The Girl in the Tower

The Girl in the Tower

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Chapter Thirteen: Quoth the Raven

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"What's he doing?" Hermione asked as she stood next to Sara, surveying the just-decorated Great hall.

Sara gazed at the corner across from theirs, the Slytherin corner, concealed by a large velvet curtain. "I don't know. He wouldn't let anyone see his model. Severus was helping him earlier but he wouldn't tell me, either."

"I can only imagine." Hermione shook her head. "Letting Draco Malfoy design a corner was a bad idea."

"I'm sure it will be interesting. Besides, when the other Slytherins hate it, it has nothing to do with us. Come on, we still have to pack for the train before we get ready."

"I'll meet you in the tower," Hermione said as they took the stairs to the third floor. "Ron and Harry should be done with practice soon. I'll bring them with me if you want."

"Come along when you're ready." Sara smiled when they came to the landing. "They' can find us on their own."

"Sara, is everything ok? You seem a little distant lately. Is all good with Harry?"

"I'm fine, Hermione, thanks. Harry's wonderful as always."

"But your hair..."

"Christmas is a difficult time for me." She tried again to smile. "This year I have a new family."

Hermione hugged her. "If you ever need to talk..."

"Thank you, I'll remember that. Now go get packed!"

"See you later." Hermione smiled and took the corridor for Gryffindor.

Sara waited until Hermione was out of sight and then went back down the stairs to the Great hall. She walked the expanse, now clear of tables, to the corner draped with heavy curtains. She could see movement and hear murmurs from within.

"Malfoy! Come out of there."

He poked his head out, annoyed until he saw who it was. "Oh! I didn't know it was you." He stepped fully out, careful to rearrange the drapery so she couldn't see inside. "Wow! Everything's done! It looks nice but we should have used more black."

"It's a Christmas party, not a funeral. Anyway, what are you doing behind there? What's the big secret? Uhhh.... Did I just hear rattlesnakes?"

Draco showed her a wicked grin. "Maybe."

"What are my chances?"

"No one's getting past those curtains. Bad enough I had to ask Snape for help with one of the spells. He liked it, though."

"I have to admit, I'm curious but I guess I'll wait for the finished product."

"Was that all you came for? To use your feminine influence to get a sneak preview?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you. I can see that you're busy, so come by my tower when you're done? Will it be much longer do you think?"

"Just finishing up. I'll be there soon."

"Good luck with your corner, then."

"Thanks." He watched her walk away and then slipped back behind the drapes.

* * *

Sara sighed before the doors to the roof, watching the too familiar - and almost welcome - sight of the raven growing near. It arrived at last, drawing up to hover as it dropped the letter into her hands. She turned her gaze back to it, wings a flurry of black satin and cold eyes that fixed on hers. A sense invaded her of another presence, of human intelligence and emotion. She threw out her hand and spoke a spell to turn an Animagus back to into a wizard but only the raven remained. As she lowered her arm, the bird came to rest on her shoulder and Sara sat on the edge of the bed, breaking the black seal she now knew well.

She stared stone-faced at the envelope, correctly addressed for the first time.

Sara Lemke

The North-East Tower

Hogwarts School

So he knew.

But how? Lucius even knew where she lived!

It couldn't be Draco, Sara was certain of that. She'd point her finger at Severus before she'd believe Draco would tell his father about her. Horrible as Malfoy was, he had integrity, unlike his father, and was sincere.

The paper was thick and rich as always, the handwriting flawless and flowing. Sara trembled as she read it. Lucius knowing she was the Elemental was disquieting. Frightening, actually. Did he know about Harry? So far, the raven only came when she was alone, as if it knew and it probably did. Sara had the feeling once again there was more to the raven than just feathers.

My Dearest Sara,

I hope my use of your real name causes you no distress. I still mean you no harm. What you are only adds mystery to intrigue. However, I must inquire, why mislead me about your identity and your relationship with my son? Why lie about your school house? Since your robes bear the crest of Gryffindor, I have to wonder about the identity of the invisible third party who, I assume, must have led Draco to you.

It is this person, the coward under the cloak, who dares assault me when I am defenseless, that deserves my wrath. Not Draco, and certainly not you, Sara. I feel no anger or resentment toward you, only fascination. I am captivated by you as I have mentioned repeatedly. There is something that goes beyond your considerable physical beauty. A sensuality, a subliminal quality that lures me.

Your refusals confound me. You fight what you know you want, to give in to your desires but your unnecessary fear of me keeps you at a distance. This fear I do not understand. I wouldn't hurt you, Sara. I swear on my name. If you would only reconsider, I could put you at ease. Agree to see me. Only then can we truly speak.

Yours,
L

Sara lowered the parchment to her lap and let her head fall into her hand. Tears of frustration, of helplessness, threatened and she wondered how long she could hold them off. Lucius knew it was Harry, he just couldn't prove it yet. He would know for certain if Harry stepped into the room at the wrong time. What was she to do?

Sara read his words again. You fight what you know you want, to give in to your desires... How true that statement was. She detested him but the attraction, the need to give in, was almost more than she could control sometimes. The fact that it was beyond her control, an affliction of the Elemental to be drawn to Darkness, was not an excuse but it was so difficult! Especially when he wrote to her late into the night as Harry slept and she stood on the roof to feel the wind against her skin. With the raven perched on the rail, she would read his words by moonlight. "Say the word and I'll come to you in a moment's time...."

Flooded by guilt and shame, Sara stood and the raven flew unseen to a high perch in the shadows, looking down at her as she paced the floor, open letter in hand. She stopped, thunder rumbling in the distance. Her breath hitched and the tears came all at once and in silence as a freak blizzard raged to life outside.

"Sara!" Draco appeared through the open doorway and rushed into the room. "What is it? Why are you crying like that?"

She turned away and he hurried to her side, feeling unsure and uncomfortable, wanting to hug her and knowing he shouldn't. He put a hand on her shoulder and saw what she was holding. He took the familiar Malfoy Family Stationary and read his father's words, growing more distraught with each passing moment. Finally, he set the letter aside as she did her best to hide her crying eyes from him, ashamed.

Draco's voice was little more than a nervous whisper. "He knows everything. He knows it was Harry."

"I know." She struggled to control her choked voice. "It's not that."

"Yes, I read the rest as well." Draco grew angry. "The nerve of him, presuming to know how you feel! It's absurd to think you'd ever desire the likes of him!"

"He's right," she admitted in a whisper, eyes lowering to hide behind the veil of her hair. "I do desire him."

"What? Sara! What about Potter? I thought you loved him and he was your soul mate and all that?"

She faced him with tears glistening and the pain he saw in her eyes twisted something deep in his chest. Again, he fought the urge to comfort her.

"I don't understand it! I do love Harry! And I hate Lucius, he's horrible!" She looked at her shoes again. "There's a part of me that awaits his letters. I don't know why I feel this way but I'm unable to deny it. I curse the Elemental in me but there's more to it than that. I know better and I still do nothing about it. Draco, what do I do?" Her hands covered her face and she cried into them, letting the misery she'd kept hidden for weeks, months, rise to encompass her. "Your murderous father has found his way into my thoughts, my dreams. I can't stop thinking about him and I feel so guilty when I look at Harry. I know you don't like him but he's so good to me, Malfoy. He loves me so much."

"I know he does." Draco sighed. "Like him or not, I do know that. And damn my father! All he knows is to destroy what's good and corrupt what's decent." He took her by the shoulders. "You must stop reading his letters. Send them back unopened or burn them where the raven can see."

"It's hard to be strong. All I feel is torn, shattered. Disloyal and ashamed." Her breath caught as she swallowed a sob.

The knot in his chest twisted painfully and he pulled her to him, wrapped his arms around her and she clung to him, crying on his shoulder. He stroked her hair as he whispered. "You'll get through this. I'll help you."

"Promise you won't tell Harry." She sniffled, shivering.

"I promise. As long as you give me your word you'll accept nothing more from my father."

"I won't."

"You know how he was able to describe your robe, don't you?"

"He must be watching me, or someone else here is." Her tears slowed and she calmed as he held her. Draco, the son of the man who tormented her. She pulled him closer, desperate to lose herself in the warmth of a safe haven.

He bent close to her ear and lowered his voice, "It's the raven. He uses a gazing stone to see through its eyes and he can hear you as well. Keep the doors closed. Draw the curtains. If he sees Harry he'll use him to threaten you."

"I feel so stupid, so helpless."

"It will be ok. I'll help you. You know I will."

She pulled away and tried to smile. The blizzard diminished to a few drifting flakes. Sara squeezed his hand and dropped it.

Draco held her eyes and raised a hand to wipe the tears from her face. With hesitation, he kissed her cheek. "I got you into this, Sara. I'm sorry."

"This isn't your fault." She went to the bed, folded the letter and carried it to the wall next to the nightstand. She knelt and pulled a stone from the base of the wall.

Draco watched as she moved a bottle of wine aside, added the letter to a shoebox containing dozens of identical envelopes as well as small parcels still wrapped in brown paper, unopened. She replaced the box, the wine, and then the stone.

"Drink?" she offered as she crossed to the sofa, lifting the stopper from a crystal decanter on a small table.

"Sure." He came to stand beside her, taking the glass when she handed it to him. He sipped; she emptied hers with a single swallow and refilled it. "Hey," he said, concerned. "Take it easy. Sara, you'll be fine, I promise."

She looked to him, defeated. "Will I?"

"You truly love Potter?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me, do you love my father?"

She seemed to consider this as she watched the liquor in her glass, swirling it and when she spoke her voice resonated vehemence. "Never."

Malfoy's voice softened, quieted. "Do you love me?"

Her eyes rose to his, waiting and serious. "I don't know how I feel about you. I once despised you but there's a side of you that's different, respectable. A side that has earned my friendship. I care about you, Draco, but I will never love you. Not the way you want me to."

"I accept that."

She lowered her eyes to her drink again. "You wouldn't want me anyway, Malfoy. My heart is flawed."

"Actually." He lifted her chin, his expression soft, caring. "That idiot Potter has no idea how lucky he really is."

"I betray him every time I close my eyes."

"And just look at the way you suffer for it."

"You don't understand," she whispered. "I want him to write to me. I shouldn't, but I do."

"Curiosity, Sara. You're human, after all." His hand went to her shoulder again. "Let me tell you something about my father. He lies. He will hurt you. He's cruel, Sara, and he loves nothing."

"I know," she whispered as her eyes fell closed, holding back the tears that threatened. "And I don't care."

"Yes you do." He hugged her again, awkward and light. "I know you do."

She laid her head on his shoulder and moved closer, wrapping her arms around his back. "I'm so confused. And I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what I might have to do."

* * *

"Come on, we're missing it!" Hermione called from the sofa in Sara's bedroom. "Sara you look perfect."

A voice drifted out from the dressing room down the hall. "I hate these shoes!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They're yours!"

"They look stupid!"

"Then change them!"

"I am."

Hermione heard Sara's heels clicking on the marble, which meant they could finally go. She stood and smoothed her white silk dress. Hermione hurried to the mirror to give her pretty up-do one last check, making sure the rubies and emeralds Sara lent her were fixed in place. A moment later Sara joined her, admiring her own hair, swept up and entwined with little braids and strings of diamonds and Ron's birthday gift, the amethyst comb, was tucked into one side.

Hermione smiled at their reflection. "Now let's go. Harry and Ron will be waiting."

Sara handed Hermione her white cape and pulled her own, crushed velvet to match her black satin dress, around her shoulders, fastening the diamond clasp.

Sara made sure the door was locked before joining Hermione on the landing. Sara tripped over the threshold and fell into Hermione, who righted her. Together, they descended the stairs.

Hermione was hesitant. "Um, Sara... I hate to ask this but are you drunk?"

Sara pulled a flask of Finnigan's Swill from an unseen pocket in her cape and then stowed it again. "I only had a little, you know, for nerves."

"I don't mind waiting if you want to run back to your room and put it away."

"Thanks but I might need it. Uncle Albus wants me to play the piano. I'll bring it along, just in case."

"You're wonderful! You don't need rum to play the piano!"

"I do when it's for the whole school! Merlins, Hermione, what am I to do? He insisted! He left me no other option but to agree."

Hermione smiled. "You'll be great. Don't worry about it. So." She took Sara's arm, afraid she might fall down the stairs. "How's Seamus and Harry's business coming along?"

"Better than I expected!" Sara grinned, glad to have something easy to talk about. "Lots of wizard pubs are ordering. Because it's so good, they can charge more and they're making a ton of money! The bottles are cheap and the labels we made here, so it's pretty much all profit. Harry hates bottling rum but he won't let me help. It's funny, he wears one of my scarves over his face because of the fumes."

"That's great!" Hermione grinned. "Well, except for the fumes. It must be better than putting in 14 hour days seven days a week like he thought he had to do."

"Agreed." Sara sighed. "I'll never forget when we saw him. He was more muscular but way too thin. And the dark circles under his eyes... He looked exhausted and ill."

"He wasn't taking care of himself. Those people he lived with, they were probably starving him again. They've done it before."

"He wrote something once that made me think so. Don't worry, though. The Dursleys will get theirs in the end."

"What are you planning?"

Sara gave her a sly smile. "Not what you think. It may be as simple as inviting them over to our grand palace and delighting in making them feel inferior."

"If you and Harry get married, will you invite them to the wedding?"

"Most definitely. I would force them to come but really, it's up to Harry. We shouldn't worry about that right now, anyway. Why didn't we take a broom?" Sara stopped, out of breath and nowhere near the bottom.

Hermione turned back toward the room and held out her hands. "Accio Broomsticks!"

* * *

"Harry!" Sara grinned. "I swear you belong on the cover of Witch Weekly."

Hermione agreed, her arm around Ron. "Harry, green really is your color."

"Thanks." He blushed a little. "And white seems to be yours. Nice dress."

Hermione regarded the simple, elegant gown she wore. "What, this old thing?"

Harry laughed and turned to Sara. "You look... fantastic. Really, you look beautiful." He glanced at Hermione. "You both do."

Ron, never able to stay quiet for long, just had to ask. "Was there a sale on that dress or something?"

"A sale!? A SALE?? Ronald, you have a lot to learn about what not to say! They aren't the same dress! Just the same style!"

"They aren't?" Ron looked confused.

Harry laughed at his friend. "Hermione, you need to straighten this boy out."

Ron's voice rose an octave, as it always did when he was embarrassed. "Well the whole thing will be over by the time we get there. Are we just going to stand around in the halls all night while a perfectly good party goes on without us?"

Harry took Sara's hand and walked alongside Hermione and Ron. Sara was unusually quiet. "Are you nervous, Sara?" he whispered.

"Like I've never been. What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking you should please your poor old uncle, who asks you to play every Friday. You'll be fine!" They were on the landing above the Great hall and Harry stopped.

Ron looked back when they didn't follow.

"Go ahead," Harry told him. "We'll catch up."

Harry turned his full attention back to Sara.

"What if I make a fool of myself? Harry, all those people!"

"If you start to panic, just close your eyes and pretend you're alone. Or pretend you're singing only for me." His smile was warm, reassuring.

Sara pulled the flask from her cape. "I need to loosen up."

"I don't know that it's such a good idea. We don't need you falling off the piano bench."

* * *

Dumbledore stood where the Head table used to be, two steps above what now served as a dance floor, where hundreds of students mingled under hundreds of candles.

Professor McGonagall called out in her high, cutting voice. "Quiet! Quiet, please! The headmaster would like to say a few words, so if you'll all quiet down..."

Silence prevailed and Dumbledore smiled. "Welcome to our now annual Yule Ball. Before the festivities get underway, I wanted to wish each one of you a Happy Christmas."

He was interrupted by a loud chorus of Happy Christmas, Professor! With a warm expression, Dumbledore smiled his thanks before continuing. "You have Miss Lemke to thank for this party as it was her idea. She, with the help of her committee, put together everything from the music to the punchbowls. Also, she will be performing for us later, which is a rare pleasure indeed."

Sara turned white with trepidation and Harry squeezed her hand. Her uncle smiled down at her and motioned for her to join him. Sara stood rooted to the spot, thinking she might faint or be sick.

"Come here, Sara. I'm sure you have a person or two to thank."

Mortified, Sara made her way up the two steps to stand at his side, putting on her most convincing smile to hide her fear of addressing everyone at once. The liquor helped but she would be needing a little more if she was going to sing. The very thought terrified her beyond words and she struggled to maintain her composure.

Feeling dizzy, Sara looked over the hundreds of faces whose attention she held and her eyes fell on Seamus. Sara adored Seamus and so she looked directly at him, blocking out all others.

"Tomorrow we all go home to our families, or remain here at school, so I thought we should have this one night to be together, even if it's only to admire each other's clothes."

This brought a hearty laugh from the floor.

"A lot of work went into tonight, as well as a lot of thought by a group of people dedicated to making this evening special for all of us. Any complaints see Hermione Granger or Seamus Finnigan." Sara grinned and scanned the smiling faces, wishing her heart would stop hammering and hoping her voice was steady. "But you can blame that mischievous mistletoe on me."

More laughter rang out as the little green plants zipped around the crowd, stopping to hover over unsuspecting boys and girls.

"Unfortunately, I can't name everyone who had a hand in but I think they've done a wonderful job."

There was a burst of applause that tapered off into silence, waiting for her to go on. Her nervousness slipped away as their reception grew warmer and Sara began to relax.

"In each corner of the room you'll find what one of us so rightly called a 'living Christmas card' from each house to the rest of the school. Behind me you see "Happy Holidays from Hufflepuff House," Designed and created by Jonathan Sheldon and Mary O'Reilly. Also, "Enjoy the Season from Ravenclaw," by Trent and Mindy Blakely. On the far end we have "Happy Christmas from Gryffindor House," by Dean Thomas and Parvati Patil." Sara saw Draco standing beside his curtain, a smug smirk on his face and she smiled. "The other corner, however, holds a mystery. Well Malfoy? Are you going to show us or not?"

With a wave of his wand, the draperies rolled up and disappeared, revealing something no one had expected. Whimsical snow fell onto a scene straight out of a twisted comic book. The Grim Reaper, sickle in hand, (the pole of which was wrapped with a swirl of garland and topped with bells and tinsel,) was wearing a long necklace of bright green holly. His free hand conducted a chorus of rattlesnakes in rows of seven, all in Santa hats and wearing Slytherin House neckties, rattling out the tune as they bobbed up and down and side to side. The song was slow and drawn out and the hissing was hilarious. "Jingle bellssssssss, jingle bellssssssss." All this under a green and silver banner that declared "Ssseasons Greetings from Ssslytherin".

Sara laughed in delight. "It's wonderful!" She heard her Uncle Albus begin to chuckle beside her and she clapped her hands, impressed by Draco's imaginative take on his house mascot. "No wonder it took all day!"

The hall erupted with polite approval and Sara swore she could see Draco blushing - and gloating - from where she stood. Slytherins clapped half-heartedly or not at all and many of them sneered in his direction.

As all attention was on Draco, Sara took the opportunity to escape, stumbling down the steps to where Harry stood with a group of friends. The torches along the walls went out, leaving the hall in a warm amber glow. David, a Muggle-born Ravenclaw, was running the stereo and soft music made for slow dancing filled the room.

Harry watched as little third years wandered onto the floor, then more and more couples joined them. Seamus and Susan, as well as Ron and Hermione walked into their midst and Sara was staring at him. "Oh, alright." He smiled. "But let's get farther in. I'm a terrible dancer."

* * *

An hour into the party, Sara and Harry had retreated to a large round table in the back of the room, occupied by Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Susan, Neville, Mary from Ravenclaw (who everyone knew fancied Neville,) Liam and Molly, (who were a couple of Harry's teammates,) and a very quiet Ginny Weasley. She kept a trace of a smile on her otherwise unexpressive face. Ginny had come without a date, even though she'd been asked by half the boys in school, and Sara thought she looked depressed. In fact, she only seemed to brighten when Harry spoke to her directly.

As the song ended and the dancing stopped, Sara's face turned ashen. "It's time," she said and turned nervous eyes to Harry.

"Hey!" Ron yelled. "What happened to the music?"

"Shut up, you git!" Seamus answered. "They're doing something with the piano!"

Harry smiled and touched her hand. "You'll do fine. You're brilliant. Remember what I said but you'd better go." He kissed her and put some feeling behind it, oblivious to the fact that all their friends were watching.

"I hope I can do this." She rested her head against his.

Harry grinned. "If you don't I'll never speak to you again. Now get going. And put that flask in your pocket before you're playing piano in detention!"

Sara stood, gave him a nervous smile, and turned to go.

Ginny was gone.

Sara thought she must have left only moments before, right about the time Harry kissed her. She was beginning to get a clearer picture of what Ginny's problem was as she made her way across the room.

"Where's Sara going?" Susan wondered.

"Come on, everyone." Harry jumped to his feet. "Sara's going to sing and we should be a little closer to the piano."

* * *

Sara's piano was situated on the higher section of the hall where she'd stood earlier with her Uncle Albus and she approached it on legs of rubber. Her heart pounded in her chest and the rum surged through her, making her dizzy. She was determined to do this, had decided weeks ago, and wouldn't allow herself to back out now. Not in front of the other students, the teachers, or her beloved old uncle. She especially refused to play the coward in front of Harry, whose courage knew no bounds.

* * *

A raven, unseen in the darkness, flew high above and came to rest on a ledge near the ceiling. Its eyes trained on Sara.

* * *

As she slid onto the seat without grace, Sara decided to become like Harry, at least for this moment in time. Fearless. In control. She reached into a pocket and withdrew the Fortificus Charm, reaching under her hair to fasten it. She closed her eyes as her fingers held it, drew from it what she needed. Harry's unfaltering fearlessness, Draco's determination and even a welcomed bit of his generally obnoxious self-confidence.

Her fingers settled over the keys.

She'd chosen the song for its soft beauty and deep emotion, as well as its simplicity, requiring only a piano and a woman's voice. But the truth of it was; she'd selected this one in particular because Harry loved it. They'd danced to it on the roof at her birthday party and he'd played it over and over the night of their argument because it reminded him of her.

There was a microphone directly before her, charmed to work without cords or amplifiers, and the sight of it unnerved her all over again. Sara could feel the eyes on her and the deep, echoing silence threatened her resolve. Unable to endure just sitting there, the object of everyone's attention, she played the first few cords - and botched it completely. Her fingers stumbled over each other even though she'd been playing this song for years in her home in Manhattan and it was always flawless.

"Sorry." She laughed unnaturally into the microphone. "I'm a little nervous." With a deep breath, Sara pushed her shimmering black cape back over her delicate shoulders and began again, botched a note, but kept on playing.

Harry watched from the floor, worried for her, his fingers crossed in the pockets of his trousers. When her voice faltered, he held his breath but she kept singing, too quiet, so unsure of herself, like the night she'd played for them in the tower. Her eyes slid closed and Harry relaxed. Go away, Sara, he thought. Go somewhere else.

Her voice grew steadily stronger until it soared, flooded by emotion and the beauty of it left him in awe of her. The way she overpowered everything amazed him, as if his heart was on a string and she tugged it with a force of musical passion. He was moved and the vision of her in the soft light, graceful, beautiful, almost surreal, brought a smile to his face.

The sweet and solemn notes she played echoed through the hall and her voice rose higher and higher and then calmed, only to climb to a new crescendo. Harry was mesmerized by what he heard, enveloped by a sort of rapture found only in music. It was the way he felt when the ghost of her mother's voice surrounded him in the tower. Lifted, transported to a higher, integral state of mind. Only this was Sara, who had always held his fascination, and this was here and now, not some old worn out recording. And it wasn't only he who was so affected by her; it was every person in the room. The faces around him were rapt with enchantment, spellbound by the emotion that spilled from Sara, entwined with the soft, drifting melody.

No one moved. No one seemed to breathe. All eyes were on her. Riveted, captivated. When her exquisite voice died away, when the soft chords of the piano faded...

There was silence.

Sara opened her eyes and the fear she'd forgotten rushed in. Her hand trembled as it reached for the Fortificus Charm.

The room exploded with applause. Sara looked around; nervous, unbelieving it was for her, that the thunder of hands was in appreciation of her botched playing and shaky voice. She stood, trying to smile and the roar became an ovation. She was shocked - but pleased beyond words - when she saw every Slytherin smiling and clapping along with the other houses. It was this that thrilled her the most. They hated her because she was Harry's girlfriend and they didn't look happy to have enjoyed her performance, but there they were.

Sara's eyes fell on Harry, standing alongside the others in the forefront and smiling whole-heartedly up at her.

Sara leaned into the microphone as she clutched the Fortificus Charm with trembling hands. "Um... thank you."

Seamus leaned close to Harry's ear. "She looks a little pale, mate."

Sara turned on her heel, left the hall and nearly ran down the corridor.

Harry stared after her, thinking something was wrong and wondering what to do. He followed, trying hard to be nonchalant about it.

Harry rounded the corner just in time to catch a glimpse of her, running into the girl's bathroom. Harry caught up but stopped short at the door. He sighed and rested against the jamb, wishing he could go in and convince her that she'd been good. Really good.

He would let her be sick in private.

* * *

Sara stopped short when she came upon Harry, waiting for her on the steps to the second floor. She sighed and took a seat beside him. "I hope the old creep is happy, now that I've made a fool of myself."

"You were great. Your voice, Sara, I swear it casts a spell."

She took his hand. "Thank you. It's nice of you to say so."

"I meant it. Didn't you hear the response you got? If you were lousy, I'd just make some bad jokes and try to cheer you up."

Sara smiled and laughed a little. She took his hand, relieved and daring to believe him.

Harry stood and helped her up. "Perhaps you should go lay down for a bit."

"And miss the party I spent so much time planning?" Sara brought out the flask of Finnigan's Swill, took a heavy sip, and back it went into the folds of her cape. She wandered in the direction of the Great hall and Harry followed. "My nerves were shot. You know. Stage fright and all. I'm fine now. Come on, let's go back."

The Head table area, which was previously cleared for her performance, was positively swarming with students. The Head table itself was pushed up along one wall and now served as the food table. Sara laid a napkin on her hand a chose a few delicacies, which she carried to a table occupied only by Hermione and Ron, who were arguing and paid her arrival no mind. Harry soon followed with his own collection of hors d'oeuvres.

"Hurry up, Harry," Sara whispered. "Eat faster. They're having a rather nasty row. I think we should give them some privacy."

Harry nodded; his mouth full of savories. "I'm thirsty."

The Hufflepuff table spanned the wall, holding huge punchbowls of spiced pumpkin juice, punch, cider, eggnog and Butterbeer. When they stopped at the eggnog, Harry ladled her a glass while she fished the flask out of her cape. She dumped a good amount of Finnigan's Swill into the thick yellowish liquid and added a dash of cinnamon. They lingered there while she drank it, watching people dance. The music was the typical club fare, like they played at Slytherin Spirits. Hard, thumping base line, flowing rhythm and spunky urban lyrics. Harry liked it all right, it wasn't his favorite but it was excellent for dancing and the crowd was super-charged with energy.

Finally, a slow song came on. Sara set down her glass and Harry led her into the throng of swaying couples.

When the dance was over, Harry spotted Ron's flaming red head and moved in that general direction, assuming the row was short-lived, like most of Ron and Hermione's arguments. Another slow song came on but Sara could tell Harry was sick of dancing and wanted to hang out with their friends. They'd crossed about half the expanse when they were stopped short by Malfoy, who appeared in their path.

The raven watched as Malfoy spoke and Harry looked furious. Eventually, Potter stalked off and Sara took Draco's arm. Malfoy escorted Sara to a dark and remote part of the floor, far removed from Gryffindor eyes, and went gracefully into the rhythm, holding Sara like a pro.

"Where did you learn to dance?" she asked, pleasantly surprised. "I would have never guessed."

"My mother. She insisted I take lessons and I have since I was little. She always drilled me about how grace was an important part of any important man." He smiled in amusement. "She says it's hard to respect a klutz."

"She was right, Malfoy, and you're all the better for it." Sara smiled back. "Graceful you are."

"You're no klutz yourself."

"I also took lessons. Ballroom, ballet, tango, you name it. For all the same reasons, basically."

"Then we're two of a kind, aren't we?"

"We're not, of that I'm quite certain."

"So, you're going to hate me forever, then?"

Sara giggled. "Well Malfoy, I'm going to try but, I have to admit, you're hard to hate at times." She thought he looked fantastic but refused to tell him. Draco was dressed all in black, rich, expensive fabrics and catches of gold here and there. He'd been neglecting the barber for quite some time and his fine blond hair fell just to his shoulders. It had been jaw-length at start of term. Sara thought it looked great on him, lent to his elegance. Then again, if people were gemstones, Malfoy was a diamond, flecked with flaws and with a dangerously sharp edge.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I guess. Thanks for listening. You just happened to walk in while I was reaching my breaking point."

"You asked me to come. I assumed that was why."

"Actually, I wanted to ask what your plans were for Christmas."

He smiled, thinking he would be totally and utterly forgotten on that day. He'd almost gotten used to the fact that he'd be spending it alone. No awesome and expensive gadgets, no fine new clothes for him this year. Just a cold morning in the Slytherin common room with his misery and loathsome self-pity. "I thought I'd hang around the dungeons. Torture the rats or something."

"Will this be your first Christmas away from home?"

"Yes," he said, his voice gone quiet. "So, are you and Potter going to help out in a local soup kitchen? Deliver turkeys to hungry wizards? Or do you plan to cut to the chase and save the world straight away?"

"Something a little less dramatic. We're taking the train in the morning and we're spending a few days in London. We'll be back Christmas Eve, so I wanted to know if you cared to spend the night in my tower."

Draco looked surprised and gave no answer.

"There are tons of guest rooms and everyone else is staying, too. I thought we could have dinner, drinks, and then do presents in the morning. What do you say? You in?"

"Absolutely." He grinned, and then his smile faltered. "Wait, who does everyone else consist of?"

"Harry of course. Ron and Ginny are going to Hermione's. Seamus can't make up his mind but, last I knew, he was staying. There's a little third year girl, an orphan from Hufflepuff who lives in a foster home named Brittany. And Neville of course, since his grandmother died last year. Hagrid's going to visit his girlfriend at Beauxbatons. Argus Filch, thank Merlin, is staying with family. Severus and Uncle Albus won't be sleeping over but I'm sure they'll be coming for dinner."

"You said Uncle Albus."

Sara looked horrified, realizing she had.

"And for a minute there, you lost your British accent."

She sighed, resigned. "Well, I might as well tell you. Voldemort knows I'm the Elemental now anyway. The charade is no longer necessary. I'm not Hermione's cousin. I'm from Manhattan but my parents grew up here and attended Hogwarts. And yes, Albus Dumbledore is my great, great uncle. I don't have a wand because my parents, too afraid of Voldemort, wouldn't risk taking me into a wizarding market. They taught me everything I know, which is a lot, and taught me how to do wandless magic from the time I was born. He killed them in October of last year."

"I'm sorry."

"You see, Malfoy, you're not the only miserable soul at Hogwarts."

He smiled softly and with feeling as he so rarely did and, at that moment, Sara found him beautiful. It warmed his features and brought new life to his cold ice-blue eyes. She returned his smile as she looked up at him and a sprig of mistletoe abruptly stopped and hovered above their heads. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her but the song was over and he was gone, swallowed by the crowd, leaving her suddenly standing there alone.

"Well if he won't do it, I will," Seamus said and kissed her cheek. "What are you doing dancing with that creep anyway?"

"I don't think he's that bad."

"He's been acting weird all year but trust me, he's that bad."

Sara laughed. "Come on, Finn. Let's find Harry and get another mixer."

* * *

Harry was on the other side of the room, dancing with Ginny Weasley.

"Eggnog?" Seamus asked as he left Sara's side.

"Yes," she said and turned to Harry, laying a hand on his arm.

Harry turned to her and Ginny bit her lip when she felt Harry's hands falling away.

Sara smiled with brilliant sincerity. "Hi Ginny! You look beautiful. I meant to tell you earlier, that color is absolutely stunning on you."

Ginny said nothing, just glared at Sara in silence before she turned on her heel and stalked off.

Sara got the feeling Ginny was trying not to cry.

"Harry! What the hell was all that about?! How much nicer could I be? Is she mental or something?"

"Behold, the girl I almost kissed the summer after fifth year." He sighed and settled into an uncomfortable smile.

"You almost kissed Ron's little sister?"

"I love Ginny. Just not in the way that warrants kissing. I thought otherwise for a time but then I realized I was mistaking a close friendship for something more. She's like a sister to me, just as the rest of Ron's family has become my own. It didn't seem right and I don't think she's quite forgiven me yet."

"She'll get over it eventually. I kissed my neighbor once in Manahttan, Zach his name was, but I don't count it because I was only ten. He had a massive crush on me for years afterward but then he fell in love with Sheila from down the block."

Harry laughed. "Well, if you're discounting stuff like that, I kissed Hermione once in our second year. It didn't last long and it was totally bizarre. We never got it in our heads to do it again."

"I can't even picture it, Harry, it's too weird." Sara laughed.

"I should go check on Ginny." Harry shrugged. "Make sure she's ok."

"I'll be here when you get back."

Seamus arrived with the mixers just as Harry slipped away. Sara took hers and excused herself. She dumped in a good lot of rum, drank it down when she reached the punchbowls on the other side of the hall and set down her glass.

She found Draco sitting alone at the end of the table and he looked up in surprise when she appeared before him, shimmering in silk and velvet.

"We're dressed the same," he observed, indicating their all-black clothes. "Great minds think alike."

"Come dance with me."

Draco just stared at her, thinking she must be joking.

Sara gave him a warm smile and offered her hand.

Smiling in return, he took it and let her help him out of his seat. She found a dark corner and laid her hand in his.

"Where's Potter?"

"He's talking to Ginny."

"And that doesn't bother you? She's only been in love with him since she was born."

"It doesn't bother me because I trust Harry. After all, he shows me the same respect."

"Yes, but he hates every minute of it."

Sara fished the flask out of her cape and offered it to Malfoy, who took several big swigs before handing it back without even a hint of a wince.

Sara laughed, sipping it. "He can dance and he's mastered lemon-face. There's more to you than meets the eye."

"I can't think of a more true statement."

Sara grinned. "Come on, Malfoy. It's getting a little stuffy in here. Let's take a walk. We can finish this." She touched her pocket.

The raven watched intently from its high perch as Draco led Sara out of the Great hall and down a corridor. It waited until they turned a corner and then it followed.

They found themselves out in the cold winter night and stopped at a bench. Sara charmed away the snow and ice while Draco put warming spells on their capes. Sara pulled hers around her bare shoulders as she sat beside Malfoy, who was taking a drink of rum.

Draco held up the flask and gave it a shake, producing a minute splashing from inside, indicating its emptiness.

Sara pointed her finger at it. "Replenish."

The flask grew heavy in his hand. Even he didn't know that one. "Impressive!"

"Thank you!" She took a sip of rum. "Now it's your turn. Impress me."

"I do believe that's impossible."

"Don't be silly. Come on, do a trick for me. Something cool."

Draco racked his brain. He knew lots of cool charms and spells but none befitting her audience. Surely blowing up rats and his latest accomplishment, conjuring an evil tree that entwined a victim in its branches and ate them, would impress her. Finally, he spoke. "I don't know any."

"Try."

Draco pointed his wand at the frozen ground and whispered under his breath. He watched, anxious and convinced of failure as a thorny seedling sprang from the snow and unfurled into a mature rosebush, thick with greenery. A single perfect bloom opened before their eyes, a pristine shade of lavender to Sara's delight.

Then it turned black and died.

Sara smiled and laid her hand over his. "Next time don't try so hard. You killed it!"

"I don't know why they always turn black. I've only just started practicing that one, anyway."

Sara knew why he'd suddenly started growing roses and sighed, wishing she could put his tortured heart at ease. She let her head fall against his shoulder.

"Maybe you should stop drinking that stuff. If Potter sees us..."

"Why is everything so complicated, Malfoy? How can a person be totally in love with someone, yet have feelings and desires for other people? It makes no sense to me." She took another sip and handed it back. "What does it mean?"

"It means that you're human." He tipped the flask, thrilled that she was leaning against him. "It's normal, Sara. It happens to everyone. It doesn't mean anything. You just have to make choices."

"All of which have consequences and they all come back to Harry. Whatever I do, it affects him. I hate being in control of what happens to Harry. Being in love is like being a parent in the way that you become responsible for the other person's state of mind. It's cumbersome at times." She held up a hand and studied her palm. Her vision was a little blurred but she easily made out the worrisome ring where the line split in two and then rejoined. A river around and island.

"I wouldn't know. I've never been in love before. I don't think it happens to Malfoys. Not often, anyway." He lifted the flask and took a long swallow.

"Maybe you should change your name, then."

"I wish I could but 'Kevin Malfoy' just doesn't sound right."

Sara laughed aloud and her hand fell on his arm. "Kevin Malfoy! That's too damn funny!"

He offered her the flask.

She pushed it away with a gentle hand. "I can't have anymore. You'd have to carry me back to my room! I've overdone it again, as usual."

"Sara?" he asked, sitting her up to look at him, as much as he hated parting her from his shoulder. "Can I ask you something?"

His face grew serious and her laughter subsided. "What do you want to know?"

"Pretend for a moment that Harry Potter was someone you had never met. Would you go out with me? I mean, would you be interested at least?"

"It's hard to imagine not knowing Harry but I'll give it a try." She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again. She smiled as she caught his winter eyes. "Absolutely."

She could tell this was not the answer he'd expected and, when he said nothing, she continued. "I like you, Malfoy. There's something about you I find mysteriously attractive. You're fine, exceptional and sophisticated. A diamond among ordinary glass. You're consistent but unpredictable. You're confidence and grace personified. You're everything your father is, except hateful." She smiled ever so slightly. "I think you're beautiful."

He took a deep breath and whispered as a hand tangled in her hair. "Then give me this one memory."

Before she could think of what she was doing, Sara kissed him. He pulled her close, putting everything he had into the moment, knowing he would never be this close to her again, and she responded.

The raven stretched its ebony wings and flew off into the darkness, unseen, unheard.

* * *

"How do you know it isn't right? You've never even given me a chance! I've been waiting forever to change your mind but, in all that time, you've never liked me, you don't now and I have a feeling you never will. Why would you, anyway? I can't even compare to her! She's so damn perfect. She makes me feel unattractive, clumsy, and awkward. She's the girl who always wins. The primadonna. And I'm just the ugly duckling in the wake of a swan."

"You're not ugly, Ginny!" Harry insisted. "I think you're beautiful."

"What's beauty when it's second rate?"

"And who's second rate? There are no classifications of beauty, just different perspectives. Ginny, I love you. You're like family to me! I don't see you as better or worse, just someone I care a great deal about. It's just... different."

"Yes, forever the little sister! I already have six brothers, Harry. And you don't love me. You're just saying that to save my feelings."

"Did I not risk my life to save you from the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Was there someone you wouldn't have saved?"

"Look, I do love you." He swept a wisp of her gorgeous red hair from her face as her hurt and tormented eyes studied him.

Harry thought of all the years he'd known her and how important she was to him. He'd wanted to kiss her that night at the Burrow, the summer before 6th year, and knew how crushed she'd been when he'd backed away. It really had felt strange but, the truth of it was, he was terrified. He felt drawn to her now, alone in the darkness, confronted with all the pain he'd ever caused her. Anguish and frustration darkened her face. Her eyes swam with tears. That he made her feel this way agonized him and Harry was desperate to reassure her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "I would never lie to you."

"So I'm to feel this way forever?" she whispered, surrendering to her suffering. "Rejected, my only memory a kiss denied?"

"Denied out of love and respect."

She stepped closer - close enough to hear him breathe - and met his eyes. Harry was startled by the emotion he saw in her, even in the dimness of the moonlit library. She really was beautiful, he thought. He'd always loved her long ginger hair and her fair complexion. Ginny looked so pretty in her champagne satin party dress with her cape askew on her shoulders. She looked so sad and vulnerable that he pulled her closer, meaning to hug her, but he kissed her instead. He kissed her the way he never would again, and a single thought echoed through his mind.

....Sara....