- Chapter 1 -

All was quiet in the Slytherin Common room that night in February. The flickering flames in the fireplace dimly lit the room, and the only sound to be heard was the crackling from the wood as it slowly decomposed into white ash. It must have been way past midnight and all of the house's students were fast asleep in their dorms – well, almost.

Anyone who did not look closer would have missed Astoria, a brown-haired Fourth Year resting in one of the numerous armchairs that were spread across the room. She was sitting upright with her arms folded below her chest, head tilted back. Every now and then several seconds of snoring disturbed her peaceful breathing. A heavy book rested on her lap, sliding dangerously closer to the left every time she twitched in her sleep; and so it was not the rumbling sound of the heavy stone door sliding open in the middle of night that made the girl suddenly jump up from the cosy chair, but much more the thud of the book finally slipping off her tights and landing on the floor. Still half asleep she stretched and let her shoulder blades clunk before she collected her belongings and turned to set off for the girls' dorm.

Clonk! Again, the book accompanied by a bunch of writing utensils littered the ground. Astoria faced a tall young man at the other side of the room.

"Draco?"

He had just tried to unnoticedly cross the Common Room. Smudges of half-dried blood stretched along one side of his pointed face, and flicks of his blonde hair looked scorched and sooty. The moment he realised that the girl had taken notice of him, he drew his wand.

"Don't you–" He was breathing heavily. "–move–" He staggered backwards until his back rested on the cold stone wall. "–a muscle!"

"What the–" She stopped dead. The expression on her face was a mix of fear and utter surprise. Mostly fear.

"Shut up!" Draco hissed angrily. His voice was so low she could barely hear him. Astoria could not tell whether this was simply because he did not want to wake anyone up, or because he had severe breathing problems. Although he grimaced with pain and a trail of blood was coming from his left lower leg as he inched along the wall, he didn't put his wand down even once. His eyes were fixed on her.

"You need help. I'll go get Professor Snape."

Locomotor Mortis!

"I warned you!"

So Astoria stood with her feet paralysed. She did not have the faintest idea what was going on. Her mind was racing, working hard to find a way out of the situation; and the harder she thought, the clearer the answer became: she did not have to get out of it. What was the worst that could happen? Nothing, really. Surrounded by dozens of sleeping housemates, Draco would have been foolish to seriously attack her; and of all the things one could say about him, he definitely was not stupid.

Draco had now reached the door to the boys' bathroom. One hand fumbled around for the door's handle, while the other one was needed to help maintain his upright position. By now, all colour seemed to have faded from his face; he was white as a ghost.

Before she realised what she was doing, Astoria reached for her wand. Expelliarmus!

A wooden stick hurtled through the air; she ducked her head just in time so it wouldn't knock her unconscious. They both knew that Astoria was terribly bad at duelling, but deprived of his wand and severely injured it was obvious that Draco was rather defenceless.

At the attempt to take a step, Astoria lost balance and tripped over.

"What's the counter-curse again?" Now, of course, she regretted her lack of attention in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"I'm not telling you," Draco snapped.

"What's the point in this? You are sitting in a puddle of blood, pale as death. We've got to do something!"

She started to hop over to the Common Room door.

"Please!" His voice was a tad softer now, but he was having trouble holding his head up, so he had ceased looking at her. "Don't tell anyone. I'm begging you."

Astoria was not one to enjoy being adventurous or breaking rules, and for a second she wished that Draco had managed to slip past her unseen, but considering the miserable condition he was in she had to act quickly.

Mindful of taking the boy's wand with her, she hurried to her dorm as fast as she could with her legs immobile and careful not to make too much noise. Seconds later she returned.

"Drink this!" she demanded, surprised by her own determination.

The girl was holding a tiny vial filled with a deep crimson liquid out to him.

"What's the use?" he snapped.

"Drain it right now or I'll go and get help. It's up to you."

Considering the lack of alternatives, the best Draco could do was to blindly swallow the bitter concoction; and so he did.

She kneeled down beside him. Diffindo! – The trouser leg that covered the wound was ripped open and Astoria started to lay out dried leaves of dittany onto the gash.

The young man concentrated to suppress an agonized groan. In pain, he looked down at his wound, which was burning like fire, but already showed tiny batches of newly grown skin around the edges. His face brightened a bit.

"So what was the counter-curse?" the girl asked.

Locomotor Vitae! he mumbled.

"Alright, here's your wand," she said, fishing it out of her cloak's pocket. "You should really go easy on yourself for the next couple of days. You've lost quite a lot of blood, and the wound might burst if you're not careful."

Astoria reached out her hand to help Draco stand up and then hastily left with a simple "Good night."

Where that injury came from, why he needed to keep it secret and whether Draco was a Death Eater or not – she did not want to know.