Saint-Seducing Gold

Saint-Seducing Gold

"Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;

Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;

Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:

What is it else? a madness most discreet,

A choking gall, and a preserving sweet."

Part One: Enemies to Peace

Chapter One: In a Chance Encounter

"What storm is this that blows so contrary?"

-----

It was only the first week of school of the new school year, and Draco Malfoy, the newly named Head Boy of Hogwarts, was skulking along the hallways with his cloak drawn up in an effort to conceal his face. This fervent action was not particularly normal for the ambitious Slytherin, and those who noticed shot him strange looks of askance. He cursed and pulled the hood a little lower over his infamous silver-blonde hair. If there had ever been a time in his life that he had wanted an Invisibility Cloak more, he couldn't remember it.

"Drakey!" a simpering voice called from behind him. Draco cursed again (quite a bit more colorfully) and quickened his step. "Drakey, wait up!" the voice called, desperate and breathless because its owner was running.

It wasn't that Draco had never run from anything before in his life, but the fact that he was fleeing a girl made him a bit ashamed. After all, he was the self-proclaimed leader of the most powerful House in Hogwarts and one of the school's smartest students to boot. Not the smartest because of that stupid Mudblood, Granger, and his cousin, Grahm Pritchard. But Granger only scored higher than he did because she actually took the time to study, whereas Draco simply knew things. And Grahm was an exception to the rule because he was a child prodigy. Only fourteen but already taking classes with the sixth years, Grahm was probably the smartest wizard in the school with the worst reputation among the teachers. He was a little monster in class, as bad alone as the Weasley twins ever were together, and every teacher in the school dreaded their classes with him because, although he was an unholy terror, he knew the answer to every question they used to try an! d jar him. But none of that mattered to Draco. He was far above Granger and her goody-goody Gryffindor housemates, and he was Grahm's older cousin, not to mention best friend, so any competition between them was purely for the benefit of others (namely their fathers). And all of that meant that there was no plausible reason on Earth for Draco to be trying to escape from someone who should have been beneath his notice.

The fact remained though that he had no other choice but to run. Pansy Parkinson was hell-bent on taking their planned marriage to heart. She truly believed that her father and Draco's father were going to force them to be married whilst Draco knew that the proposal was merely a diversionary promise on his father's part in order to make Mr. Parkinson more amenable to Lucius' authority. And no matter how much Draco complained to Lucius, his father refused to take his moans seriously and simply told him to "deal with her as you would with any female."

Draco grimaced, picking up his pace again. He was a teenage boy, and, as most teenage boys do, he had no problem "dealing with females" as his father so vaguely put it. He'd had his fair share of girlfriends throughout the length of his school career, more than most in fact because of his particularly good looks and the power he wielded as Slytherin's acknowledged leader. But that didn't mean that he wanted to rehash old relationships and give Pansy what she wanted. Frankly, he couldn't stand her anymore. The older she got, the phonier she got. She wasn't anywhere near to the hardness of a Slytherin anymore and he was sick of putting up with her sycophantic attitude. Why did he have to be the one to indulge her fantasies anyway?

"Draco!" Pansy shrieked, interrupting his wandering train of thought. Panicking, Draco darted through the nearest door and pulled it shut behind him looking around desperately for another escape route.

He was in the library. Madam Pince looked up at him from her desk and waggled an admonishing finger at him for making noise. He shrugged and flashed her a disarming smile that (despite the rumors that nothing could melt the old bird's heart) made her forget what he had done wrong and return his grin with a dazed sort of look to her eyes. Draco rolled his own eyes and casually strolled off in search of a certain Gryffindor...

It certainly wasn't Harry Potter and his gang of fawning friends that Draco wanted to run into now, and he took care to refrain from nearing the corner of the library that Granger usually inhabited. The Gryffindor that Draco was looking for was a far-cry from Potter and his toadies. She was, in fact, perfect in every way except for the niggling little part about her being a Gryffindor. He'd spotted her during the Sorting Ceremony earlier that week and instantly fell in lust (Malfoys never fell in love). She was beautiful enough to shame a goddess, tall and willowy with flawless golden skin and dark, expressive eyes. Her thick hair fell in waves of ebony over her shoulders and even her unflattering school robes couldn't conceal her lissome body beneath. Upon studying her during classes the past few days, he'd been delighted to find that she had brains to match her looks. She was clever, funny, and almost as sarcastic as his fellow Slytherins.

In other words, Draco had a major crush on Parvati Patil.

Draco knew that he couldn't do anything serious about it, but he couldn't help how he felt. Logic told him that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor could never hope to be together with the approval of their housemates (let alone his father's), but his emotions didn't seem to care much for his logic. Maybe, he mused to himself, wandering amidst the bookshelves, no one would care if he simply snogged her and didn't make a big deal about it. It'd worked a year ago with his Ravenclaw girlfriend, Mandy Brocklehurst. Of course, she'd never really been his girlfriend. Not unless a month of note-passing and elicit snogging sessions counted as a relationship. He didn't even remember what year she had been! But that was past, and no one had said anything to him about it so maybe it would be okay if he could manage to convince the Gryffindor girl to experience the pleasures that Draco Malfoy could offer her. He grinned. That shouldn't be too big a feat.

So Draco was peering at a group of chatting seventh-years and hoping to catch a glimpse of hair like the night when the door to the library crashed open. "DRACO!" Pansy shouted, probably loud enough to be heard down in the dungeons.

"Shit," Draco muttered, almost but not quite surprised by Pansy's insistence. He quickly spotted a lone girl sitting at the table nearest him and jumped into the chair next to her, grabbing the book from her hands and shielding his face with it. There was the sound of a scuffle near the door which Draco presumed to be Madam Pince trying to force Pansy back outside from the wild shouting and declarations of impending detention that drifted over to his ears. He chuckled to himself in triumph.

"A-hem." The girl cleared her throat and a hand appeared at the top of the book. "I believe this is mine." She tugged the novel from Draco's hands.

For a moment, Draco stared. And impulsively wondered if he'd ever seen such beautiful hair before. It was long and red and appeared so silky that he could barely restrain himself from reaching out to touch it. Draco had a weakness for girls with hair as pretty as his own. Swiftly he examined the rest of the girl. Slender, fair-skinned, light smattering of freckles across her nose, she had nothing on the perfection of Parvati but should things not work out with her... This girl's bright brown eyes were a suitable enough replacement.

And then Draco quite abruptly realized who belonged to the innocently flashing eyes.

"Weasley?" he hissed in surprise. How could he ever have found red hair to be beautiful? Merlin, but he'd let his hormones run away with him this time!

Ginny Weasley arched an eyebrow at him in recognition and angrily set her book down. "Yes, Malfoy?" she spat. "Care to explain what's going on?"

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Oh, go to hell," he replied rudely, overcoming his shock and losing interest. He rolled his eyes carelessly and scooted back in his chair to get up. It was at that instant that he saw Pansy stalking his way. He yelped in surprise and quickly sat down again.

"What're you-" Ginny started to say, but Draco swiftly interrupted her by pulling her into his lap and grabbing her book again.

"Shut up and play along," he commanded, opening the book and pretending it was something interesting. Ginny made a scandalized sound and struggled in his arms, trying to get away. He shot her a look of death that made her eyes widen and she momentarily forgot about escape.

"Draco! I've been looking for you every--who is that!?" Pansy leapt forward as though to seize Ginny by her red hair, but Draco calmly swatted her arm aside. Pansy touched the limb and gritted her teeth. "What are you doing with her?" she asked sharply, glaring at his companion.

Draco cocked an eyebrow and gave her a complacent look. "What does it look like, Pansy darling?"

The furious brunette spluttered in an attempt to respond but couldn't seem to make any coherent words come out. Ginny wriggled a bit on Draco's lap and he pinched her leg to make her stop. The Gryffindor stared at him in disgust, and then seemed to get a sudden idea because her eyes lit up and she abruptly smiled, relaxing against his chest. She shot Pansy a coquettish look and raised a hand to finger a piece of Draco hair.

"Why don't you just leave us alone, Parkinson?" she purred, stroking Draco's hair and giving both Slytherins devilish grins. Pansy stared in utter disbelief, her jaw working soundlessly, and Draco found that he wasn't much better off.

"Is that the way it is then, Draco?" Pansy said coldly after visibly collecting herself. He licked his lips and turned away from Ginny's smoldering gaze before he found himself doing something he might regret. Coming to his senses, he nodded shortly.

"Yes. Now, why don't you go leech the life out of someone else's party? Go on," he said, shooing her with a flippant gesture of his hand. Pansy sneered and stubbornly stuck her chin out.

"Just you wait until the others hear about this, Draco. Gryffindor trollops aren't tolerated by anyone in the dungeons, and you know it. After I get done, you'll never be able to show your face down there again!" The incensed Slytherin girl turned on her heel and stalked off in a sanctimonious rage.

Draco sighed in relief. He knew no one would believe anything that came out of Pansy's gossiping mouth. He turned toward Ginny and discovered the Gryffindor's wand leveled evenly at his eyes.

"Let me go," the redhead ordered stiffly, her formerly smoldering eyes now cold as ice. Draco reacted to her demand the only way he knew how.

"Nice show, Weasley," he laughed, shoving her off his lap. Startled at the sudden loss of stability, Ginny tumbled to the floor, her wand clattering out of her reach. She sat there, glaring up at him and trying to straighten her skirt. He threw her an infamous Malfoy smirk and picked up her wand, waving it in her face and pulling it away before she could grab it from him.

"Now, now, what do we say?" he taunted, twirling the wand between his fingers with some skill.

"Give it back," she grated through clenched teeth, holding her palm out. Draco shook his head at her in mock sadness and pocketed the wand.

"Nope, sorry," he replied impudently. "Not until you learn some manners." He winked, and patted his pocket.

"Manners!" Ginny's eyes flashed with malice and she scrambled to her feet. "I'll show you manners, Malfoy." And before Draco could register what had happened, she'd tackled him to the ground.

They wrestled their way across the floor, Ginny trying desperately to reach her wand, and Draco trying hard not to show just how difficult it was for him to fend her off. He'd never been much of a fighter after all, and she fought as dirty as any brawling schoolboy, kicking and punching and threatening to snatch off a fistful off his hair. Finally (and luckily for Draco), they fetched up against a bookshelf where he managed to pin her arms behind her back.

"Merlin, Weasley, what's wrong with you?" he panted, jerking aside as she tried to kick his shins.

"Give me my wand back, Malfoy," she replied, eerily calm for a girl in her position. Draco, sick of how strange she was, narrowed his eyes at her and snarled.

"Why in the blazes should I?"

"Because if you don't, you'll be going straight to the Headmaster, Head Boy or not." It was Madam Pince, standing over them with her hands on her hips. Draco scoffed at her threat, though not quite loudly enough to be heard by anyone. Still... He released Ginny and coolly got to his feet, smoothing his hair back.

"Fine. No problem," he said, mindful to keep his face expressionless. It wouldn't do at all for Ginny to think she'd gotten the better of him after all. He plunged a hand into his pocket and pulled out the object in question. Leaning close to Ginny's face, he held out the wand and whispered viciously, "Here's your fucking wand back. Have fun with it."

Ginny snatched the wand from his fingers and shouldered him aside without response. Draco ignored Madam Pince's glower and frowned, staring after Ginny as she returned to her table for her book. He hadn't known that the Weasel's sister was such a spitfire. But then, reason dictated that if her brother had a temper he couldn't keep a handle on... Oh well, who cared about Weasleys's tempers? Certainly not Draco. He'd gotten what he wanted: Pansy had left him alone.

Shrugging his robes straight, Draco took a moment to run his fingers through his hair and set it back in place. He fixed his crooked Head Boy's pin, flashed the librarian another bewitching smile that made her jump, and sauntered off, back to searching for Parvati.