The Princes of Fire & Ice

The Princes of Fire & Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I´ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

~Fire and Ice, by Robert Frost~

***

CHAPTER IX: Prelude to a Dance

I´m so sick of people´s expectations
Leaves me tired all the time
If your home´s full of useless aggravation
Then don´t bring it to mine.

~Robbie Williams, "Singing for the Lonely"~

"I am going to kill Malfoy, I swear."

"Now, we don´t know exactly what happened."

"Yes we do; we both saw him leave. He was looking for Malfoy so he could talk with him and - and look what happened!"

Harry heard the voices as if they were at the other end of a tunnel. Or maybe it was more like he was underwater.

He shook his head fractionally and felt his whole head begin to pulse in pain. The voices, which he identified as Ron´s and Hermione´s, seemed to pause. Perhaps they had noticed the movement.

Have I opened my eyes yet?

Harry blinked. Nope, still darkness. Straining to get back to full consciousness and reality he forced his eyes to open wide and took in the blurry picture around him as it slowly came into focus.

Ron and Hermione were standing over him, and figures that he thought might be Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore were behind them, towards the door. He was in the hospital wing; what a surprise.

"Ah, Harry, you´re up." It was Hermione, peering down at him with apparent relief and concern.

"How are you feeling?" Ron asked, his freckled face peering down at Harry.

"Just smashing, thanks," Harry mumbled, feeling the pain in his head grow as he began to speak.

Hermione leaned in closer to him, perhaps perceiving that he wasn´t able to sit up yet.

"What happened? Was it Malfoy?"

It took Harry a moment to recall what on earth she was going on about. Then it hit him.

Draco. The hallway. The amulet. Getting slammed into the wall...

"Ow," Harry winced as he forced himself up with his hands.

"Don´t push him," Madam Pomfrey called over, bustling her way to her patient´s bedside as he moaned. "Honestly, everyone is always in a rush to hear everything explained; no matter he isn´t well enough or strong enough yet."

"It´s okay," Harry said weakly. "My head just hurts."

"I can imagine," Professor Dumbledore said, finally breaking his silence. He approached Harry´s bed slowly, a look in his eye that Harry knew was a sign that the headmaster knew more than they all thought he did about what had happened. "A third year Slytherin found you slumped against the wall outside of the Potions dungeon, quite unconscious. Can you tell us what happened?"

"It was Malfoy, wasn´t it?" Ron jumped in. Harry sighed and looked from the worried faces of his friends to that of Dumbledore. Dumbledore had always made him feel safe, but he also unnerved Harry when it came to withholding information. And he wasn´t sure what he could tell them.

Not that he didn´t have a small urge to tell them.

Yes, it was Malfoy. It´s the second time he´s slammed me up against a wall, though, honestly, the last time was more fun. And that time, when he was kissing and touching me - well - that wasn´t a first either. You see, Professor Dumbledore, Malfoy is part of the plans of Voldemort and I´m not really sure where he stands with them, but he has a very powerful amulet back on now which makes him very strong, which is how I got my concussion. I think you should do something about it.

He was really beginning to get annoyed with this game he and Malfoy seemed to be playing; dancing around each other with occasional forays into verbal or physical fights, and then ignoring each other...

Or groping each other...

"I... I don´t remember," he muttered weakly, trying to block out Ron and Hermione´s joint looks of surprise and suspicion.

"You don´t remember?" Ron asked, his voice an octave higher. He seemed ready to go on about Malfoy some more when Dumbledore silenced him with a gentle hand motion.

"Now, Harry, can you tell us what you do remember?"

"Um. I was in the Gryffindor room and... decided to go find Malfoy to... talk to him... and then..."

"And then you two obviously got into a fight and he slammed you into the wall," Ron said irritably. Harry threw a desperate look to Hermione, who took the hint, if a little resignedly, and pulled Ron back from the bedside and whispered something in his ear. Ron did not look happy about it.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, would you excuse us for a moment? I would like to speak with Harry alone."

Oh great, now he was going to have to lie to Dumbledore´s face.

Then again, maybe he could just filter some of the truth by leaving out a few details.

The really important details.

Hermione nodded slowly and nudged Ron out of the room with a wave to Harry and a supportive smile. Ron still looked upset Harry hadn´t named Malfoy yet, and the Slytherin boy hadn´t been shipped off to Azkaban.

After they had walked out, and Madam Pomfrey had returned to her office, Dumbledore took a seat on the edge of Harry´s bed and looked at him for a moment.

"Harry, would you like to tell me what happened at the Malfoy estate?"

Harry started. He had expected more probing questions about the fight in the hallway, which he had suspected Dumbledore knew had everything to do with Draco. But... the events at the estate... weeks ago...

"Um... when?" he asked dumbly. Dumbledore smiled at him kindly, making Harry feel even guiltier for not divulging the whole story right then and there.

"Well, Harry, did you really think you had left Hogwarts unnoticed? Or, Mr. Malfoy for that matter." Dumbledore smiled and rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "We were just about to enact our daring rescue plan when we were informed that both of you had turned up, unharmed, at the train station and were on your way back."

"Oh."

Dumbledore smiled before his face turned serious again.

"Harry, Lucius Malfoy is a dangerous man. You saw him yourself in the graveyard at the end of fourth year."

"I know," Harry said, closing his eyes and trying not to remember those moments. Cedric´s lifeless, cold grey eyes - darker than Draco´s - staring up and him, the cold, harsh voice, the circle of Death Eaters, the faces of all those people he couldn´t save...

"Do you know why he took you to the estate?"

"It was an accident."

Dumbledore looked at Harry, his eyes shining with surprise.

"An accident?"

Harry almost laughed at the headmaster´s reaction. Apparently that wasn´t the answer he had been expecting.

"Yes. He... he just planned to bring Malfoy home and talk with him."

"I see," Dumbledore said, no doubt trying to figure out how Harry `accidentally´ ended up in a Death Eater´s grasp and then how he escaped. "Do you know what he wanted to speak with young Mr. Malfoy about?"

"Not really," Harry lied. "But the Portkey, which was a bottle we were using for our Potions project, took us directly to a cell in the dungeons."

"Lucius Malfoy sent for his son and brought him straight to a cell?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes."

"And you don´t know why?"

"No," Harry repeated his lie, unable to meet the headmaster´s eyes.

Dumbledore seemed to understand that Harry was reluctant to say any more about that moment.

"But in the end you both managed to escape?"

"Yes," Harry said quietly, studying the white bed sheet.

"What happened last night?"

"I... don´t remember," Harry sighed, knowing that Dumbledore would hardly let him get away with that lie. It was quite obvious what had happened.

"It appears you and Mr. Malfoy had a fight," Dumbledore began slowly. Harry sighed; clearly he was going to have to say something. And once again he found himself torn between wanting to tell Dumbledore everything and getting it all off his shoulders and then his instinct to hold back. He thought back to when Draco had stopped him from going to the headmaster´s office.

"Telling Dumbledore about what happened. There´s no need right now. You must learn patience," Draco said haughtily.

"Malfoy," Harry said, his voice hushed, "This isn´t over. Your father will surely act swiftly, and who knows what Voldemort´s ultimate plan is-"

"Exactly," Draco cut in. "And if you tip off Dumbledore I´ll never know."

Did he think he would be hurting Draco´s chances as a spy if he told? But then again, he had no guarantee that Draco wasn´t actually enjoying his role in Voldemort´s plans... recently he seemed even more likely to become a Death Eater and join the forces that Harry would soon have to face down.

Maybe he could just play down the incident.

"Yes, we did have a... fight. But I started it, so, um, I guess I got my punishment," Harry said quickly, trying to get the subject dropped as quickly as possible.

"Why were you going to speak with him?"

"Uh... it was about some Quidditch stuff. We, uh, saw him practicing earlier and I just... wanted to... double check..." Harry trailed off and covered his face in his hands. He knew he couldn´t lie well, and trying to lie to Dumbledore was very much pushing it.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked after a moment.

"Okay, I went down there to confront him about some things we left unfinished in the dungeon. Not much, but there were some words said and stuff, and... as usual we began fighting. But I went to him already annoyed, and I pushed him first."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, as if considering this new information.

"It seems your relationship with Mr. Malfoy has become more... volatile since your return. There was the incident at the prefects´ meeting, and now this."

"Oh, it´s always been like this," Harry commented helpfully. He was surprised to see the headmaster laugh. "What´s so... funny?"

"Oh," Dumbledore said, looking at him with the trademarked twinkle. "I´m reminded of previous rivalries; Sirius and Professor Snape, for starters. And I´ve had some recent conversations of interest with Professor Snape in regards to Mr. Mal... Ah, but you should get your rest."

With that, Dumbledore stood up abruptly and made for the door, leaving Harry with a dozen new questions.

"About Malfoy..." he stuttered, confused and intrigued, but Dumbledore just looked at him intently.

"We are trying to keep you safe in these dangerous times, Harry," he said in a lowered voice. "If anything has happened, or happens, please... feel free to come and talk to me."

His flowing azure robe was the last thing Harry caught sight of as the door to the hospital wing shut with a soft click.

He sighed again, not sure where he stood now and what he was supposed to do next.

***

Draco bit down on his lip and was unconsciously tugging at his hair with his fingers in anger and frustration.

This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening...

He rocked back and forth on the bed dramatically; maybe a little too dramatically, but he was a Malfoy and he was quite pissed off.

He was pissed off that Harry had been fool enough to come down and confront him about the amulet; and that he had been required to hurt him; and that he cared at all that he had to hurt Harry.

And he hated his father, for being such a bastard, for seeing his son only as something he could give to his Master; something that would be a total waste of effort if he did not become the servant they had fated him to be at birth.

The letter had arrived from his father, and as usual it had self-destructed. Draco glared at the ashes visible on his bed. The words were already burned into his memory.

Draco.

Do not get overconfident; your foolishness has caused several problems in the past. If you disobey any of your orders or fail in any way, you will have to deal not only with myself, but our Master. Do not embarrass me or I will make you regret your failure.

And keep an eye on Harry Potter; we will be planning for him shortly.

Draco muffled a cry of anger and slammed his fist into his pillow. He hated is father. He hated Voldemort. He had to obey them to live long enough to rebel.

He hated Harry. He had always had hated Harry. He had to hate him in order to keep sane.

But he wasn´t sure he was doing a good job of this. In the hallway, even as Harry accused him and pushed him... Draco couldn´t help but realize how long it had been since he had been that close to Harry, and since they had even touched.

Had Harry picked up on his accelerated heartbeat when he was pushing into his chest? Harry didn´t know how much danger he was in when he interfered.

And yet, that was what he was working for; the end result of his choice was already decided. Draco was acting for the side that would try to kill Harry. And they might just succeed.

And what was he going to do about it? Watch? Help?

Because he couldn´t warn Harry, or help him. That would be stupid. He could get himself killed. That would mean... he cared; and that he would risk his own safety for Harry.

This is not happening, this is not happening...

He was not caring about Harry. He could only care about himself; he had to look out for himself. Harry was only getting caught in the web of fate, and it was tangled enough without Draco getting involved. As his father had often told him, he had his own destiny. He would have to fight for his own greatness, and Harry could not distract him.

So, he decided he wasn´t.

Not in the slightest.

Not at all...

He punched the pillow again, smothered his face in it, and groaned in frustration.

***

Hermione walked through the door, into the common room, with her hands full of books. Immediately, Seamus hurried over to give her a hand.

"Oh my! Think you have enough here? Maybe we should go back for a second trip; I´ll bring the trunk..."

"Oh, stop it Seamus!" Hermione laughed over the books as they both set down their stacks on the table. "It was hard to find information, so I had to get a variety of sources."

"I see," he said thoughtfully, looking over the tomes. "Well, I guess they can´t accuse you of not being thorough."

Hermione smirked as she sank down into the couch. "No, they never accuse me of that."

Seamus laughed again and took the seat next to her. "I suppose not."

"Where is everyone?" she asked suddenly.

Seamus looked around idly. "Harry and Ron went off to spy on the Slytherin practice or something - Ron was trying to convince Harry to tell Hooch that Malfoy was going to cheat. I think Ginny went to a study group and... Dean is helping Neville out with the latest in Snape´s horrible essay assignments."

"So, you were down here by yourself?"

"I knew you had to come back from the library soon, I was waiting." His eyes glanced up and caught hers and she felt a blush rise in her cheeks. He had been waiting for her...

She tried to smile to hide her blush but felt sure he had caught it. He cleared his throat and indicated the books.

"What did you discover, my little academic?"

Hermione laughed shyly and then tried to concentrate on what she had discovered.

Focus...

"Um, actually, like I said, it was hard to discover much about any of them. I found some entries about the Grey Lady, a mention of Peeves, and some papers on the Fat Friar, back when he was Brother Isaac."

"Brother Isaac?"

"Yes," Hermione smiled.

"What about the Bloody Baron, or Nearly Headless Nick?"

"Well, that is actual what was the weirdest thing," Hermione said, leaning in conspiratorially. "I found out birth dates, and death dates, but that was about all. Well, I mean, we know Sir Nick was beheaded - or nearly so - but... it´s very odd, I think, even more so than the lack of information on all of the ghosts in general. I would think the library would stock sources about people who are now haunting their halls, but I guess not." Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "Though... when I mentioned this to Madam Pince she got... annoyed. More so than usual, and she also got that shifty look in her eye."

Seamus grinned mischievously. "What do you think she´s hiding, Detective Granger?"

"Books in the Restricted Section, what else?"

Seamus´ eyes shot up. "Hmmm, well, prefect´s privilege..."

"Nope, I tried that."

"Could you ask Noel? I mean, he is Head Boy."

"That´s a good idea," Hermione said. "But then again, the dance is the day after tomorrow and I guess it isn´t really that important in the overall scheme of things."

Seamus shrugged. "It is just a Hallowe´en theme."

"I guess part of the entertainment could be a Q&A session with those two," Hermione said with a shrewd laugh.

"Oh, that would almost be as good as watching Harry and Malfoy quarrel," Seamus mused.

"Yes," Hermione said aloud, her thoughts turned to Harry and his ongoing battle with Malfoy. She didn´t notice that Seamus had moved closer to her until his fingers lightly brushed the hair off her face and behind her ear.

"What are you thinking of now?" he whispered in her ear. She felt a tingle move from the nerves in her earlobe down through her spine, and caught her breath. Recently she had become closer to Seamus, obviously, but it was hard to reconcile the sultry boy before her now with the practical joker she had known for six years. However, she discovered that her mind had already made the change. She trusted him, she liked him, and she wanted to get closer to him.

With a shy smile she reached out and grabbed his arm and held his hand tightly.

"Harry, and the danger he is in, and how Malfoy scares me more than ever because I believe he would be a serious enemy." Her smile turned a little sad and she sighed. "I guess it´s what I worry about often. Everything is just so... up in the air."

"I know," Seamus replied, with an understanding nod. He pulled her closer to him, so that her head was resting gently on his shoulder. With this motion she felt a thousand butterflies flutter in her chest, but with the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing she began to feel warm, comforted and safe.

After a few minutes of silence she found herself wrapping her own arms more tightly around his waist. She could feel the warmth of his skin underneath his clothes and she inhaled his scent deeply through his shirt, as she brought her head against his chest.

Without a word Seamus began tenderly playing with her hair, brushing it down with his fingers and continuing to use them to trace down her ear, her neck...

Hermione felt goosebumps of pleasure cover her skin and relaxed into herself with Seamus´ sensual but shy touches.

"Seamus?" she asked softly, breaking the silence.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Hmmm?"

She tilted her head up to see him looking down vaguely confused.

"Thanks for what?"

She grinned impishly at him and then buried her face back into his chest, laughing softly.

"`Hey - that tickles!" he grinned, looking down at her. When she responded only by giggling harder he shook his head. "You´re taking after me too much," he said with mock gravity.

As Hermione smiled at this, his heartbeat pulsing steadily through her ear, she felt a happiness and lightness that had been missing for a while under the cloud of imminent doom that always seemed to surround her and her friends.

"Just... thank you, for this. For everything," she whispered into his shirt and sighed contentedly as he wrapped his own arms around her.

***

"Are you sure you´re feeling okay?" Hermione asked Harry for the thousandth time that day.

"Yes," he responded automatically as they made their way to the prefects´ meeting.

"You´ve had a crazy week, and with the dance tomorrow night and then the Gryffindor-Slytherin game the next day-"

"I´m fine Hermione, really," he said tersely. He caught her doubtful stare, but ignored it and covered up his irritation by holding the door open for her. Without another word to him she stepped inside and he followed. They appeared to be among the last of the prefects to arrive.

Harry took his usual seat and watched idly as Hermione went up and spoke to Noel briefly. He found his mind wandering as he surveyed the faces of his fellow students, the paintings on the walls, the papers on the table, the threads in the oriental carpet beneath their feet...

...the sound of the door creaking open once more... Pansy Parkinson uttering a greeting...

Fuck.

By a miraculous act of willpower Harry avoided looking up as Draco stepped in. A moment later Hermione sat down next to him, so he looked up at her. She looked like she was going to ask him something, but Noel began speaking first.

"Okay everyone, the committee heads have all reported back and we appear to be in good shape for the dance tomorrow. We just wanted to have a quick meeting beforehand to settle any last minute problems and pass on any new details."

"Celestina Warbeck will arrive tomorrow and I have a crew of volunteers ready to help set-up," Justin declared eagerly.

"The house elves in the kitchen have all been supplied with a full menu and we have a group who will assist them in the setting of the tables around the dance floor. We´ll also put up the decorations then," Hannah reported.

Striving as he was to ignore Draco, Harry couldn´t help but catch the Slytherin mouthing something that looked like, "Bloody Hufflepuffs."

"Perfect," Morgana smiled. "As for some details on the theme, I believe Hermione has something to report to us."

Hermione nodded and spoke up.

"Our theme is, of course, the Ghosts of Hogwarts, meaning the lives, personalities, tastes and histories of those who are haunting our very halls," she began. "I went to the library to look up some information on House ghosts first. I´ve assembled a simple fact sheet for all of you to refer to when it comes to décor and other aspects of the party. I´ve already met with Hannah and discussed adding certain dishes to the menu in honor of the ghosts."

"Ghosts can´t eat, Granger," Draco spoke up dryly.

Hermione met his glare.

"That´s not the point, Malfoy," she replied through gritted teeth. "The point is we make available dishes that they would have enjoyed in their past to go with the theme. That´s why it´s a theme."

Giving in to temptation, Harry stared at Draco. Though he did not respond to Hermione, Harry could see a dozen insults swirling about the Slytherin´s head. He was obviouslyonly practicing self-restraint in the interest of keeping his prefect position. Even Snape had affirmed he would be dealt with if there were another incident.

He did, however, make a point to crumple his copy of facts without looking at them. His gaze never left Hermione´s. Harry had an urge to accept the cocky challenge inherent in Draco´s stare.

"Moving along," Noel said, with emphasis in hopes of breaking the tension. "I think everyone knows what they need to do before tomorrow and tomorrow. Of course, the main thing is to have fun." He looked around the table once more. "Anything else?"

No one spoke up. Hermione turned to look at him, but Draco kept his glare on her. Harry kept his own gaze on Draco.

"All right, then. See you all tomorrow; the party starts at 7:00."

"Meeting adjourned," Morgana added.

Harry saw Hermione turn to him out of the corner of his eye, and then he noticed Draco following her gaze.

Their eyes met for the first time since the fight two days ago. Draco didn´t blink, and a small smirk curled his lips.

"Let´s go, Hermione," Harry said, abruptly pushing his chair back and getting up. Hermione scurried to follow him as he made for the door.

As they reached the threshold Draco stepped out and blocked the way.

"Malfoy," Harry muttered in a warning tone. Silently Malfoy stepped to one side, allowing enough room for Harry and Hermione to exit.

But then he followed them out.

Noel was the last one to exit the room and shut the door. As he passed the two Gryffindors with Malfoy, he gave Harry a questioning look. Harry waved him on. Reluctantly, the Head Boy left the three of them alone.

Harry immediately turned to Malfoy bitterly. "Forget it, Malfoy. I´m done talking with you."

"Now, now, Potter..." Malfoy clucked.

"I´m done," Harry declared. "A few times I thought you might have changed - but that was a mistake. Nothing has changed between us. We´ll always be fighting on opposite sides and one day when war breaks out you´ll find you picked the losing side. I´ll only be left standing."

"No need to be so high and mighty, let alone so optimistic," Draco said snidely. "Don´t act so wounded. I never made you any promises. I took the risk of freeing you too, but I´ve asked for nothing in return but for you to stay out of it. If poking your nose around where it doesn´t belong has got you hurt, then it´s your own damn fault."

"This is your fault, Malfoy. I listened to you-" Harry paused as he remembered Hermione was right behind him. He cleared his throat. "I will not listen to you, so give it up."

"Of course you won´t listen - common sense is over your head. That´s fine with me, you can self-destruct if you like."

Harry was about to retort when Ron walked up and stood next to Hermione.

"Leave him alone, Malfoy."

Draco turned to him with an ice-cold stare.

"Tell him to leave me alone. I don´t want to have anything to do with you, any of you -including your sister, Weasley," Draco growled, looking pointedly at Ron. "Tell her to stop ogling me all the time. I don´t go out with whiny, insignificant little leeches."

Ron lunged forward towards Draco, but Harry pulled him back and stepped forward himself.

"Don´t ever talk about Ginny that way," he spat.

Draco smirked at him and cocked his head thoughtfully.

"Ah yes, you´re taking her to the Hallowe´en Dance, aren´t you?" He gave a disdainful sneer. "Leading her on... knowing she fancies you but you don´t fancy her. But you´ll string her along anyway if it suits your purpose." He leaned in towards Harry´s face. "Perhaps you have more in common with the great Tom Marvolo Riddle than we once thought, eh Potter? And as for Ginny, well, she really knows how to pick them!"

Floored by this accusation, it took Harry a moment to react. When he did lunge at Draco he was too late. The Slytherin had already turned and begun striding away from them.

"How do you know about Tom Riddle and Ginny?" Harry yelled at his back. Draco paused and turned around. He sneered at Harry, shook his head, and with a laugh kept walking.

Harry swore out loud.

"Bastard," Ron joined in. "I´m going to kill him, seriously. He kisses Ginny to piss me off and he insults her and he insults Hermione and you, Harry, and he beats you up and..."

"Calm down, Ron. You too, Harry," Hermione stepped in.

"Arg!" Ron exclaimed. He turned to Harry. "Just tell Dumbledore everything he´s done and get him out of here!"

"Ron!" Hermione shouted, grabbing his shoulders. "Calm down."

"Ron, it´s not that easy," Harry replied quietly. "There´s a lot more involved; a lot more at stake."

"What?" Ron cried out. "What could he possibly do? With Dumbledore here?"

"Ron, he managed to take Harry away to his house," Hermione said softly.

"But you said Dumbledore knew! Plus, if we get Malfoy out of the picture now, Lucius Malfoy won´t have such easy access."

"I agree, but it is much more complicated than that," Harry muttered. "Look, I´m sorry he mentioned Ginny like that and everything. But ultimately, this is between him and me and while I want to have nothing to do with him, if he won´t leave well enough alone I´ll finish this."

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked worriedly. Harry shrugged.

"Forget it. He says he wants me to leave him alone. That´s what I´ve been trying to do. Maybe it´ll work."

"Until the next time Lucius Malfoy orders him to do something to you," Ron said irritably. "I bet he´s got a spy network that lets him know every time his precious son insults you or attacks you. I bet it´s part of the bloody plan."

Harry nodded slowly in agreement and then paused, running Ron´s last words back through his head. Nothing else came to him so he shrugged again and sighed. His pulse was finally slowing down, as was his breathing.

"It doesn´t matter now. Let´s get back to the common room."

***

There were an equal number of positives and negatives when it came to having red hair, Ginny decided as she stood in front of her wardrobe. You could never go wrong with black, as her red hair would make her stand out - but it wasn´t her first choice. Reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks were an automatic no-no. Browns had to be a striking shade that brought out the warmth of her eyes, but a dress that was completely brown wasn´t appealing. Blues were more demure, while purples and violets held promise - but she didn´t want to appear ostentatiously flashy. That was the same problem with silver and gold as well.

Unless she did want to be flashy and get noticed. What was so wrong with that?

She stood in front of the new dress, which was white, as it hung from its hanger awaiting her color-changing spell.

There was another option. She had always believed that red hair looked gorgeous when complimented by dark forest green. But she had reservations about this color for obvious reasons.

She was at Hogwarts. She was a Gryffindor. People were extra-sensitive when it came to the colors one wore. Green was through and through a Slytherin color. Of course, maybe she was worrying too much. People would probably not even notice normally except...

...except she was going with Harry Potter. She simply couldn´t wear Slytherin green when she was going to be Harry´s partner.

Harry.

He had asked her. Well, he had asked her after Ron had mentioned it, but no matter. Harry had strength of character. He had stood up to Lucius Malfoy and faced down Tom Riddle in all his forms. He was not intimated or persuaded into doing things he didn´t want to do.

So, he wanted to take her to the dance. This was the moment of her life that she had been waiting for since she was ten years old. She couldn´t mess it up.

"Caerulea," she whispered, waving her wand over the dress. The dress melted from virginal white into a cerulean blue.

Ginny grabbed the dress and admired the color, holding it up to herself in front of the mirror.

"Why, isn´t that lovely, dear," the mirror cooed. "You look very pretty. What a nice young dress for a nice young girl."

Ginny cringed. She didn´t want to be a `nice young girl´. She wanted a bit of spice, a bit of excitement. She had a desire for the unexpected and the mysterious.

She remembered her conversations in the diary with Tom Riddle... and then the surprise kiss Malfoy had given her.

Draco Malfoy. He was definitely unexpected and... unpleasant? Evil? Sexy?

Ginny shook her head quickly, trying to re-focus on the task at hand.

Choose a color for the dress, the dress for the dance, the dance with Harry... you´re going with Harry, for crying out loud. Get it together!

She pointed her wand at the dress again.

"Candida."

In her mind she pictured Harry, his unruly brown hair, his shy smile, his green eyes...

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad...

Ginny blushed at the memory of her amateur attempts at love poetry when she was eleven years old. A shadow crossed her thoughts when she remembered who had helped her compose the poem, to whom she had confided the whole thing to...

Forget him. Think only of Harry.

She loved Harry´s eyes. She liked how clear, open and honest they were. She loved that shade of green. That wasn´t a Slytherin shade; it was too pure and too perfect.

That settled it. She would turn the dress green, but the color would be about Harry. Because of his eyes - and a memory of her first hilarious attempt to tell him how she felt.

And because, frankly, she still believed she looked her best in green.

She waved her wand over the dress one last time. "Viridis!"

***

Draco entered the Slytherin common room feeling rather calm. He hadn´t been so sure of himself in a few weeks, but now everything seemed under control. He had given Harry the message; clearly Harry would have no other choice than to leave him alone. And that was what he wanted, what he needed if he was going to stay sane.

And loyal. And alive.

He barely nodded at his fellow Slytherins as he passed and only Pansy Parkinson stopped him.

"The Gryffindor Trio didn´t give you any problems after the meeting, did they?" she inquired. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"What would give you the idea that they would?"

"Whatever, I was just making sure. Those three always end up being trouble, and there are too many crucial plans in action right now."

"How enlightening of you, Parkinson. Now fuck off," Draco said with dull irritation.

"Get over yourself, Malfoy. I know your father. If you fail-""

"Have I failed? Does it look like I´m failing?" Draco lashed out at her. "Everything is going according to plan, you know. You were there in those meetings. You´ve seen me. It´s fine. Now, leave me alone!"

"Fine," she said, backing down a bit. Then she completely changed gears and batted her eyelashes at him. "You´re still taking me to the dance tomorrow night, right?"

Draco gagged internally at her cooing voice. Oh, the sacrifices he made in the name of family and duty.

"Yes, of course. Now really, me alone!"

With that parting shot he stormed off into his room and slammed the door. He usually didn´t mind Pansy Parkinson, and recently she had been invaluable when it came to his own plans. But he was sick of people on all sides questioning him when he didn´t know what he was doing half the time himself.

Until now. Now he knew because he had finally gotten Harry out of it all. He could concentrate on the orders as they trickled in and on his own investigation into what the ultimate plan was.

He had to admit that he was surprised when Harry hadn´t spilled his guts to Dumbledore after the fight in the hallway. He wondered how much Dumbledore knew, and Weasley and Granger as well. Harry was quite different than how he had thought back in those first years of school. He had assumed that after six years, Harry would have a strong enough trust in Dumbledore and hate of himself that the goody-goody hero wouldn´t have hesitated to get him in as much trouble as possible.

But so far he had kept most of what had happened between them to himself. Harry had listened to the persuasive speech he had given about not going to Dumbledore the first time and that seemed to stick. Or perhaps the other interactions they had had with each other were all muddled with the other incidents and Harry was confused and embarrassed.

Either way, it didn´t matter. It suited Draco for now. Harry was keeping his mouth shut. Good.

There was also his little Potions project with Professor Snape to think of. Positive results could be extremely useful in a multitude of ways. He wanted to make sure he had time for this investigation, considering how important it was. Besides, deep down he knew he should listen to what Snape told him. The Potions Master had experience.

Not that he was considering turning into a spy. Definitely not.

Traitor!

Draco knew the term well and knew the price he would pay for such an act. It was the last thing on his mind.

Draco leaned against the door and whispered a locking charm. With a sigh he heaved himself off the door and approached his bed.

There, lying atop his neatly made bed, was a small envelope. He stared at it for a moment before picking it up and turning it over. It was addressed to him and the seal was clearly his father´s.

With a grim smile he tore open the seal with his thumb and unfolded the crisp parchment.

Draco ~

The moment you have been waiting for has arrived. I will speak with you via the fireplace in your own room tomorrow at six o´clock sharp. As dictated by our Master, you are to be informed of your role in the plans.

Your Father

Draco blinked and reread the letter.

The moment you have been waiting for has arrived...

And reread it.

...you are to be informed of your role in the plans...

Finally, he was going to know what his father and Lord Voldemort had been planning since his birth. Finally, he would have an actual goal, something he could do and prove to his father that he was loyal and competent.

Finally, he was going to know what they had in store for the famous Harry Potter. And he would stand by and say nothing, because that was what he was destined to do.