Her toes curled over the edge of the stairs as she descended slowly into the darkness of the common room. The last dying embers of the fire illuminated a small orb of light surrounding it while the rest of the room feel into deep shadows, Roxanne stood amongst the darkness, feeling like a beacon in the night as the little light in the room reflected off her pale skin. Pulling her long jacket tighter around her exposed flesh in an attempt to become one with the darkness she moved away from the only source of light which remand in the room and headed instead for the exit. As she descended the spiral stairs towards her liberation her cold feet screamed in protest, a demand she refused for fear that the clicking of her shoes would betray her. The flexible ballet flats buried deep in her pocket would only deter the already chronically ungraceful girl.

Making her way slowly down the hall way, her ears sharp and her over sized hood pulled far over her face, but as always the small amount of light which poured in through the windows of this ancient castle gave her away to anyone who knew her, or has at least those who noted her fair skin as they passed her in the hallways. Her blanched complexion was only made more extreme with the combination of her long dark hair and light pink lips, the overall look, while for the most part quite extreme looking was softened by the small constellation of freckles which lightly splashed about her face. Slowly making her way past the sleeping portraits and the never ending hallways she had yet to venture down. Each one ending in the darkness she desired a darkness she could never claim. Finally after a close call with the Prefect from Hufflepuff which would have cost her her mission, she found her way to the stairs which would take her to the Owlery.

The tall over powering presence of the stone walls reminded her of her insignificance, and she couldn't help but think about the downward crushing power if the stones came crashing down. The Ravenclaw in her rushed through a number of spells which would counter gravities offense as she slipped on her ballet flats to avoid the rancid hay and droppings which littered the floor. She quickly looked to the railings for Hemlock, her ebony owl. '

"The rain must be worse than I thought, he is never late" She mused out loud, no longer worried that she would be over heard, especially with the constant assault of rain on the rooftop. The thought of her small owl in this rain made her nervous, though it was his small stature which made him so fast, this wind would shoot him far off course. She sighed loudly as she took herself to the stairs once again to sit and wait. Placing her head in her palms, elbow on knees she never remembered falling asleep. Although she should have expected it. Waiting for news from him meant very little sleep.

The sound of footsteps did not wake her, but the slightest brush of the mans robe as he passed had her pulling herself from the ground in a rather ungraceful manner. This movement startled them both and she saw the missed step before it happened, and as gravity took its inconvenient course she instinctively reached out for the man who stood in the doorway, grasping his forearm. He was better prepared for her movements and did not go tumbling down the steep stairs with her as she was expecting. Instead he stood strong, as she hung onto him, leaning almost entirely back. He made no movement to help her into a right position, though he did not shake her loose either, a fact she was grateful for. As her free arm waved her into balance he stepped back to make room for her on the ledge of the top step. Her eyes darted from his cold grey eyes to his platinum hair. She recognized him as non-other than Draco Malfoy.

"You're out kind of late Mr. Malfoy." She smiled at her own hypocrisy.

"A simple thank you would suffice" His voice was as cold as his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement. It seemed that what he had heard of her reputation for being argumentative and difficult had been dead on.

"A thank you?" She tilted her head at him, squinting her eyes for a moment before she continued, "...for knocking me over?"

He made a noise in the back of his throat which she assumed was a chuckle, "Firstly Miss O'Nickle, one does not expect to run into another person in the middle of the night, let alone one who chooses to sleep at the top of the stairs. I thought I handled the situation -" He paused, as a crocked smile tugged at the corners of his pale lips as he searched for the appropriate words. "... delicately."

She opened her mouth to protest but he was already ready with his hand held up to silence her.

"Secondly, if it was not for me you would be in a heap at the bottom of those stairs." His eyes flashed.

"Interesting that you see it that way Mr. Malfoy, because as I remember it you only stood there. Preventing yourself from falling without assisting the damsel is no grounds for a 'thank you'."

"Roxanne, you are hardly a damsel, and I doubt you have ever been in distress." To his shame, his voice quickly wavered as he noted the look of pain on her face. She was so relentless in classes he shared with her. In all the years he has known her, she never lost an argument. His victory over her did not give him as much pleasure as he would have expected.

She released the breath she didn't realize she was holding, and looked for an escape, silently cursing at herself for her inability to conceal her emotions, but her lack of sleep was taking a toll on her, and even her grades had begun to suffer for it. She refused to allow it to get the better of her here, in this company, so she only glanced up at him from behind her eyelashes, "And if I were, you obviously would not be much help. You're legendary for your' self preservation at the expense of others." She hissed. Her voice was harsher than she intended, and she immediately regretted it, but she moved away from him and pushed herself deeper into the Owlery.

He refused to show the pain her words caused, and allowed her to push by him. Her movement reminded him of why he had come up here in the first place. The letter for his mother weighed heavy in his pocket. Roxanne was wrong, well mostly so. His self preservation melted away when his family entered the picture, but he did not correct her error. Her knowledge of his deeper emotions was irrelevant. There was more to him then he let on, but his ability to compartmentalize gave him the opportunity to be different people in different situations, and right now he was playing the part of the attendant student, and the closest connections to Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters were` his opinion of the muggleborn.

The moment of silence deepened between them, giving her the time for her guilt to increase. She was in Ravenclaw for a reason, and his facade was not fooling her. She heard the rumours, rumours which she usually ignored, but standing here now in front of Draco she understood there were layers he expertly hid. Perhaps there was more to him then moral coward she had spent seven years with. Her guilt swam to the surface once again and she turned towards him, "Draco,-" she paused as she waited for his grey eyes to meet hers, "-I'm sorry, it was not my-" but she was interrupted by the screaming of an owl, their head whipped around towards the sound.

There sat both of their owls, her already tiny owl dwarfed next to his. They both held something for their respective owners. Draco's held an over sized package, complete with a red satin bow. Someone took care to wrap this care package. Roxanne guessed it to be from his mother, though it was an odd idea to imagine a sensitive side to him. Her own owl held a small letter which had seen better days. She couldn't image the lengths her step brother must have gone through to have those few lines make it to her in one piece.

He moved before she did, scooping up the package and swiftly replaced it with his letter of return, which looked to have the same love and care as the one from his mother. He reached over towards her owl tugged the painfully destroyed envelope from its leg and glanced down at the crumpled note. The initials 'C.H' remained persistent but faded in the upper right hand corner. The initials seemed familiar to him, and he racked his memory for the answer.

As she watched him pull the envelope from Hemlock, she noticed his gentle demeanour and the deep V between his eyes as he analyzed the initials in the corner. Her expression mirrors his. There is no way that he would be able to pin the name to her. Her step brother initials did not match hers. Her father refused to offer his last name 'O'Nickle' to the offspring of another man. It was bad enough that he had to house and feed the boy from his blood-traitor-of-a-wife's past. If Draco recognized the initials it would only be because the rumours about his assimilation as a Death Eater were true. Colton Hawke, her step-brother had attended Durmstrung by her father's orders, not Hogwarts. When she mentioned a brother, people assumed they shared surnames, and she did not correct them.

Standing there in front of him she decided that it would not be Draco Malfoy who ousted this little known fact. Approaching him slowly she reached out her hand, blocking the envelope to break his connection. His face lifted, the furrow still remained.

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy." Her hand still extended, her weak smile was soft and pleading. She could barely handle the image of innocence. At least she wouldn't have to lie to him if he asked how the envelope came to be in such a state.

Her smile softened him; he abandoned his contemplations as he placed the letter in her hand. He had never seen her so vulnerable before, perhaps she wasn't always an unreasonable shark. But the state of the letter and those initials nagged the back of his mind.

"Looks to me like C.H went through a lot to get this to you." He said softly.

Her eyes squinted for a moment at his kindness before she responded. "It seems someone cares just as much about you." She nodded towards the package tucked under his arm.

"Is that so hard to believe?" He questioned more harshly then he intended. Pity, he was being almost human.

She paused for a moment at his change in demur, but his softness from a moment ago still lingered, and she realized that for the most part, this man, trapped between the worlds of his own emotions had a hell of a bark, with no bite. A corner of her lips tugged up for a moment before she answered, looking up at him.

"No, it's not."

He took a quick breath, and it was then that he realized how close they stood as the smell of her long hair tingled his nose. Earth, she reminded him of fresh soil and leaves. The moment seemed to last forever before she cleared her throat, and he was snapped back.