with them, and Ron never saw him in the dorms, either.

Hermione could understand if it was because Harry was stressed. But he didn´t act like it. The last time she had asked him about the third contest, he had assured her that he already knew what to do. That had been two weeks ago, and the brunette didn´t know if Harry was fooling her again, the same way he did with the Triwizard Tournament.

There was something in the enmity between him and Malfoy, also. She felt, somehow, that their jeers and jibes wasn´t completely heartfelt, didn´t contain as much hatred and resentment as it used to. And it worried her. Malfoy and Harry´s rivalry had been the one stable thing during their seven years at Hogwarts, and even that was changing.

Something definitely wasn´t right with what happened on Monday, in Potions. Hermione could understand why Harry would defend Malfoy. Even though Harry disliked the blonde Slytherin intensely, why, they all did, he wouldn´t have let the Slytherin just die. But there was something different about it. Maybe it was the way he spoke Expecto Patronum, or maybe it was the way he helped Malfoy to the Hospital Wing.

Hermione thought that she had seen a glimpse of something in those eyes, a glimpse of something pure and raw. And she was scared of what she saw. She was scared of what it meant. Somehow, Hermione hadn´t felt any enmity or hatred radiating from the two archrivals as the two had walked out of the door.

It was as if everything was changing, unbeknownst to any of them. It was as if the puzzle pieces of the big picture had, all of a sudden, realigned themselves. The tide was turning, and Hermione and Ron had promised to worm it out of Harry. Hopefully, he made it easy on himself. Because it hurt that he was keeping a secret from his two best friends, the two people who would always be here for him, and she and Ron had vowed to find it, no matter what, as long as it didn´t result in injuries and death.

***

"Tell me, tell me what you heard when the Dementor stood in front of you. Tell me what it happened."

Draco looked at him, then looked down.

"I don´t know if I can. I wasn´t taught to trust, Harry. I wasn´t taught to pour my heart out to anyone."

"Could you, for me?"

Draco looked back up at him, a wary look in his eyes.

"I don´t know, I truly don´t know. This is too fast, Harry. I´m not ready. I can´t go this fast. I can´t just turn from suspicious to trusting in one day."

"How about this? You tell me about something, and I´ll tell you something. Let´s start with something easy, like your family."

A dark look came over Draco.

"My family? What´s there to talk about? My family is too complicated to explain, Harry. Do you want me to give you the detailed version, or a brief summary?"

"Why don´t you just describe your parents and the relationships within your family. It can´t be that twisted, can it?"

"You be the judge, Harry."

And Draco told Harry about his family. About Lucius, his ambition and his darkness, his cruel treatment of Draco, what he did to unsuspecting Muggles. Narcissa, pretty and sweet, yet disgraced. How it was ironic that they loved each other, especially since they were so very different.

Opposites didn´t attract, unlike the common saying. Sure, they felt a rush of exhilaration when they were with each other, but when all the layers were peeled back, and the truth was exposed, all there was was two lonely souls, two souls that could never bond, no matter how much they tried.

Lucius and Narcissa were the embodiment of exact opposites. Lucius, who ruled with an iron fist. He was cruel, and he had no mercy. He was cold stone. In fact, Draco wouldn´t even have thought him humane was it not for his love for Narcissa. Narcissa, who was gentle and loving. She was compassionate, and she felt.

They were like night and day, yin and yang. Narcissa was everything good, everything right, while Lucius was everything dark, everything immoral and wrong. Yet they could exist with each other, love each other, truly love each other.

Many of his pupils thought that Draco had been trained at a young age for his initiation into the Death Eaters. They were wrong. His childhood had revolved around Narcissa, Narcissa with her smiles and laughs, Narcissa, who shone like the sun.

Only after she had convinced him to attend Hogwarts had Lucius started instilling into him the Malfoy Upbringing. By the time he boarded the Hogwarts Express, he had completely changed, changed from the warm, loving boy into a cold cruel pre-teen, one who delighted in tormenting and taunting others.

Maybe it was because Lucius never paid him much attention when he was small. Maybe that was why he had idolized Lucius. Lucius, who had acknowledged his existence but not him. Until that summer.

He could easily have overpowered Narcissa, forced her to stop lavishing her attention onto Draco. Yet he didn´t. Was it because he wanted Draco to have a happy childhood, or was it because he loved Narcissa, loved her so much that he couldn´t bear to interfere?

***

Harry had heard of the tales about Draco´s parents. How they ruled with an iron fist. How they never allowed Draco any freedom. It seemed that the tales about Lucius were right, a cold, cruel, ambitious father who cared only about the honor of the family.

But Narcissa, she was different. Somehow, Harry had thought of her as the vain mother who only cared about herself and nothing else. However, from Draco´s descriptions of her, he felt that he was wrong. She sounded like a wonderful mother, like the kind of mother whom his Mum no doubt had been.

And their love for each other. That was what surprised Harry the most. He had thought Malfoys incapable of emotion, Lucius so composed and cold, and Draco a mirror image of his father. But maybe he had been wrong. If Draco was capable of love, then surely Lucius would also be able to. Not that he was anything but a slimy git in Harry´s eyes, especially after he heard about the older man´s treatment of Draco over the summer, and what he did to the Muggles whom he kidnapped for Draco´s training sessions.

Harry knew that this hadn´t been easy for Draco, to tell someone about something this private. He didn´t even know if Pansy Parkinson knew about this. And the Gryffindor knew that he owed it to Draco to tell him about something important.

Trust had to work both ways in a relationship. If the two people didn´t completely trust each other, then the relationship was nothing. Love wasn´t enough to sustain the bond between two people. It never was. Love had to be combined with trust, because only with trust can a true connection be formed.

"I guess I should tell you about my family in return."

"Like you have any family to talk about, Harry, besides those idiotic Muggles you live with," Draco drawled.

"And my Godfather."

"So you´ve kept in contact with him? My, I didn´t know that you broke the rules, Harry."

"He´s innocent, all right, Draco? You don´t need to report this to anyone. But this must remain an absolute secret."

"The same way that what I tell you must remain. But I already knew about Black. After all, I´ve seen Wormtail a few times at the Death Eater parties that Father held. Sniveling, cringing, little coward," Draco added distastefully.

"So I guess it´s not anything big to you."

"You trusted me enough to tell me about him, didn´t you?"

And then, Draco ended the conversation by leaning forward and capturing Harry´s mouth with his own. The Gryffindor gave in without a fuss, and thus, another wonderful snogging session was started.

***

Saturday found Pansy wandering down the halls of Hogwarts. Her mind was in a jumbled disarray. There was just so much to think about. N.E.W.T.s, the impending Death Eater initiation in the summer, which will no doubt include her dear Draco, their fake marriage if the Dark Lord wasn´t defeated soon, and of course, what was usually on her preoccupied mind--Draco and Potter.

Their relationship wasn´t going to be an easy one; that was for sure. Were they destined to be together? She didn´t know. But considering their circumstances--Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, Heir of Gryffindor, and Draco, scion to the Malfoy and DeVrai legacy, son of the Dark Lord´s second-hand man, and no doubt, soon, a Death Eater, part of the Inner Circle--it seemed that their paths in life were meant to collide headlong, with only one continuing, no doubt Potter´s.

Yet, somehow, they had turned it all around. They had managed to make their paths parallel and reach out to each other, ensnare each other. Draco would surely change sides, especially since he had the added reason of Lucius. The brunette would, of course, support him whichever side he was on. Draco was her life.

And as she was pondering all this and turning it over in her mind, two figures stepped out from the shadows and blocked her way. Pansy was a bit surprised, as this was a huge risk for the both of them, revealing their true selves, though her face was emotionless. Her parents had trained her well, her mask almost as foolproof as Draco´s, perhaps even more in some ways. All of this hiding, it had become second nature to the both of them.

They had both been taught to observe, to decipher others, to calculate and unmask their opponents´ and their allies´ carefully hidden strengths and weaknesses. Some were blatantly obvious, like Potter, while others took a bit more time, though they always slipped in the end.

But Vince and Greg, they were different. Their masks were almost impenetrable. Even their own parents couldn´t break through, even their own parents didn´t know them truly. And they, unlike most, had never slipped, never revealed a moment of weakness.

And they, they were perhaps even better at observing than she and Draco. Even she had been able to slip in front of them. If they hadn´t discovered Draco and Potter yet, then they would have, at least, started to suspect something by now. Nothing stayed unnoticed to them for long.

Hogwarts was a school filled with sheep, some destined to stay vulnerable, woolly, taken-advantage-of sheep. Others would become fierce, loyal rams. Yet, not everyone in the school was truly sheep.

Potter, he was a tiger in sheep´s clothing. A tiger that held power over everyone else, not because of who he was, but because of his fame. Like a tiger, famous for his the shows he put on. Granger, meanwhile, was a vixen, a vixen in sheepskin. A sly and clever vixen, smart enough to wiggle her way out of trips, yet not smart enough to see everything in its entirety. Weasel, the ever loyal and faithful bull, hidden in a docile disguise. Known for his fierce temper and for his undying devotion.

Draco was a lion, hidden away among the sheep. More powerful than even Potter, not that anyone could tell. He was the king of all beasts, the one that held power over them all, especially her. Her, the panther, cloaked under layers and layers of wool. Graceful, elegant, and sly. Vince and Greg, though, they were wolves in sheep´s clothing, the disguise molding onto their bodies like a second skin. They played their parts well, pretending to be blind followers of the lion while absorbing everything. After all, only one can win--the tiger that lead all of the sheep, pretending to be one of them, or the lion that wouldn´t die, the lion that ruled already over a small percent of the population.

Pansy looked calmly at Vince and Greg, who stared back at her, taking everything in. Then, Vince spoke.

"We need to talk, Pansy."

Pansy nodded, and she followed them until they reached a stretch of blank, stone wall. She heard Greg whisper something, though unable to make out any words.

The wall slid open to reveal a room. A wooden table stood in the middle, test tubes littered over the scarred surface. A set of couches, along with a coffee table, rested at the opposite end.

"Don´t look at us, Pansy. This used to be the Weasley twins´ lab."

Pansy arched an eyebrow. So that is where they invented the Canary Cream.

Greg and Vince walked inside, Pansy following after them. When the three Slytherins had entered, the stone wall slid shut. The two burly young men walked to the couch and sat down one of them, leaning against each other.

Pansy frowned. The two wouldn´t be this open, unless...The brunette took a seat opposite them, noticing their intertwined hands, which caused her to think of Draco and Potter. A pang of jealousy coursed through her.

"First things first," Vince began. "We know you know."

No wonder they were being so open. No need to hide anything if she already knew.

"How?"

Greg responded.

"No need for you to know, Pansy. We are even. We have information about you, you have information about us."

That was true. Though Vince and Greg´s relationship was known widespread, it was just a show. In fact, that show they had put on at breakfast on the day of Gryffindor´s Quest, it was just a show. Their relationship was of love, true and pure love, love that stemmed from the many similarities the two shared. Their love was definite, something that the two of them could feel. They could feel each other connected. All that shagging, it was an act. Their relationship was business and personal, intimate and distant at the same time.

"And we respect you for not revealing us while we would have revealed your secrets if we ever had need to. In fact, one could go so far as to say that we admire you," Vince continued. "We know that you wrote to Lady Malfoy about Zabini´s near-rape of you, and we know that you had a fight with Draco because of that, perhaps the only one ever. And we are sure that that´s not all."

"And we know that Draco has been sneaking out at night. He is smart, very smart. But the smartest sometimes have trouble with seeing what´s right under their nose. He´s seeing someone, isn´t he?" Greg added. They were so intimate, so attuned with each other, that they could continue each other´s sentences. Even she and Draco didn´t know each other that well.

"One question. Who? If you don´t tell us, well find out eventually."

Pansy weighed everything in her mind. If she didn´t tell, Vince and Greg would find out anyway, and who knew what circumstances would be surrounding all of them at that point in time? If she did tell, though, she might very well be able to sway the two onto her side, which was much needed.

The brunette leaned forward and said one word quietly.

"Potter."

Greg and Vince exchanged looks, looks that Pansy couldn´t quite comprehend.

"Potter," Greg repeated flatly.

"Yes," Pansy assented.

"Then everything is more complicated than we had previously thought. The stakes have been upped, Pansy. The game is more dangerous than ever. Be glad to know that you have gained two allies." With that, the two Slytherins left.

Pansy understood what it meant. The whole scheme of things had been rearranged. Draco and Potter had joined forces, not to mention bodies. No, she wasn´t going to think about such horrible mood ruiners. Meanwhile, the Dark Lord was stating to take over again, gaining more followers along the way. Or should she say, slaves. Everything was more perilous than ever, now. Alliances were now of the essence; the wrong ones could be the destruction of some. Nothing could be exposed in the open; anything revealed, accidentally or not, could come back to haunt them, to annihilate them. And if Draco refused to come out of the safe little world where Potter had been this whole time, where Potter was now holding him, sheltering him, and blinding him, then she would have to take action. She would make the alliances, she would make the decisions. No matter what, as long as it kept them alive, her and Draco. And Potter, unfortunately.

***

Harry was cornered by Hermione in the common room on Sunday.

"Harry, Ron and I know that you have been keeping something from us. Do you not trust us?" Hermione looked hurt.

Harry sighed. He hadn´t expected a confrontation this soon. Hermione was smart, but he didn´t expect her to figure it out already. Was he that bad of an actor? Had he let something slip?

Harry knew that he had no choice but to tell Hermione. It was too hard, keeping this a secret from his two best friends when he yearned to tell them everything. The Gryffindor could only hope that Draco would forgive him.

"Hermione, I´m sorry about keeping this from you and Ron, but this is really, really important."

"You can trust Ron and me, Harry. We´ve always been here for you, haven´t we?"

"I...Hermione, promise that you won´t make a scene, and you will keep this a secret."

Hermione nodded.

"I will, Harry."

"I´m...I´m in a relationship with someone."

"That´s great!" she squealed. Thankfully, there was no one in the common room except for the two of them, as everyone else was already at breakfast. "Who is it?"

Harry looked away for a second before looking back into the brunette´s earnest hazel eyes.

"It´s...Draco Malfoy."

Hermione backed away from him, horror on her face.

"Hermione, no, I promise, he´s not the way you think he is!"

These words seemed to snap Hermione out of her shock. She looked at Harry steadily.

"I trust you, Harry. If you say that he´s not a slimy git, then I believe you. I support you in this, Harry. Just as long as he doesn´t mistreat you, of course."

"Thank you," Harry whispered.

The portrait door slammed shut at this, and Harry turned around too late to catch the person who had listened in on their conversation. Hermione, however, put a hand up to her mouth.

"Herm, who was it?"

Hermione looked at him, then looked away.

"Ron."

Harry groaned. This was bad. The hatred between the Malfoy and Weasley family had been going for generations, and he knew that Ron was in one of his famous Weasley tempers right now. And who knew if the redhead would forgive him even after he calmed down?

"I´ll go talk to him, Harry."

With that, Hermione ran out the portrait hole, also, leaving Harry to contemplate and digest what had just transpired.

***

Hermione ran down halls, hoping that she could find Ron. The brunette passed a hall, then quickly doubled back, sure that she had seen a flash of red hair. She had. Ron was at the end of the corridor, back towards her. Hermione cautiously made her way towards the redhead.

Hermione could hear Ron muttering to himself as she neared him. He was angry, that was for sure. She gently put a hand on his shoulder.

Ron spun around, fists ready to punch whomever it was that was intruding. They fell, though, when he recognized Hermione.

"´Mione?"

"Ron, listen--"

"How could he do this--"

"Ron, please--"

"I´d rather have him go out with you, the one I love, than--"

An awkward silence ensued, and Ron looked away, horrified at revealing his feelings for Hermione. Hermione, meanwhile, was shocked.

"What did you say, Ron?" she whispered softly.

Ron sighed, defeated. He looked back at Hermione.

"I said, `I´d rather have him go out with you, the one I love.´"

The redhead pushed past Hermione and walked away. No doubt Hermione would never want to see him again. However, a hand grabbing his arm stopped him. Ron turned around, blue eyes flashing in surprise.

"Do you know how long I´ve waited to hear you say that, Ron Weasley?" Hermione asked softly.

Ron looked at her for a second before pulling her towards him and wrapping his arms around her. Their lips met in a chaste first kiss.

_____________________________________

"Qing" is pronounced ching, except without the h sound.

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All readers!