When Worlds Collide

The next month passed us smoothly by in a whirlwind of winter storms, school, sonata practices. . . and for me, magic lessons.

Draco kept his promise about teaching me all the magic he could remember from his six years at Hogwarts. Every evening and weekend that I had free, he and I teamed up in the old tool shed next to my house to practice magic. I learned the spells amazingly quickly, which led Draco to comment that he was glad I didn't go to Hogwarts, as he (and Hermione Granger, for that matter) would have done far worse in class than either Prefect's ego could have borne.

By the end of January, I had learned everything that Draco could teach me--including the spells that were not normally included in the Hogwarts curriculum. The Sectumsempra and the Imperius Curses were learned at Draco's insistence; he said that those two were the curses he had used the most frequently to keep himself alive when angry Death Eaters were on his tail. He had never actually used the Cruciatus Curse; but since he knew first-hand what it was like to be on the receiving end, he insisted on teaching me the basics behind casting that as well. However, when he tried to teach me the Avada Kedavra, I balked. I told him that there was no way I would be using that spell, not even if I was going to die first. He relented, and there our lessons ended on a sober note.

Every so often, when his part-time job and ever-demanding stepfather would let him, Dirk would join us to learn some basic spell techniques. Draco would let Dirk borrow the hawthorn wand while coaching the two of us on our postures, our gestures, our pronunciation, everything. Whatever happened to be even the slightest bit wrong, he was sure to pick up and scold us for it. Then, at the end of every session, he would pair us up: sometimes Dirk and I, other times Dirk and Draco, but most often Draco and I would face off in a mock duel, using whatever offensive and defensive spells each of us knew. More often than not, Dirk and I would give up using magic and tackle Draco the Muggle way, causing the latter to give up his teaching with much laughter and riotous wrestling.

Finally, as the gusty winds of January turned into the blowing rains of February, Draco declared that we had learned enough regular magic to qualify us for Apparition tests. It was only a matter of us learninghow to Apparate.

Thus, Dirk and I found ourselves shivering in my backyard on one of the few dry afternoons of the month, facing a very stern-looking Draco holding two hula hoops he had found in my garage. We had already spent the previous hour in the tool shed, poring over Draco's handwritten notes on the theory behind Apparition, before Draco would let us come out into the bitterly cold yard to practice. None of us were wearing coats, as Draco said that any extra clothing could hinder our Apparition, even getting us splinched--and neither of us was in the mood to be splinched.

"Now, remember the three D's--" Draco began, but Dirk cut him off impatiently with a wave of his hand.

"Yeah, yeah, destination, determination, deliberation, we got it already," Dirk gritted through his teeth, clenched tight against the cold. "Sheesh. . . if we don't start out soon, I'm going to freeze to death, blast this Minnesota weather."

"Hear, hear," I muttered, stamping my feet to keep them warm.

Draco merely shook his head. "You Muggles. . . never seem to be able to think out of the box," he wagged a finger at us playfully. That was when I realized that he didn't seem to be affected by the cold wind at all--the prat had gone and cast a warming charm on himself!

Cursing Draco under my breath, I quickly cast the charm on myself and Dirk, who gave me a grateful nod, before turning back to face Draco, who was setting up the hoops several feet away from us.

"All right." He straightened up and looked each of us in the eye as he spoke. "I want you two to close your eyes and imagine yourself squeezing down into as small of a space as you can--say, a ball or a tiny box or something. Then, visualize the spot you're trying to get to as best you can--in this case, inside the hoop--spin on your heels counterclockwise, and try to move yourself there with your magic." Then, seeming to notice our confused expressions, "Does that make sense?"

"Not really," Dirk sighed, "but can we just get this over with? I'm getting cold again."

Draco rolled his eyes before pointing at Dirk melodramatically. "Then do me the honor of starting."

Dirk closed his eyes (not before muttering something about what a jerk Draco was) and spun on his heels as directed. Nothing happened, unless you could count him toppling over onto his bum as a precursor to Apparition.

Next was my turn. Again, no result apart from me being dizzier than I would have liked.

Draco snorted at our efforts, then Apparated into the hoop in front of me with a loud POP! "It's not like the regular magic we've been working on. Nothing helps more than lots and lots of practice," he commented from inside the hoop. Dirk and I exhaled loudly with obvious exasperation. This was going to take a while.

I tried again, and again, and yet again, and still nothing happened. I was getting so used to being able to pick up a spell within the first try that this non-responsive Apparition business was starting to irritate me. Dirk got up from the ground and began to practice as well. I was awfully glad that no one else but Draco was around to see us, as our repeated spinning around on our feet and increasing amounts of cursing as time wore on was making Dirk and I look rather foolish indeed.

Finally, after many, many tries (I had lost count around twenty-three), Dirk Apparated into his hoop--minus his left ear.

"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!"

Draco was at his side in a flash, and I saw only a glimpse of Dirk's disembodied ear suspended in mid-air next to me before it was reattached to Dirk's head with a flick of Draco's wand. Dirk was, at this point, curled up on the ground, holding his head with both hands and moaning. Draco was standing over him, looking at Dirk with a mixture of amusement and pity. I came over and squatted next to Dirk, concerned for his well-being by this point. "Feel better yet?" Draco asked Dirk after a minute had passed.

"Oh, sure," Dirk grumbled, rubbing his left ear. "Except for the fact that my ear feels like it's been torn off with a pair of tweezers, I feel just lovely."

"Well, that's what it's like to be splinched," Draco said matter-of-factly. "You must've missed on one of the three D's--most people are bad with the determination part; but for me, it's deliberation." He stood up and pulled me up with him. "Back to it again," he said to me. "And remember, don't make the same mistake your friend just did. . . splinching is a right pain in the arse, believe me."

I nodded, then walked back to my starting point and closed my eyes. Dirk's accident had gotten me unbelievably focused on the task at hand, and I felt magic swirling in my gut that I hadn't felt before. Into the hoop, into the hoop, I repeated over and over in my head, visualizing the spot where I wanted to end up. I spun on my heels. . . and felt a sudden, tight squeeze on all sides before being released. I opened my eyes to find myself inside the hoop, with Draco looking very pleased standing next to me.

I was still in the middle of my spin when I Apparated into the hoop; therefore, I lost my balance as soon as I fully materialized. However, before I could fall over, Draco had grabbed my arm and held me upright--so that I was standing much closer to him than I ever had before. His warm breath steamed up part of my glasses. For some inexplicable reason, my heart began to pound in my ears, and I felt slightly faint all of a sudden.

"Are you all right?" he asked me softly, looking concerned. I saw relief flood his eyes as I nodded.

Dirk broke the spell with a loud "Ahem!" that made Draco release my arm and back away quickly. He shook himself almost imperceptibly before giving me a thumbs up and going over to help Dirk, who was standing at the starting line again and impatient to try again. I had to blink several times to clear myself of the strange emotions that were threatening to overpower me. A half-formed question, one that I simply couldn't brush to the side, slipped past the barriers of my subconscious and wormed its way into my mind as I watched Draco help Dirk learn how to Apparate without splinching himself.

Was I really falling in love--with Draco Malfoy?

WWC WWC WWC WWC WWC

Once our magic lessons were finished, I found Draco to be growing more and more secretive over the next week or two. He would spend hours in the now-empty tool shed while I was at school, casting strong wards on the shed before he left so that I wouldn't be able to break in, even if I wanted to. When I attempted to question him on his activities, he would brusquely tell me to mind my own business if I wanted to keep my nose in the same region of my face. Of course, I desisted; only time would tell what Draco was up to, I thought--and I was right.

On the evening before Valentine's Day, there was a huge snowstorm that dumped nearly eight inches of snow over Cedar Mills. Of course, school was cancelled for the day, meaning that Draco and I had Valentine's Day to ourselves. When I asked him what he wanted to do, he simply smiled and said that he wanted to show me something; but we'd have to do it outside, someplace where people were not likely to visit.

After some searching on MapQuest, I found the perfect spot: a medium-sized park several miles from my house. It took a bit of coaching on Draco's part, but I managed to Apparate there first using the GPS coordinates only. I had to wait several minutes in the snow-covered clearing by myself, as Draco had to pack something to bring along "without your inquisitive eyes boring a hole through the back of my head," as he put it.

When he finally arrived, he was carrying a long package wrapped in brown paper and tied up with twine. Before I had the chance to ask him what it was, he handed it to me. As I touched the wrapping, I felt a strong surge of magic from within the package.

"This is for you," he said to me with a shy smile. "Consider it my payment for everything you've done for me so far." I stood there, staring at him in shock. When I didn't move, he nudged my hand that was holding the package. "Go on. . . open it."

I untied the twine, trembling slightly now, and ripped away the wrapping. When I saw what was inside, the brown paper slipped from my now-nerveless fingers onto the ground. In my hands was a well-polished broom, one that Draco seemingly had taken from my garage, and it radiated pure magic. There was only one reason I could think of. . .

"It's a flying broomstick," I whispered, running my hands lovingly up and down the smooth handle.

"Do you--do you like it?" Draco asked timidly after a few moments of pause.

"Like it?" I turned to him, grinning broadly. "Like it? God, Draco, I love it! Do you know how long I've dreamed of flying since you came here?" I paused, suddenly realizing the point of all his seclusion in the tool shed. "Did you make this yourself?"

Draco nodded. "When I was younger, I was obsessed with Quidditch and flying in general. I ended up dismantling my Nimbus 2001 and putting it back together again, I was so fascinated by it. Father let me do it, saying that it was a worthy hobby of a pureblood young wizard." He shrugged. "The result was that I learned all the spells necessary to make a broomstick fly by the time I was thirteen."

"Wow," I whispered as I weighed the broom in my hand. It felt perfectly balanced, almost ready to leap into the air then and there.

Draco watched me for a moment longer before asking me the question I was waiting for. "Do you want to fly it?"

I started giggling like an excited schoolgirl (which I was, of course). "Hell, yes!"

Draco smiled at my response. "Put the broom on the ground and call it to your hand first--that way, it knows who's its master."

I reverently set the broom on the snow next to me before holding my hand over it and shouting, "Up!" The broom shot upwards into the palm of my hand, quivering as it waited for my next move.

"Now, mount it. Straddling it like a horse might be the easiest for you at this point, although there are many girls who prefer side-saddle flying."

Not this tomboy, I thought as I threw one leg over the broom. As soon as I did, the broom lifted me so that I was hovering three feet off the ground. I grinned. Oh, boy, this was starting to look fun.

"Whoa, not so fast!" Draco was looking concerned. "You shouldn't start flying until--ESTELLA!"

Too late. I was already in the air, alternately laughing and shrieking with delight as I looped and soared through the grey sky. The feeling of being able to fly through the air with no help, save a broom. . . it is total adrenaline and clarity of mind at the same time, a happy medium between recklessness and control that intoxicates the person on the broom to no end. It was incredible, to say the least. Not to mention that Draco had done an excellent job of charming the broom to fly properly; the broom turned with the slightest touch in the desired direction, and I felt almost weightless as I flew.

There was no question about it: Draco had given me the perfect gift.

Around fifteen minutes later, I did a little loop-de-loop and landed in front of a very shocked Draco. "That--was--amazing," he managed to choke out as I beamed at him. "I've never seen any first-timer fly like that--well, except for Potter, that is. You're a born Quidditch player, definitely. Slytherin would have won the House Cup by now if you were on the team."

I laughed his praise to the side, then motioned for him to get on the broom. "Come on, let's fly!"

Draco backed away, looking aghast. "No way! That broom would never hold the two of us!"

"You're too modest. You did an amazing job of charming this broom, and you know it. And besides," I pointed out with a smirk worthy of a Malfoy, "you didn't think I could fly on my first try, either."

Silence. Then, "Touché," Draco sighed as he clambered onto the broom behind me.

WWC WWC WWC WWC WWC

We didn't land until many hours later, after the sun had set and just as the moon was beginning to crest over the horizon. We had soared around the sky for the entire afternoon, laughing together and taking turns casting heating charms on us to keep us warm. Draco told me about the rules of Quidditch, and I pointed out the familiar landmarks as we flew many yards above them. It was a beautiful ride, and the constant touch of his arms around me during the flight made me realize. . .

I was indeed in love with this handsome Slytherin from another world.

The question was, did he feel the same way about me?

WWC WWC WWC WWC WWC

Once we Apparated home, I went inside first to make us some hot cocoa; the heating charms had certainly been effective, but nothing beat the cold Minnesota winters better than a warm drink. Draco had stayed outside to put away the broom in the tool shed and undo the many wards he had placed on it. As he hadn't yet come in when the cocoa was finished, I cast a temperature charm on the mugs so that they would cool to just the right temperature before going outside with the drinks to find him.

He was standing in our backyard, arms akimbo, staring out at the star-speckled sky and the full moon that hung in its midst, a pure white orb amongst the speckled jewels scattered on black velvet. I stood some ways behind him for a while, silently observing how the bright moonlight shone in his blond hair and made it look like white gold. I was sure that the moon gave his deep grey eyes a shine of their own as well. My heart pounded faster just imagining it.

I cleared my throat to get his attention. . . and to calm down my rampant emotions. "It's a beautiful night."

Draco turned to me, a soft smile on his face. I handed him a mug of cocoa; he took it from me gently, cupping his hands around the mug for warmth and inhaling the sweet fragrance that misted from the drink. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," I corrected him. "I should be the one thanking you for such a wonderful present."

He shook his head. "It was all I could do for all that you've done for me." He sidled over so that he was right beside me and smiled. "Besides, you also gave me the time of my life back there. I haven't flown on a broomstick for nearly a year, and I really missed it. It was wonderful, flying with you--I almost felt like I was back home again."

I merely nodded, as I found that my voice had disappeared. We stood there for a while longer, sipping at our cocoa in silence and staring out at the night sky.

"It's so beautiful," I finally whispered. Draco nodded. "It reminds me of what Father used to sing. . ." And before I could stop myself, I was softly singing the Galician poem I had learned when I was six years old.

Lúa descolorida
como cor de ouro pálido,
vesme i eu non quixera
me vises de tan alto.
Ó espaso que recorres,
lévame, caladiña, nun teu raio. . .

As I sang, I felt Draco's arm slowly work their way around my upper back, encircling me with his warmth.

Astro das almas orfas,
lúa descolorida,
eu ben sei que n'alumas
tristeza cal a mina.
Vai contalo ó teu dono,
e dille que me leve adonde habita. . .

I allowed myself to sink into his body, resting my head on his shoulder while I finished out the last stanza.

Mais non lle contes nada,
descolorida lúa,
pois nin neste nin noutros
mundos teréis fertuna.
Se sabe onde a morte
ten a morada escura,
dille que corpo e alma xuntamente
me leve adonde non recorden nunca,
nin no mundo en que estóu nin nas alturas.

There was a short silence as the last note faded away into the air. Then, Draco murmured, "You sing beautifully."

"Thank you." I could feel myself blushing. I wasn't an opera singer, but enough people had commented me on my sweet singing voice that I knew Draco's compliment wasn't mere flattery. And somehow, Draco's opinion meant more to me than everyone else's combined.

"What is that song, anyway?"

I looked up into his face as I spoke. "The poem itself is called 'Lúa Descolorida.' It's in Gallego, the language spoken near my father's hometown in Spain. I don't know about the music itself--some regional lullaby, I think."

His grey eyes penetrated mine. "Would you teach it to me?" His arm pulled me just a little closer to him.

"It would be my pleasure. I have a copy of the text in the library; I can give it to you, if you'd like." I smiled at him, and he returned the favor brilliantly. Oh, how I longed to remain in his gaze forever. . . I shivered slightly at the thought.

Draco mistook my shivering for the cold. "Merlin's beard! You don't have a coat on! I'm so sorry, Estella. . . we've been out here for so long, and I didn't even notice. Here, let's go inside." He released me and turned to go, effectively ending my romantic reverie.

With a small sigh, I followed him back into the house. Before walking through the kitchen doorway, however, I turned back and gazed at the moon. It was still there, smiling down on me, comforting me with its presence. "Do you think there's any hope for me, lúa descolorida?" I breathed.

The moon continued to shine as brightly as always.