Someone To Know Me Too Well

Thanks, too, to Jen, Fran, and Aja for their support and unofficial beta work.
Adi Das drew a lovely picture of Sam, but it is no longer on her website. If you'd like to see it, email me.
And finally, to my reviewers who give me the impetus to continue: Fidelis Haven, Plumeria, Verdant, sofie_elisabeth, and Booksprite.

* * * * *

Her head hurt. Opening her eyes a fraction, she then shut them quickly.

"Turn off the sun."

Someone in the room laughed.

Sam took a mental inventory. She was lying in an unfamiliar bed.

Where the hell am I? What’s going on?

Thinking back, she tried to remember. The last memory she had, a very hazy one, was of her tossing Floo Powder into the fireplace in Snape’s chambers and shouting, "The Three Broomsticks!"

Anything after that?

Oh yeah. From the Three Broomsticks, I left and went to the Jolly Roger.

And then… oh, Merlin, whose bed am I in?

She opened her eyes again. The light in the room stabbed into her, seeming to drive straight through to her brain.

She was lying in a four-poster bed in a very elegant and very unfamiliar bedroom. Sitting up, Sam surveyed the room, the better to report back to Lisa. Huge windows let in the late morning light. The room was decorated in blue and cream, and all the wood was cherrywood. The bed had a blue canopy that matched the silk of the duvet. Around her, the walls were a darker blue, with the wainscoting and molding painted in cream. The room's sheer size and quiet elegance awed her: built-in bookcases flanking the windows, a large cherrywood wardrobe that could easily hold several bodies, and a sitting area next to a fireplace large enough for her to stand upright in. She turned, looking for the exit--and saw Draco, sitting in a chair.

Okay. What the fuck?

She sat up, too suddenly, and the room began to spin. She put a hand to her mouth and waited for the nausea to stop.

Draco eyed her warily. "You going to be sick again?"

"Seeing your face isn't helping, I assure you. Explains why there aren't any mirrors in here."

"Oh, there is one. You just can't see it unless I take the canopy off the bed. I've got one in my room, too."

"I… thank you for that. But what do you mean, again? Was I sick before?"

He laughed. "Oh, yes. You had seven or eight too many."

"Too many?"

"Yes, Fawcett. You went to the Jolly Roger—didn’t think a girl like you would know about a place like that—and proceeded to get roaring drunk. Don’t you remember doing the table dance?"

"The table dance?" she breathed, horrified.

"Yes. It was quite a show, I have to say. Where’d you, er, learn to do that, anyway? The tassel thing?" His eyes glittered and she wasn’t sure if he was teasing her or not.

"Where am I now? And what are you doing here?"

"I brought you here, as any good brother would. To Malfoy Manor."

No. NO.

Sam tried to get out of bed. "I have to get out of here."

Draco put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down. "Relax. My parents are in Switzerland for the next month. We’re the only ones here. Well, and the servants. And the house-elves. And the ghosts. Come to think of it, I guess it is just us. Brother and sister. How charming."

"But I—how did you know where I was?"

"Well, actually, you can thank Snape for that. He walked into his chambers and noticed that someone had flooed from there. He was able to find out who had last used the fireplace and where they’d gone. And once he realized it was you, he told me. We eventually tracked you down at the Jolly Roger and brought you here. Well, more like carried."

"He hadn't changed his password… his was the only fireplace I could think of…" She looked at Draco warily. "Why… why did you do that?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Couldn’t leave you to your own devices, could I? We Malfoys have a reputation to uphold."

Suddenly it all came rushing back to her. She was Lucius Malfoy’s daughter. And Draco was her brother. Well, half-brother. And Fred—

"Where’s Fred?"

"Fred?"

"Don’t be dense, Draco. Fred Weasley."

"Probably taking out his frustrations on some poor first-year."

Sam looked at him. "Malfoy…"

He affected an air of unconcern. "I’ve no idea."

"But he—"

Draco sat on the bed beside her. "Listen to me, and listen well. Fred is the first to turn against you because you’re a Malfoy. He won’t be the last. You will get used to it eventually."

"But… I thought he… he said he’d never leave me…." To her shame, Sam felt tears well up in her eyes. Draco watched her for a moment, then passed her a tissue.

"One thing you should know, Fawcett, is that Malfoys don’t hug."

She didn’t reply, but looked up as she felt someone lay a ghostly arm around her shoulders. No one was there.

Draco noticed. "What?"

"Er, nothing… I just thought I heard something."

I’m cracking. My mother always said there was insanity in the Malfoy family…

My mother. Why didn’t she tell me? Or is that why she stayed drunk all the time?

Not that I blame her now.

Sam put her head in her hands and forced herself to be calm. The ghostly touch disappeared.

Sam finally looked up at Draco, blue eyes still wary. "Why are you being so nice? You were just… hateful the last time you spoke to me. You hate me and now… why?"

He shrugged and picked at the duvet. "I don’t know."

"Look, Malfoy--"

His eyes hardened. "Don’t push it, Fawcett."

"Did you know… about your father… I mean…"

"That we have the same father? Yes. I knew from the first time I saw you."

"How? How did you know?"

He stood up. "Fancy a tour of the Manor?"

"Sure… but do you have anything for the headache?"

"I think I can figure something out."

She got out of bed, still unsteady. "So today is… Friday, right? Oh, no! My classes!"

Draco hesitated, then spoke. "I’m sure your teachers will let you make up the work, considering the horrific shock you’ve had to endure." His tone was dry.

"And whose pajamas are these?" They were beautifully tailored green silk. A little big for her. Of course: they were Draco’s. "Do you have a dressing gown or something I can wear? I don’t want my pants falling off."

"Much as I appreciate that mental picture, I think I can find something. Stay here."

Sam sat, looking around the room.

What exactly did I drink at the Jolly Roger? I’ve entered some sort of alternate reality. Draco’s being nice, and I’m in Malfoy Manor, and…

Fred… does he still love me?

I won’t ever find anyone else like him, either.

"You don’t need him. You have me now." Sam jumped. The voice came from her left, and, looking carefully, she thought she could see a vague outline of a man. Then it (he) was gone.

Draco was gone for a while. Sam was looking out the window, looking out over a gorgeous view of the Manor grounds, when she heard him come in.

Carrying a… tray?

Alternate reality. Right. Because that’s the only way that Draco Malfoy would be bringing me meals in bed.

I’m a Malfoy. I’ve gone insane.

"Not yet, anyway," a soft voice whispered in her ear. Laughter echoed in her mind.

"Hungry?" Draco asked.

Sam eyed the tray warily.

"I’m not going to poison you. Not yet, anyway. You haven’t eaten in a while. You need something to eat."

"It hasn’t been that long, Malfoy."

"It isn’t Friday. It’s Saturday."

"What?"

"Snape gave you a potion. He said you needed to sleep."

"Snape was here?"

"Of course. Who do you think got you into those pajamas?"

Draco seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh at the look on Sam’s face--shock, followed by horror--but lost the battle. "Look. Eat, and I’ll explain what I can, okay?"

Numbly, she nodded and sat down at a small table in the sitting area. Draco put the tray on the table and sat as well.

"Do you know how many girls at Hogwarts would kill to have me bring them breakfast in bed?"

"All of them, I’m sure. Some of the boys, too. But I just can’t eat… in bed, with you beside me. That’s…"

"Squicky?"

"Not squicky, so much, it just feels… wrong. This isn't Arkansas, you know."

"Be nice, or I’ll make you wear my pajamas with the Golden Snitches on them."

"That’s just great, Draco Malfoy telling me to be nice."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

She sighed, and began to eat.

* * * * *

Lisa was pacing in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were all watching her.

"Lisa, stop! You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet and pacing isn’t going to help anything. Dad's been pacing for years. Hasn't helped Percy," George said.

"But it’s been two days, and no one knows where she is! And Draco’s gone missing too. She does run off and disappear when she’s upset, but she’s never been gone this long before. I only hope Draco’s with her."

"Unless he killed her," Ron put in. They all looked at him. "Or she killed him. Let’s face it, they can’t stand each other. So I can’t see them being anywhere together. Not voluntarily, anyway."

"Good point. Still, she is Draco’s sister, and he does have a strong sense of family," Harry mused.

Everyone looked at Harry, and he reddened slightly. "Just saying."

Lisa stopped pacing. "I’m going to see Flitwick. He already knows she didn’t show up for class on Friday, and he needs to know that she’s still gone. At least he didn’t take points from Ravenclaw like Snape did."

Fred cocked his head, remembering. "Do you remember when she got that owl at lunch and left suddenly?"

"Of course. What about it?"

"Well, I looked at the head table, and Snape got up as if he were going to follow her when she left the Hall. But, for some reason, he sat back down. And then… the other day, she said that Snape helped her find out about her father…"

"Snape? Are you sure?" Ron asked.

"Positive."

George looked thoughtful. "Do you think she might have gone to the Burrow?"

"She could have… but wouldn’t mum make her owl us if she were there?" Ron asked.

"You know Sam. She could talk mum out of anything. She’s good at covering up."

Lisa suddenly sat down on a chair. "She sure is."

Everyone turned to look at her. "What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I’m going to Pomfrey. I don’t think she was in the hospital wing at all. She looked positively panicked when Cho said that she had to go get that incident report form from Pomfrey for her weekly prefects’ House report."

"I’m going with you. And then, I think we should go see Snape," Fred said.

"The game's afoot!" George cried, but the look on his twin's face shut him up. "Let me know what you find out," he said weakly.

* * * * *

"You know that I can’t give out private information about students."

"Madam Pomfrey, we know that, but we’re really worried about Sam, and were just wondering if you knew anything that might help us…"

Madam Pomfrey cocked her head. "Sam…?"

Fred looked at Lisa significantly. "Samantha Fawcett. Red hair. Blue eyes. Ravenclaw."

"The name sounds familiar… is she the one that was in here with a broken arm after the winter holidays her second year? I also remember her needing my help after she tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament. That awful beard."

Lisa nodded grimly. "Yes, that’s her." Lisa remembered when Sam had come back from the holidays with a broken arm, and her subsequent refusal to tell anyone how it happened.

"I remember her. Such a funny girl. And you’re worried about her? Has her Head of House been notified?"

"Well, Professor Snape is aware of the situation," Lisa replied. "Thank you for your help, Madam."

"Oh, any time. You take care, dears."

Once in the hall, Fred took Lisa's arm. "She hasn't been there. Or Pomfrey would remember her."

"Yes, Fred, I’d kind of deduced that on my own, thank you. So, if she wasn’t here during Potions, then where was she?"

"Dunno, but I think Snape’s our next stop." Fred scowled. "I just hope he doesn’t remember the time that George and I…"

Lisa held up a hand. "Fred. I really don’t want to know."

"This place is huge, Malfoy. You ought to pass out maps or something."

"You learn your way around after a while. And most of the ghosts will point you in the right direction if you get too turned around."

Sam and Draco were walking down one of the many halls of Malfoy Manor. Draco had found an old dressing gown of his for her to wear, and Sam laughed to herself as she tried to imagine Draco Malfoy in plaid flannel.

He stopped at the intersection of two hallways. "You asked me how I knew that you and I were related."

Sam nodded. I still want to know why he’s being so nice to me. I gotta get in the kitchen. I just know he has a human head in his freezer or something.

"This is the portrait gallery."

Sam stared as they walked into a huge room, bigger than many she’d seen, with walls covered with what must have been thousands of portraits. Most were sullen and still. She followed him as he led her to the other side of the room. A small portrait caught her eye partway, and she stopped to study it.

She began to laugh. He looked back at her, one eyebrow raised.

"You found something entertaining, Fawcett?"

She nodded. "Look, it’s ickle baby Draco. Awww. You really should wear sailor suits more often. They look good on you."

He glowered at her, but she kept laughing.

"Who knew you were such a cute baby? Look at those chubby cheeks! Cute, cute, cute!"

"If you’re quite finished waxing poetic over my baby pictures…."

Sam grinned at him. "I’m not going to run across any naked baby pictures, am I?"

He tilted an eyebrow at her again. "Are you into that sort of thing?"

"Merlin, no! Lighten up, Malfoy. It was a joke."

He gestured to a large portrait. "Come here."

Curious, Sam walked over to where he stood.

The picture on the wall was of a young man and woman. Both looked to be about the same age Sam and Draco were. The portrait was still. The boy had the same blond hair, long lines, and patrician features that Draco had. The girl…

She looks just like… me. Well, with bigger boobs, maybe.

Sam was aware of Draco studying her.

"The resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it?"

"Who are these people?"

"Ancestors. The portrait was painted in 1826. She is my aunt, on my father’s side. And yours as well."

"And the boy?"

"My uncle."

Never could figure out familial relationships.

"They got married?"

"Yes."

"But they look like they’re…."

"Related. They were. First cousins." Draco paused. "That’s what the aristocracy did in those days. To keep the bloodlines pure."

Sam backed away. "Okay, look, if you brought me here thinking I’m going to marry you or something, I can tell you right now that's never going to happen."

Draco smiled. A small one. "I don’t intend to marry you. You’re not my type, shall we say. I just wanted to show you your… heritage."

"Inbreeding. You know, that explains a lot, Malfoy. I mean, look what inbreeding does to dogs. So with people…" She trailed off at the look on his face, but thought she saw a small flicker in his eyes.

"Honestly, where’s your sense of humor?" Acting on a sudden impulse, she reached over and ruffled his hair. "You have got to learn to lighten up."

He glared at her. "Don’t. Touch. The. Hair."

Sam sighed. "You are such a priss. Bet you wouldn’t mind if Lisa messed it up, would you?"

He didn’t reply, starting out of the room instead.

Sam followed him, rolling her eyes.

* * * * *

Later that night, she was wandering the Manor, trying to find the library she'd seen earlier that day. It was by far her favorite room--the most magnificent library she'd ever seen--and Draco had laughed as she flitted from book to book in raptures.

Okay, do I turn left or right? Suddenly, Sam was lost.

I really need to learn a map spell or something.. I am so fucking lost. No ghosts around, either.

"The Direction spell is really quite easy." Sam jumped at the sound of the voice, and suddenly she was standing in the library. The only light in the room came from the fireplace, and the rich voice came from a figure standing next to it, face in shadow.

"W-what's going on?"

"You're dreaming, Samantha." The figure cocked its head. "Don’t you remember me? From the other night?"

That voice… "You helped me. Thank you."

"Any time. I told you I would. All you need do is ask, my pet."

Sam stepped forward, trying to see the man's face. "Who are you?"

"Just someone interested in your welfare."

"Well, at least come here so I can see you. I like to see the people that live in my head."

He walked towards her with easy grace. He was tall, but looked to be only a bit older than she. Black hair--like Harry--and deep blue eyes. They were deeply set, and he was handsome. All she wanted to do was run her hands through that black hair--wavy, just brushing his shoulders--and gaze into those eyes. Small mouth, but those eyes--

Now I know what they mean about drowning in someone's eyes.

He stopped in front of her, watching her. "Like what you see?"

"Oh, sorry. Was I staring?"

He chuckled. "I sometimes have that effect on women."

Sam swallowed. "Who are you?"

"I told you, someone interested in your welfare."

"What's your name?"

He looked at her, considering. "I'll tell you my name if you guess it."

"Oh. Like to play games?" she asked coyly, flashing her dimples at him.

His eyes grew dark. "No, Samantha. I don't play games. Everything I do is for keeps."

An icy finger ran down her back, but she nodded.

I think I've just gotten myself into trouble.

He stepped forward and took her by the shoulders. "Samantha. I am here to help you. I don't want to hurt you. Unlike the other men you've known, even your beloved Fred, you have nothing to fear from me. I only want you to realize your true potential."

He's going to kiss me, she thought, and suddenly she wanted him to kiss her very much indeed. Fred was promptly forgotten as she looked into those blue eyes.

He chuckled again. "No, Samantha. I'm not going to kiss you. I'm going to teach you a few spells. A direction spell. And an invisibility spell."

"What do you want in return?"

He reached up and caressed her cheek. His hands were icy but her skin burned where he had touched her. "Nothing, my pet. Nothing at all."

And, smiling a dark smile, the teacher began his lessons.

* * * * *

Draco stood outside the suite where Sam slept, listening as she spoke in her sleep. Her room was next to his, and her clear voice had woken him. Always a light sleeper, he got up and eased her door open. She was alone in the bed, and her voice carried over to him. Instead of the murmurs of someone dreaming, she sounded as if she were conversing with someone in the room.

"What do you want in return?" Sam asked her dream partner. Puzzled, Draco leaned forward, but Sam was silent after that.

He finally left her sleeping and went back to bed.

* * * * *

Sam took a deep breath and stepped into the Ravenclaw common room.

Time to face the music.

The room was nearly empty. A few students were playing Exploding Snap in one corner, and Lisa sat in a chair by the fire, reading. Biting her lip, unsure of the reception she'd receive, Sam walked over to her best friend.

Lisa looked up and her eyes widened. She dropped the book, stood up and threw her arms around Sam.

"Where were you? I was frantic! Fred was frantic! You just disappeared. We had no idea what had happened to you! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I was, uh, well, sort of at… Malfoy Manor."

Lisa pulled away enough to look at Sam closely. "The Manor? Why were you there?"

Stick with the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"Well, I didn't mean to end up there. It's really a, uh, funny story. See, after Fred tried to fold, spindle, and mutilate Draco, I left. I… had to get away so I went to the uh, Jolly Roger…"

Lisa's eyes never left Sam's.

* * * * *

Draco Malfoy stepped into the Slytherin common room. Beside the fireplace, Crabbe and Goyle looked up.

"Hey, Malfoy. We were just wondering where you'd been," Crabbe said.

"Yeah. Did you finish the essay for Potions?" Goyle asked.

"Yes, I did, and no, you can't copy it," Draco snapped and walked up to his room alone.

* * * * *

Fred sighed and propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at Sam. She smiled up at him, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"I was really scared, Sam. That whole business with Malfoy… then we fought and you disappeared and I couldn't find you. That scared me." He leaned forward and kissed her. "Don't do that again."

"I won't, Fred, I promise. I just… I wasn’t thinking straight. Nor were you, about ten minutes ago."

Fred grinned. "You, uh, distracted me."

Sam smiled seductively. "Did I, now? How exactly did I distract you?" She ran a hand down his chest, and then, a bit lower.

Fred swallowed. "I, you… took me by surprise. Sneaking into my room. You were so… Not like your usual self… Where'd you learn to do that stuff, anyway?"

"You liked it? Want more?" She moved her hand and Fred's eyes widened.

"I… That's new…"

"If you're… up for it, that is." She smiled darkly and leaned forward. "You're really going to like this…. A friend taught it to me."

Fred Weasley didn't say another word.

* * * * *

Lisa and Sam were sitting in Potions. From across the room, Draco caught Lisa's eye, winked at her, and continued stirring the contents of his cauldron.

You are a smitten kitten, Turpin.

Lisa hadn't had a moment alone with Draco all week, but his eyes haunted her.

That's it. I'm dragging him to the Astronomy Tower and snogging him silly. Tonight.

Lisa looked back in time to see Sam add something to the potion, making it foam. Sam hesitated, then quickly added some more ingredients, and the potion was once again the turquoise color that was called for. Muttering to herself, she added yet another ingredient.

"Sam. What'd you do?"

"Oh, added too much of something but it's okay, see, the potion is back to normal," Sam hissed.

"I doubt that, Miss Fawcett. I distinctly saw you add twice the amount of lacewings than that which was called for."

Professor Snape was standing over the two girls. Lisa bit her lip.

Why do I always feel guilty whenever he looks at me?

Sam spoke. "Yes, sir, I did, but I added quinine to counteract the effects of the extra lacewings. I also added a pinch of copper to add to the potion's efficacy. Or maybe it's an aphrodisiac. But I'm pretty sure it's to increase effectiveness."

Snape's eyes narrowed, but the corners of his mouth quirked. "Indeed. Neither quinine nor copper is called for, however."

"No, sir, it's not, but the potion will work just as it is supposed to now."

"I see you've been doing some extra research, Miss Fawcett. Ten points to Ravenclaw for knowing how to correct your mistake, and five points from Ravenclaw for making the mistake in the first place," Snape said softly, and glided away.

Lisa looked at Sam. Sam looked at Lisa.

"Did he just… give us points?"

"He did. Good thinking, Sam. How'd you know what to do?"

"Oh. I just… I must have read it somewhere. We're Ravenclaws. We're supposed to know nerdy stuff like that."

Lisa knew that Sam was being evasive, or at least more so than usual, but she let it go. Ever since Sam had come back from Malfoy Manor a week ago, she'd been… different. Her usual lightheartedness was gone. But then, Lisa mused, I'd lose it too if I found out Lucius Malfoy was my father. Sam refused to discuss the subject with anyone, including Fred.

She's shutting us all out.

Sam had also suddenly gotten very good in all of her classes, including Charms, which was usually her worst subject. Sam had always been smart, but rarely studied, preferring instead to investigate the many mischief-making possibilities at Hogwarts. But now…

It's like she got a tutor or something. Because I don't think she's started sleeping with the teachers.

Come to think of it, I don't think she's sleeping much at all.

Something had changed in Draco, too, though what it was, Lisa couldn't say. Both Sam and Draco had declined to discuss what transpired at Malfoy Manor, though Sam had described the Manor itself in breathless detail. But the two seemed to have reached a truce of sorts, and, while not friendly, were no longer playing their usual mongoose-and-cobra game.

Her eyes fell on a doodle of Fred that Sam had drawn in the margins of her Potions book. During breakfast that morning, Lisa had noticed Fred studying Sam from the Gryffindor table, a frown on his normally cheerful face. Afterward, he'd pulled her aside for a quick consultation.

"Hey, Lisa, wait a sec."

Lisa turned to see Fred beside her. Sam had eaten quickly, then headed back to the dorm for a book she forgot.

"Hey. What's up?"

Fred was, for him, uncharacteristically nervous. "It's about Sam."

"What about Sam?"

"Is she… does she seem okay to you?"

"Well, she's been quiet, yes. But I think she's still trying to come to grips with what she found out about… you know, her father."

Fred's mouth was a thin line as he nodded. "You're right. She just seems… different. I'm just a bit worried, is all. Is she… has she said anything to you?"

"About her father, you mean? No."

Fred sighed. "I've tried to talk to her, but I can't get a thing out of her except jokes and the latest gossip. And, well, uh, never mind." He looked away, cheeks red.

Lisa smiled at him. "Everything will be fine, Fred. She'll be back to normal, well, normal for her, in no time. It'll be all right. You'll see."

Lisa had no way of knowing how wrong she was.

* * * * *

Severus Snape sat alone in his chambers, a snifter of brandy by his side. As he studied the dying fire, his thoughts drifted. He thought about that day's Potions class, and of Samantha Fawcett's strange behavior. Samantha would be a promising student if she'd just apply herself, but she was young and easily distracted, without the attention to detail that was so important in Potions.

Until today.

Snape picked up the fifth-year Potions book, searching for something. Not finding what he was looking for, he sat back, sipping his brandy.

The book said nothing about how to increase that potion's efficacy. Where had she picked that up?

Sam was like her mother in many ways. Snape closed his eyes and remembered Anne Fawcett as he'd last seen her.

"Please, don't do this to me!" she pleaded as Lucius Malfoy advanced on her. Malfoy's eyes were dark with malice, a salacious grin on his face, his hands busy with his trousers, unbuttoning them.

A high, thin voice: "She is yours to do with as you will, Lucius."

Paul Fawcett, face pale, watching from beside his master, silent, unmoving, taking no action whatsoever to help his wife.

Anne's blue eyes locked on Severus's. "Please, Severus, don't let him do this to me…"

Snape swallowed all of the brandy and, hands trembling, poured more.

* * * * *

Sam walked down the halls of Hogwarts, invisible. She was down in the dungeons, and she paused outside the door that led to Snape's chambers. Muttering a spell, she leaned in to listen at his door. Her hearing magnified magically, she stood silently, but heard nothing save the even, slow breaths of someone sleeping.

"Latibulum," she murmured, trying the door.

It was still locked.

"Ah, well, my pet. We shall have to determine the new password for his chambers, won't we?" A tall, dark-haired man stood at Sam's side. Her mentor.

She jumped. "You scared me!"

He chuckled and snapped his fingers. Suddenly they were in a small study. Sam glanced around the room and saw that a fire was burning but there was no other light in the room. Bookcases lined the walls, with brass sconces at regular intervals. There was a door on one wall--which Sam guessed led to a bedroom and bath--and a battered mahogany partner's desk faced the room's entrance. A battered wooden chair, cracked red leather visible, stood pushed away from the desk, as if its occupant had risen suddenly. A glass-fronted cupboard stood against the wall behind the desk, but the firelight cast its contents into shadow. None of the furniture matched, and the rugs on the floor were more for utilitarian purposes than anything decorative. More books stood in neat piles in the corners of the room, but there was no dust. "Where… where… are we?"

He walked over to her. "I thought we should talk in private. If people overhear you talking to someone they can't see, they're liable to think you crazy."

"I… yes. They will."

"You're doing quite well with the spells I've taught you. The invisibility spell is quite useful, isn't it?"

"Yes. Thank you for teaching it to me. But… you still haven't told me what you want from me."

He stroked her hair. "Samantha. I see so much promise in you. I merely want to see you realize your potential. I'd hate to see talents like yours go to waste. You are brilliant. I chose you. I'm very proud of you." His eyes glittered in the firelight and Sam backed away just a bit.

"However, I would ask one more small favor. If you wouldn't mind."

"Mind? You saved my ass in potions the other day with that advice about the copper and the quinine! And Charms--my grade's already gone up. In fact, my grades have gone up in all my classes, thanks to you."

He waved a hand. "Think nothing of it. It reminds me of when I was a student here. Those were good times."

"You were a student here?"

"Yes."

"How long ago?"

"Long enough."

"What's your name?"

He chuckled. "Nice try, Samantha. I told you I'd tell you if you guessed."

"Right. Hmmm. You look like a…. Christopher."

He shook his head. "No."

"Can't blame a girl for trying."

"No, I could never blame you." He came up behind her, standing quite close, his breath on the back of her neck, and she shivered. He put his hands on her shoulders.

"One more small request, Sam. Just one. Will you do that for me?"
She turned to face him, lost in those blue eyes, and nodded. He smiled darkly.

"Good, my pet." He leaned forward and began to teach her the words of a spell.

As she repeated them, she felt a surge of power, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. With that surge of power came a feeling of rightness, of belonging, of warmth. The feelings made her giddy and with them came a strange desire for more.

He smiled at her. "Perfect. And on your first try. You, Samantha, are what I've been seeking for a long time."

Sam, intoxicated with the power she felt, smiled back at him.

He studied her, and something unspoken passed between them. The firelight made his eyes glow red for just a moment, and they flashed at her.

Sam Fawcett was at peace.

* * * * *

Draco couldn't sleep. After an hour of staring at the drapes around his bed, he got up, irritably pulling them aside. After dressing in practiced silence, he moved just as silently out of his dorm. Once in the hallway, he ducked behind a statue, entering a long low hallway that led to the outside of the castle. The night was cold and clear, stars bright chips of fire against an icy sky. He straightened up and made his way to the lake for an illicit smoke.

And stopped.

A figure was sitting on a rock at the lake's edge, waving what looked to be its wand in short, sharp gestures. A female voice floated back to him, muttering an incantation. He moved closer, careful to do so silently, trying to make out the words of the spell. The air seemed to shimmer and the girl stopped, startled, turning to face him. It was Sam.

Her eyes hardened. "Malfoy."

The two regarded each other for a moment. "What are you doing out here, Sam?"

She shrugged, and rather hastily pocketed her wand. "Looking at the stars. I couldn't sleep. You?"

"The same, actually. What spell were you practicing?"

"A… a mange hex. For Mrs. Norris." Draco raised his eyebrows, catching her hesitation, and wondered why she was lying to him, but said nothing.

She scooted over and patted the rock. "Sit. Keep me company."

Draco hesitated, sensing the signature left behind by Dark magic, then sat anyway.

Sam leaned back, hands braced behind her. "I love to look at the stars. I like to think that there are all these other worlds out there. And maybe someone out there is watching the stars and wondering the same thing."

"Didn't realize you were such a… stargazer."

"At least you didn't call me a starfucker."

"It occurred to me, but Fred Weasley is hardly a star, is he?"

"Oh, I don't know. Granted, he isn't Harry, and I know how much you'd love to be as good a Seeker as Harry." Her eyes glittered, looking almost red in the dim light, and her words stung him with their truth and their harshness.

Draco was silent in the face of her sudden malice. Her eyes triggered a long-ago memory, little more than a shadow. He fought to remember, but gave up, finally changing the subject, wary of Sam for some reason he couldn't define. "Do you know the constellations?"

"No. Just the Big Dipper."

"Hmm. Figures. Okay. Look, see that group of stars?" Sam squinted along Draco's arm, finally nodding.

"That's Lyra. Now, just to the right of it is Hercules." Draco traced the pattern in the sky with his wand. "Now look right above him. That's the constellation Draco. The dragon. See his tail?"

Sam leaned forward, putting one hand on his arm. "Oh! That's wonderful. It's… how do you know all this?" All malice was gone and she was her usual self again.

Draco looked at her, smiling. "When I was little, I'd go in the gardens at the Manor and lay on a blanket in the summer, watching the sky for hours. Counting the shooting stars. I finally got a book and learned them all. In a way, they were my friends. Silent and sure."

He was aware of Sam's gaze, and braced himself for the inevitable sarcastic remark but it never came. Instead she watched him for a moment, then nodded.

"They're always there, aren't they? Something to depend on in an undependable world."

He looked at her, eyes wide. She looked back and a moment of perfect understanding passed between them. Only a moment. He looked away hastily, changing the subject again, aware of a barrier being breached but also aware that he had, in some small measure, gained her trust.

"Now. Above Draco. That's Ursa Minor."

Sam grinned at him. "You should have been a Ravenclaw."

He glared at her. "That's not funny."

"Snob."

"Nerd."

"Priss."

"Prat."

The conversation went rapidly downhill from there.

* * * * *

Two weeks later, the Great Hall was its usual boisterous self, voices ringing off of the walls as Hogwarts began another day. Colin Creevey had abandoned the home fries, preferring now to photograph Harry Potter as he ate.

"Oops! I had my finger over the lens. Sorry, Harry, but I'll have to take another."

"I've got a finger for you, Creevey," Harry muttered.

Sam, pale and tired, meanwhile downed a cup of coffee and reached for more, trying to jolt herself awake. While she slept, her dreams were so vivid that she woke feeling as if she'd not gotten any sleep at all. Her dreams were all of him now, he who was still nameless, and in her dreams he came to her, teaching her things, things that scared her a bit--he scared her a bit--but she felt helpless to resist him, or the things he taught her. He came to her in class on occasion as well, a sly voice whispering the answers into her ear. On a sudden impulse, she pulled out a sheet of parchment and began jotting down every male name she could think of, looking around the Hall for inspiration. Fred, George, Harry, Colin, Dennis, Justin, Terry, Dean, Seamus, Marcus, Blaise, Draco…

Sam stopped.

Where's Draco? He never misses breakfast.

Draco wasn't at the Slytherin table. Looking around, Sam didn't see him at all.

He seemed fine last night. The two had taken to meeting regularly by the lake to watch the stars and sometimes talk. Draco suffered from insomnia and Sam, well, she had started wanting to delay sleep as long as possible.

"Hey, Lisa?"

Lisa looked up from her pancakes. "What?"

"Where's Draco?" Since the two had started seeing each other on a semi-regular basis, surely Lisa would know where he was.

"I don't know. Not at his table? Huh. That's weird. Maybe he overslept."

"Yeah. Or he's fixing his hair."

Lisa looked at her.

"Oh, come on, you know what a priss he is."

Lisa smirked. "He doesn't mind when I mess it up. There are lots of things he doesn't mind, actually. He's a bit kinky."

Sam grimaced. "Please stop. You win."

"I win?"

"Yes. The Too Much Information contest."

Lisa grinned. "He has this fantasy about--"

"Samantha." Enter Snape, stage right. Lisa choked and Sam jumped as Snape's cool voice stopped their conversation quite effectively.

"Miss Fawcett. Will you come with me, please?"

"Er, Professor, I can explain about the koi pond. See, Fred thought--" Sam stopped as Snape put his hand on her elbow and led her out of the Great Hall.

"Er, is this about, you know, what I found out?" Sam asked quietly.

"Not as such. I wanted to let you know that Narcissa Malfoy was found dead last night in Switzerland."

"She… Mrs. Malfoy… what happened?"

"No one really knows yet. Draco was told last night and has gone back to the Manor."

"Oh. That's… horrible. Is he okay?"

Some unfamiliar emotion swept across Snape's patrician features but was quickly gone. "No, he isn't actually. He's… well, he asked for you, and I think you might be able to help him."

"He asked for me? Well, sure, I'll help, but…"

"I will inform your professors that you'll be gone for the day."

Sam blinked at him. "You… I should leave now?"

Snape looked down at her, something flickering in his eyes. "He needs someone right now. His father won't be back from Switzerland until tomorrow. He has to take care of a few more things there, and it's better that Draco not be alone."

A voice spoke in her mind. "Go. This could turn out to be quite a useful trip."

And Lucius?

"You have nothing to fear from him as long as I am with you."

Sam looked up at Snape, who was regarding her with narrowed eyes.

"Right, Professor. Let me just get my cloak."