Title: Pieces
Author: Crayons
Summary: Pieces of a story never told, paint a picture of a freedom that was stole, lies and secrets take their toll, only together can they become whole.
Beta: Angel (thank you my sweet)
Pairing(s): HarryP/OC, DracoM/OC, HermioneG/RonW
Warnings & Blurb: Excessive use of bad language, sexual themes though nothing graphic, ghosts of violence and mention of uncomfortable subjects. As with most older HP FF's, this has vastly become an AU. Since this a reworking of an old story of mine, I feel no desire to tweak it to a point that would make it canon. I liked it and hope that you will too.
Disclaimer; I own J K Rowling. She is locked in my basement.
Dreams
She looked like an angel standing there, the centre of attention with every eye upon her, something about her presence had always drawn people in. Commanding. Charismatic. It occurred to Harry that these gifts were probably taught more than inherited, but as much as he hated the teachers he couldn't imagine her any other way. Her dress was flowing around her like it had a life of all its own; the top half was moulded to her like a second skin, a corset of ivory and bone laced with silver. She was practically glowing.
Happy.
It made him feel sick.
Sick enough that he wanted to grab her, to shake her until she realised that this couldn't possibly make her happy.
It was all wrong.
For the first time Harry realised he was outside, glancing around he took in the surroundings, unable to look at her any longer. In the distance he could see the ominous structure of a large white building. They were in a large garden with a white gazebo top, flowers that were blooming all around. It didn't take a genius to realise where they were, even if he had only been here fleetingly before. A red carpet flowed down the middle of rows and rows of seats like a river, cutting through the green of the grass with an almost violent flourish. The rows of seats were filled with a sea of head, all facing front and from behind Harry couldn't make out any of them. Hats, hair and hoods.
His eyes were invariably drawn once again to her, her blonde hair was hidden beneath a veil of silk so that only a few strands poked out, curled perfectly against porcelain skin. Under his touch those curls looked golden, but standing there, picture perfect, they looked silvery, an almost obscenely cruel visage to who she would become.
Who she was supposed to become.
"Ardelia" he called, but nobody turned around.
Nobody even flinched.
She was focused on the other blonde next to her and Harry's stomach tightened because of it. Malfoy was standing there, dressed in black, blonde hair pulled back into a smooth pony-tail. The perfect book end groom to her perfect bride. He was smirking at the person in front of them. That smarmy, self-assured grin that made Harry so often want to smack it from his lips. Lucuis was stood to Draco's right, dressed in similar robes. Young girls in pretty green flowing dresses were scattered around the front and each one had a boy stood rigidly next to them.
Harry attempted another yell, but this time no sound came out even to his own ears.
He heard the faint 'I do', it sounded horribly far away even though Harry was only standing at the end of the aisle. His heart pounded in his chest in what he could only assume was a futile bid for freedom from its impotent host, he swallowed back bile as Draco repeated the words.
They kissed to thunderous applause.
When the veil of shimmering silk was pulled back, Harry almost sobbed, she looked frozen, like nothing more than a doll. Heavy make-up, dark eyes and lips that looked like they had been painted with blood instead of lipstick.
"This isn't right" he cried, trying to run, move, but finding his feet thoroughly rooted to the spot. "Help me" but nobody even turned to acknowledge he was there. Then violet eyes turned and he felt them, she was looking straight at him. Emerald met amethyst and the world stopped. Every single noise stopped and Harry glanced around, this wasn't simply emotion induced sensory numbness, this was something else.
Everybody was frozen, including Malfoy who had a smile on his face as he'd obviously turned to say something to his father. Frozen in the captured private moment.
None of it really registered as he looked back to the woman.
Ardelia could see him.
The newly crowned Mrs Malfoy shook her head, her eyes were now smudged, perfect façade melting away before his very eyes, there were mascara tracks down her cheeks, tears dripping from her chin, leaving black droplets on the perfect white of her flowing skirts.
Suddenly the tears turned red and streams of blood were flowing freely from her brilliantly bright eyes, Harry still couldn't move.
He couldn't even choke out her name.
Red eyes appeared under the hood of the cloaked figure who had just bound the fated couple together.
All the colour drained from Harry's face, a skeletal hand was placed heavily and deliberately onto Ardelia's shoulder and her dress turned black. Both red and violet eyes were on fixed him, waiting and expecting him to do something, anything and he couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Could barely even breathe, it felt like there were a thousand tonnes restricting his chest.
Ardelia fell, dress pooling around her body.
Harry's feet broke free of their binds and he ran forward, dropping to his knees next to the limp body on the floor, he rolled her over and was almost sick. Those violet eyes that he loved so much were gone, replaced with empty sockets filled with blood.
Escapism
There was a scream from up above, it cut through the silence and ricocheted off the thick stone walls. The girl curled up in the chair with her feet tucked comfortably beneath her however, the sole occupant of the usually packed common room, didn't even look up. Hermione knew better than to check. Everybody else was downstairs dancing at the Halloween Ball. She was reading in the common room, but unbeknown to her best friend upstairs it was merely a guise to keep watch.
Harry thought she knew nothing, that he had been successfully discreet about his secret, but he was wrong.
The young witch had gone up there once, when she'd left dinner early to find her friend who had missed the meal entirely for the fourth time in the same week. Upon returning she had been worried by the groans that had come from his bed which was enveloped in the thick red and gold curtains of their house. Knowing how he suffered from nightmares due to his grim destiny and scar, she'd pulled back one ready to admonish him for suffering alone.
Then almost fainted, she saw the dark hair spread out on the pillow, eyes scrunched closed in what she could only assume was agony, skin damp and flushed. Until she'd seen the pale, long fingered hand appear from beneath the blankets, nails digging into the chest of the Boy-Who-Lived, dragging downwards across his skin. His back arched reflexively to the sharp pain and his eyes snapped open for a moment, though luckily too lost in whatever was going on beneath the blankets to truly see anything.
Rooted to the spot, transfixed by the sheer unexpectedness of the situation, frozen by embarrassment and horrified curiosity she watched. Knowing she should leave. Hermione held her breath as her best friends groans escalated to shouts, his eyes closed again as he arched off the bed, writhing beneath the ministrations of the unseen occupant. Leave. Run. Close the curtains and let him have his secrets. But the voice in her head wouldn't be quelled until she knew who was beneath those blankets. She didn't have to wait long, Harry had collapsed now into a seemingly boneless heap and the blankets shifted. Blonde hair emerged, the back of the head obscuring Harry's face from Hermione's view.
It was only when the quilt had slipped and she saw the impossible shimmer of two wings tattooed on each of the girls shoulder blades that she'd found the momentum to flee.
Yes, Hermione Granger knew her friend was playing a dangerous game.
But, what kind of friend would she be if she stood around idly and watched her friend get burned.
Without looking up from her book, she flicked her wand upwards and renewed the silencing charm on the boy's dormitories. Really you'd think two people with lives as dangerous and wrapped in magic as theirs were, would pay attention to the basics. Clucking her tongue in a disapproving noise, her wand was tucked away and her attention was once more fixed unwaveringly on her transfiguration homework.
A Confession
"You should know better than to-"
"Don't" the interjection had an unquestionable finality to it, Ardelia sat in the dark and dreary office of her Head of House and stared him in the cold unrelenting eyes, "what I do is not your concern."
"Who you do, is very much so." There was an emphasize on 'who' that made her shake her head,
"You act like you have some loyalty left to my father" she rolled her eyes,
"Not so loud Ms Bennett" Severus Snape hissed, it made her smile, though the smile was wry and somewhat cold.
"Which bit am I shushing? The fact that he's my father or the fact you're a spy?" Snape would have slapped her if he wasn't so mortally afraid of what she could do. He didn't reply and her smile broadened, she always won their little power games. It was almost chilling to see how easily she could adopt the cold and calculating mannerisms of those she spent most time with. But Severus saw through it, beyond the act, beyond the pretence. There was a nasty streak within her, one that left his own sadistic streak looking positively non-existent.
Dumbledore might not see it, but allowing her to transfer here had been an immense mistake.
"What about poor Mister Malfoy?" The change of tactics was flawless,
"Poor Mister Malfoy has been shagging everything that moved since he was sixteen years old. He's shown no loyalty to me" her voice was tinged with spite,
"It's not his place-"
"Oh but it's mine" she growled the coldness had vanished in an instant, surrendering to petulant impatience, "to play the dutiful fiancé whilst he prances around acting the part of the young-single pure blood?"
"You are his," it was a simple answer. These were not his rules, they were the rules of the Pure Bloods, put into practice centuries ago and not to be put asunder because women were changing their opinions and outlooks.
"No, I'm His" and silently Professor Snape agreed.
Down In the Dungeon
She moaned as his kisses deftly befell her neck, her back arched and her feverish skin pressed against his. He knew how to work her body, he'd been doing it since they were fourteen. Her didn't need much encouragement to wander back to that day when her and Draco had sat on that bed and been told by Draco's father what they must do. Left in no doubt as to their duty, their bind to each other, the magic's which transcended law and morality. Obscenely young for such commitment and expectations. Whether they agreed or not, wanted it or not, the arrangements that had been made before they were born were to be sealed today.
Ardelia would have protested, but she had been a pawn her whole life and had been trained well.
If anybody had noticed her tears during the act, nobody said anything.
Especially Draco, because he had been crying too.
"It's not sordid, or rape" Narcissa had said afterwards, perched on the end of the bed as Ardelia sobbed into a pillow.
"No it's tradition" Ardelia spat hatefully, wracked once again with desperate sobs, Narcissa had stopped talking then and opted for gently stroking her hair whilst her future daughter-in-law cried her heart out. They'd all been there, it was the price of purity. Nothing came for free, and the stronger the magic's required, the higher and less redeemable the price.
Fingers entwining with hers brought her back to the present as lips claimed hers in a searing, pained kiss, her nails raked down his spine painfully and he growled, angry & feral, he exploded inside of her and she wasn't too far behind. The pale, taught body rolled off her and dropped next to her, then lay on the green silk sheets in silence.
It was done at least, for another month.
A Fight
"But why?" a fist hit the table,
"Because." her eyes were red and puffy, they spent a lot of time like that lately.
"You still haven't given me a reason, 'because' isn't a reason." His voice cracked,
"It can't be done. I don't have a choice" she was openly crying again now.
"There's always a choice" it was a growl. His cheeks were flushed from anger, his knuckles bruised from where he'd punched the hard oak, but better the table than her. Nobody elicited anger in him like she did, white hot and raging anger. There was silence for a long time and then he left. The door slammed behind him and she felt emptier than she ever had in her life.
And A Kiss
They clung to each other, hands grabbing, fingers tearing at clothes. Lips bruised and swollen to the point of being sore, but neither willing to stop. Deep gasps for breath came when their lips parted before they smashed together again, nasal breathing alone nowhere near adequate to sate the oxygen starved teens. They fell onto the bed, still grabbing at each other, he needed to touch her, desperately, because whilst he was touching her she was his and everything was right with the world. It was when he let her go that bad things happened. More than that he needed to possess her, to own her, to lose himself in her so that the tirade of thoughts would stop racing in his head. Just for a moment. Only ever for a moment.
He took her from behind, knowing that if he looked into those eyes his heart would break.
No Use Crying Over Split Blood
Harry was cradling a mass of red hair in his lap, tears rolling down his cheeks. They were far away from Hogwarts, far away from anywhere, Hermione was a wreck, sobbing uncontrollably. Ardelia sat next to Harry and slinked an arm numbly around his waist, he didn't move his gaze from the cold eyes of his best friend's broken body. There was so much blood and his breaths were coming further and further apart, Harry was covered. Head to toe in a disgustingly morbid facsimile of the Gryffindor red he prided so much of his identity in. He'd been too late. Too late to stop his friend sacrificing himself over a fake attack.
They should have talked to Dumbledore first.
They were still children trying to fight in an adult's war and these mistakes were becoming abundantly frequent.
Never had they cost him so dearly before.
Ardelia couldn't force herself to feel sad for the fallen redhead, she didn't like Ron Weasley much, however the sight of utter despair in the familiar emerald eyes was enough to wrench at her very soul. His cheeks wet with tears, she had never wanted to take away somebody else's hurt that much before, she had been raised to be a selfish creature, relationships tenuous and interchangeable.
But this, this was absolutely painful.
Her own tears started to drip readily down her cheeks, for multiple reasons. Sadness that she would never have a friendship that touched her this deeply, robbed of her childhood and humanity, regret that the one person she wanted to help right then, through his agony and she could do nothing. Too many reasons to count, but not one of them was sorrow for the broken wizard cradled in her lover's arms.
One pearly droplet fell straight off her chin. Suddenly the blood started to dry, she was crying freely now, but she wasn't thinking about Ron, she was thinking about the inevitable, when she'd have to walk away from this. From him. Would he be this pained then? Would losing her make his eyes break like that? Extinguish. It was unbearable.
When she'd finished crying she looked at Harry who was staring at her in shock and horror, Ron was sitting up and Hermione had stopped sobbing, all eyes were on her but it was Harry that spoke first.
"What the fuck are you?"
Time & Time Again
Dumbledore frowned at the couple sitting in front of him,
"Well?"
"Well what, sir?" Harry feigned innocence perfectly,
"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"To be fair, I don't think that's any of your business" Ardelia's tone was biting, strange lilac eyes cold.
"I think it is when it concerns Mr Potter" the headmaster's eyes remained light, his tone gentle though the intensity of his gaze betrayed any notion that this was a happy meeting.
"He's a big boy" she countered and Harry was suddenly very aware that he was missing something. Some part of the puzzle he wasn't privy to, as was so often the case. Really, would it hurt, just once for people to treat him like he was an adult and not some imbecile to be sheltered?
"Indeed" the word was soft, blue eyes turned to face Harry, "but what he doesn't know might just get him killed." This was a turn up for the books, Dumbledore campaigning in favour of Harry knowing things. It was almost enough to make him ask, to draw him into the conversation they were having as if he were not even here, but Ardelia stood, clearly her patience had evaporated and she stormed from the room.
Harry gave his beloved mentor an apologetic glance before he followed the blonde down the stairs, pace quick in the hopes of catching up with her.
Out of the Darkness
Red, angry eyes stared at her, "how long?' It was a growl, barely above a whisper but it held all the venom it was supposed to,
"A year next month" came her answer, the time for lies and coyness had passed. Another angry hiss escaped the thin lips of the other.
"Do you love him?"
Did she? It was a question she had been asking herself over and over, one she had not quite fathomed an answer to. But here was not the place to ponder, to question. That time was for when she was alone, stood here she was resolute in her disobedience, the fact that he was treating her like a possession was nothing new. Her insolence was not new either, she was too much like him.
Pride would not let her back down.
"Yes."
Then all she knew was searing pain.
"You will not see him again" it was an order, but she was far too gone to the agony of the curse to fathom comprehension.
And even if she could, it was an order she was going to ignore.
Betrayal
"I think you need to tell me what's going on."
"Do you now?"
"Yes."
"What happened to 'just sex'?"
"Don't bullshit me Ardelia, what's going on?" then there were tears, she was so good at staying strong but there was too much. It was easy to be indifferent when you didn't care, but under the intensity of his gaze she knew the only thing she could do was tell the truth. They had paraded around in a bubble of ignorance for as long as they could, he had known there were things she had not told him and she had known that there would come a time when would need to ask the questions. However she had become too used to the unspoken truce they shared.
This was like a blow to the gut.
She broke and it took mere moments for her to feel his arms slide around her, the firmness and heat of his body as she cried against him. The sobs renewed every time she realised that this would probably be the last time he held her.
Harry gathered her up in his arms and they sat together for a while.
"You'll hate me" she whispered after what seemed like an age, sniffling and wiping her cheeks with her hands. There was no dignity in her now, none of the calculated beauty. Her eyes were red and she was a wet, snotty, hysterical mess.
"I couldn't hate you, I've tried enough. It doesn't work."
But this wasn't a fight, this wasn't her being stubborn, or evil. This was the truth and it was horrific.
"He's my dad Harry" she pulled away, he pulled her back. Green eyes locking with hers.
"I know."
"You know?" she was confused, her eyes narrowed and for a long moment she couldn't comprehend. At first she had thought he had misunderstood, but the unwavering gaze he was fixing her with, the fact that he hadn't released her from his grip and that damned unwavering Gryffindor stare made her swallow thickly.
He knew.
"I just needed to hear to say it" they sat in silence for a while, he kissed the top of her head. "I still love you."
He'd never said it before.
"How could you?"
"How could I not?"
Blue-Eyes
"You're still going to marry me, right?"
"I don't have a choice."
"Then do whatever you want with him" he conceded with a curt nod and as she walked away the cold, steel-blue eyes didn't break once from her retreating form.
Desperation
In the darkness of the old, dusty shack, on an ancient moth-eaten bed were two figures. A naked, slender back with two tattoo's drawn with pure silver could be seen, glowing against the firelight. Underneath her, lying on the bed, mouth open in a cry of pleasure was the Boy-Who-Lived. They made quite the pair, pale flawless skin against tanned, battle scared and calloused. Blonde hair knotted in his hand, pulled back painfully so her back was arching painfully. His other hand gripping her leg as he thrust against her movements. His own dark hair tousled and matted against the pillow.
She was riding him, muscles tensing and flexing with the movement, his hands ran up her back and he pulled her in for a frantic kiss. There were no thoughts, no coherence in their movements, just the mutual strive towards pleasure that usually left them covered in scratches and bruises.
Red eyes watched from the fireplace, but the couple were too wrapped up in their ecstasy to notice.
In Sickness And...
She rested her cheek against the cold toilet seat after emptying most of the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl.
"Are you okay?" Draco's voice was concerned but moreover because he wasn't used to being rejected quite so vehemently.
"Fine" she replied, her voice echoing out from his en-suite, but the reassurance was followed by yet more retching.
"You don't sound fine. Maybe you should see Pomfry" he suggested, flipping through a book leisurely on his bed.
Ardelia eventually appeared in the doorway,
"I'll be fine," she sat down next to him, picking up her own book clearly intent on making more headway on their assignment. "Now where were we?"
Draco leaned over and kissed her neck, pulling away she made another beeline for the toilet and Draco rolled his eyes as her heard another round of breakfast splash into the toilet.
"You keep this up and I'm going to start feeling repulsive. It's not good for my ego you know."
Setting the Scene
Harry lay in bed, very much naked save for the quilt covering him from the waist down. He was on his side, patiently tracing the familiar silver lines on the back of the pale-skinned girl next to him, she mewled, stretching against the sheets enjoying the affectionate attention.
They were laying in a comfortable silence enjoying the afterglow of the two hours they'd spent teasing, kissing and fucking. Harry watched the way the silver pictures seemed to ripple underneath her skin as he touched them, almost as if…
"Are they real?" he wondered idly,
"No dear," she chuckled, the condescension in her tone was gentle.
"They look-"
"I know. I had to have real silver transferred in," his finger was tracing the left wing now. As his rough digits traced them, he left a trail of goosebumps along her skin. Not many people touched her like this. She was used to the hurried, sexual touches. But this? That was entirely different.
"Did it hurt?"
"Quite a bit" she grinned pressing back to his touch, silently urging him not to stop.
"Why did you get them?"
"Part of my heritage, I didn't have a choice." A sigh, "I told you about my mother?"
"That she was a Phoenallio, yes you did. And that your fath-" he hesitated, "He claimed her because he thought it would make him immortal."
"He'd misread the prophecy."
"How can you misread that kind of thing?" his fingers stopped and she missed the touch, no amount of wiggling appeared to be luring him back to the gentle moment. It was lost and so she rolled over, eyes raking him over. Sometimes she wondered why she was so drawn to him, the gangly, messy-haired, hopelessly excitable teen who pushed against everything she was taught to be. Then he'd smile at her, all teeth and glittering green eyes full of optimism and strength and she'd forget she even questioned it.
"It said that, for a human to fall in love with a Phoenallio they gain the means to live forever. But he didn't translate it properly. He saw Phoenallio, love and live forever and that was that, he never really grasped emotions. He's a bit of a sociopath." And that was possibly the understatement of the century.
"But he got your from it. And you're many things but I know you're not an emotionless monster" a pause he was frowning, a nod, "so if you're just going to keep healing him every time I get close to killing him?"
"I didn't even know I could cure people until Weasley." She didn't mention that she'd never known she could love until Harry, there were some things too dangerous to say aloud, "but I imagine there are some things I cannot cure" she said wistfully.
"You can't love him, he's a monster."
"He's my father."
"If it came down to a choice? Me or Him?"
"Harry!" she was annoyed now, "stop it"
"Sorry."
A month had passed since they'd openly started discussing her father, and Christmas was fast creeping around the corner. Hogwarts had been blanketed in a sheet of snow and everybody was excited about the upcoming holidays. Everybody except Harry and Ardelia who were dreading more than anything, spending two whole weeks apart. Tension between them was starting to heighten, taking an almost tangible stand at times.
This was only accentuated by Harry's unwavering interest in her history, her parents and her loyalties. It was putting a strain on both of them but mostly on her because whereas he seemed determined to unearth everything about her, she was much more content knowing as little as possible.
"What happens to Phoenallio when they die?" the blonde exhaled and rolled back onto her front, the fingers were back and they'd entered their comfort zone again, Harry's continuous need to learn, to discuss, to talk betraying his childhood of isolation.
"They're reborn,"
"Huh?"
"They become Phoenix's Harry."
"So one day you'll be a phoenix?"
"I don't know, I'm only half-blood remember, it's quite possible I'll just die"
"Can you be killed?"
"Only by magic" she realised she was giving out very dangerous information now and the part of her that was reminding her that in technically, Harry was her enemy made her stop, she sat up and kissed him gently. Pressing her body against his, hands roaming over his skin, lips moving from his lips and down his jaw, teasing with her teeth and lips towards his ear.
"I don't think I can," he chuckled, "not again," a gasp as her hands moved southwards under the blanket, "not so soon" this time it was her fingers eliciting the groans and sighs.
Somehow in spite of his protests, they did.
Touché
The first game of the New Year was never particularly enjoyable, it was usually wet and cold. This year was no exception. Harry had been in a foul mood for weeks, still entirely unsure why Ardelia hadn't returned to Hogwarts at the end of the Christmas break. Dumbledore nor Snape would tell him a thing, so he'd final braved confronting Malfoy who had been even less helpful.
The blonde had disappeared and Harry was a breath away from launching a hair-brained mission just to get her make.
To make sure she was okay.
His head fell back against the chair, he was exhausted. It was over and they'd beaten Slytherin in a skin-of-their-teeth game of Quidditch that had lasted a spirit-breaking nineteen hours. He was caked in mud, blood and sweat. The points were so high it had taken a few minutes to figure out whether this was the first time retrieval of the snitch would not win the game automatically; Gryffindor had won the game because of skill, Malfoy had caught the Snitch, Harry was just relieved his distraction hadn't cost them the cup.
Of course she had to show up on that day, he'd been able to feel her eyes on him from moment he'd walked onto the pitch. From that second all he had wanted was for the game to be over. Ardelia's violet eyes had been watching his every move, it was wholy consuming and Harry hadn't thought of anything but that for the entire brutally long game. Instead of looking for a glimmer of gold, his eyes were searching for hers every chance he got. Draco was flying well, Harry wasn't.
The commentator had said as much, but it was all a blur. When Draco touched down, snitch in hand, crowd ready to hoist him up on their shoulders but he'd run straight through them, unseeing and uncaring. There was no point in pretending he was sorry, no point in facing their concerned disappointment. His team would get over it, they'd still won after all and this game could be etched into the record books.
He was sure Malfoy would love that.
It had been a month since they'd talked, sprinting into the shower rooms with every intention of running through the school until he found her, he skidded to a halt on the wooden floor. There she was, sitting astride the thin bench, a long, supple naked leg on each side.
He gulped.
She opened her cloak, the nakedness continued.
Harry practically leapt on her.
The sounds of roaring cheers and celebrations barely breaking through the miasma of their groans and sounds of flesh.
He'd struggled to get his mud-caked gear back on afterwards, and limped out of the locker rooms and up to the common room. It wasn't until later he realised that anybody could have walked in, a muddy and exhausted team probably all waiting to change and use the showers and wondered why they didn't.
They were getting careless.
Sticks & Stones
"But he's shagging her Mione" the voice was disgusted,
"I know Ron" she stroked his head,
"She's the fucking enemy" brown eyes were flaming.
"She saved your life" the reminder was gentle but firm, Hermione had known his reaction wouldn't be positive. It was why she hadn't told him about it beforehand. Well that and the fact that it hadn't been her secret to tell.
"How long?"
"Since before Halloween at least. Not sure how long before that though" it was a sigh,
"She'll break his heart, she's getting married in September."
"It's his choice Ron" and she kissed her boyfriend's forehead tenderly, "I'm sure he's all too aware of the complications."
Of Summers Passed
She sat on the tiny single bed, long legs crossed elegantly beneath her.
"What did you say you wanted again?" he had thought he made it quite clear before he left Hogwarts they were over. Not that they'd ever started anything beyond the flirting, the looks across the rooms, the forbidden temptation wasn't for him. He wanted a nice girl, like Ginny or Hermione. Or hell even Cho. Anybody else seemed like a safe choice when compared with the blonde currently on his bed.
The one that was already set to marry the biggest arsehole in the school after she graduated.
"To see you"
"I told you," waved his hands trying to keep his voice down so as not to wake, "this has to stop. Besides how did you even find me, get through the wards. This place is protected."
"No. You snogged me in a broom cupboard then told me that was it, then you snogged me in detention and had a mental break-down. Then you shagged Cho bloody Chang in the astronomy tower when we were supposed to be doing Potions homework. Then you snuck into my room after the End of Year Ball,"
"I know what happened," he interjected, a blush on his cheeks now. Remembering how beautiful she had looked in the emerald gown she'd worn. It had been skin tight, looking like liquid the way it had moved over her curves. Harry hadn't been able to look away, he hadn't even been able to pretend to be interested in the dance. It had been a hard year, to say the least of his frustration of how much he'd wanted her. Between the Marauders map and the cloak it had been criminally easy to get into the abandoned Slytherin common room. Then all he'd had to do was wait.
In retrospect it was a silly plan, she could have gone back with Malfoy, or even come back with Malfoy. But he had been desperate, he hadn't even fully shed the invisibility cloak before he was inside her, that sinful dress hiked up around her hips. Stupid move number two had been showing her that cloak, she was the enemy after all.
"Then again on the train, before you muttered something about not being able to do this anymore, again, and running off."
The train had been an even more dangerous move, the lock he'd put on the door could have been broken by anybody upwards of the second year. Something about taking her as the train sped them home through the countryside had been the most erotic moment of his life to date. Thinking about it now made him shift his weight a little, uncomfortably.
"So you show up here because?"
"I couldn't stay away" she gave him a wolfish smile and Harry felt a little bit like he was on the precipice of getting devoured. Even though he had made every single move towards her, somehow he felt now like he was nowhere near as in charge as he thought he had been.
"You're engaged"
"Not by choice."
"To Malfoy!" He ignored her protest as if she hadn't spoken.
"And?"
"This won't end well" her head was tilted to the left, amethyst eyes were gleaming.
"I'm not asking you to fall in love with me Harry. I'm asking you to let go, have some fun, take what you want." The statement of submission was punctuated by her leaning back on the bed a little, palms flat against the mattress behind her.
"Just sex?" a nod, "I guess I could do that" and they did.
The Prophecy
The daughter and the enemy of the serpent,
Will rise and together entwine,
The rebirth of the Father,
Will make the lovers blind.
In love he will perish,
And in love be unborn.
"So I was right, you are just going to bring your Dad back to life." It was a growled accusation more than a question, Dumbledore and Snape watched from hooded eyes. Harry Potter's anger radiated in the small room that was the Headmaster's office. Ardelia remained unmoving, eyes still on the sheet of parchment though clearly she had finished reading it.
"I don't bloody know, do I?"
"What's the point it's your fucking destiny! Is that why you're even with me? To save him? Is that all this has been? A joke. Some fun. Might as well fuck with Harry's heart a bit before we destroy him."
This time it was Harry that fled the room, and the blonde was too frozen by the accusations to follow.
Deeper Underground
She sat, unsure of what to do next. Unsure of much at all if she was honest with herself. Could she betray her father to save Harry? Could she betray Harry and choose her father? All she really knew is that as long as she was in Draco's room, him sleeping peacefully next to her, she could pretend at least for a while that everything was normal and that she had no questions to answer.
Apparently life was much easier when you were a mindless pawn.
A Big Bad Boom
There was fire everywhere and the normally lush green lawns of Malfoy Manor had been stained red with blood. Violet eyes searched everywhere for a sign of somebody being alive. Anybody. There was nothing, corpses and darkness, moonlight casting eerie shadows that made her shiver.
She'd seen blonde hair fall but she couldn't see anymore, tears streaked her vision, streaming down her face.
"Draco!" she screamed but silence answered her, her father had been here but he'd gone now and she hadn't a clue where, she ran back to the manor, doors were open and it was ruined, dark-magic residue stained the walls and made them dark, almost made it look like the building itself was oozing black blood.
The foundations of her protection were falling and she was alone for the first time in her life. In made her feel genuinely sick, there was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. Nobody to direct her save her conscience and own desires.
By the time she found Lucius she was hysterical, he would tell her nothing. Called her a traitor, she told him that her father would punish him and he informed her that he already had. She saw the blood seeping from his arm and blanched when she saw bone. Voldemort had stripped Lucius's arm free of all flesh up to the elbow. She was almost sick. Almost. Instead she tore her eyes aware from the exposed skeleton and fixed them on his cold blue eyes.
"Why?" Ardelia asked, but he ignored her. Giving up she ran out the front door but still could see nobody. She saw a broom lying discarded on the floor next to a dying man, she kneelt beside him but it was too late, there no flesh left on his face at all. She waited with him until he the choking, rasping breaths subsided so at least he hadn't been alone.
She threw up before she got on the broom.
Suddenly she knew where they were, her Dad had gone to them. Her beautiful white wedding gown was soaked with blood now but it didn't matter, half the wedding guests were dead on the lawn and she didn't even know where her groom was. Draco had been the one constant thing in her life since her childhood, the closest thing she had to a best friend, they had shared so many horrible memories.
There hadn't been a time where she hadn't known she would belong to him.
And now she didn't even know if he was alive.
Ardelia landed awkwardly on the ground and swore, the ride had been awkward in a dress and she had never been particularly adept at flying a broom. Straightening up she walked through the pain and walked up towards the castle which was being engulfed by flames. Students were crying and screaming, running out of the pyre that was once a school.
Some were still inside she could make out their silhouettes in the windows. A grey-haired man fixed his blue eyes on her and she wondered when Dumbledore had started to look so old.
"Where are they?" her voice was hoarse, he pointed into the forest which had never cast so much fear over her before, she swallowed hard, "how many?"
"A few. Harry." She wondered when she had become so transparent that even the senile old wizard knew exactly why she had come. Then again perhaps he was just hoping the best of her.
"What about the school?"
"We're trying" and she wondered briefly why Dumbledore was not helping the others, but she realised with a start that he'd been waiting for her because now he'd turned away and was walking back to the other teachers who were trying to sort the fire.
She took slow, heavy steps towards the forests edge, then when she saw a flash of green light up the sky she started to run. It didn't matter that the branches were tearing her dress, or her legs, or that her feet were in agony because she had kicked off the ornamental shoes. Ardelia knew she looked a mess, she didn't care, she just needed to get to him.
But everything froze when she saw Hermione cradling the head of Harry Potter in her arms.
"Harry?" it was barely audible, Hermione glared at her,
"Ardelia" it was a hiss, she turned to see her father lying on the floor, Ron was lying next to him, brown eyes cold and empty. "Come now child" a sharp inhale "help your father" his breathing was slow, she looked to the body a hysterical Hermione was holding and back to the dimming red eyes.
"Don't!" Hermione screeched as Ardelia moved towards Voldemort, "if you save him then they died for nothing. Then Harry died for nothing!" Heedless, she kneeled next to her father,
"Draco's dead" it was simple, she didn't know what else to say. A part of her was hoping that her father would negate this fact, insist that her new husband was alive and well and that he hadn't made her a widow on her wedding day. Her tears had dried up and she feared that she'd used them all up. Eyes dry she looked at her father dispassionately,
"Now Ardelia" he was angry now "before it's too late" she looked at Harry's body.
"It already is" another hiss, louder this time and his hand gripped her arm, pointed fingernails digging in and breaking her pale skin. Rivulets of blood started to trickle and one by one then dropped onto the dying man beneath her, he screamed and Ardelia watched was they burnt holes into his arm like acid.
"Do you really" and sharp intake of breath "hate me that much,"
"You can't steal life father" she shook her head "it's a gift" she held his hand and watched as the life faded out of his eyes, she kissed his forehead and then stood up. It was over.
She walked over to Hermione and sat down next to her, looking into the wide-open, green eyes that she'd realised, too late, meant more to her than anything. All her spoiled insistence that she would not choose between her lover and her father had proven to be a pathetic façade against her moral impotence in the face of a crisis. She hadn't wanted to choose between her best friend and the man she desperately love. Two lives and she had selfishly hoped that she could keep them both.
Now both were gone.
"Heal him" Hermione sobbed,
"I can't bring back the dead" she looked at the sky, her heart ahced so painfully it felt like a mortal wound. Everybody was dead because she'd been unable to choose. Her father, her husband and now Harry Potter. She leaned forward and kissed Harry's cold lips, wrapping her arms around him she finally sobbed.
Hermione moved, to allow Ardelia to express her guilt in the final moments with Harry before the auror's and teachers descended, her eyes settled on Ron who she'd been cradling in much the same way fifteen minutes ago whilst Harry was standing off against Voldemort. Her best friends were both dead, she'd been almost steadfast in her insistence that Ardelia would realise her mistake and do the right thing.
But it had become apparent too late what a perfect trap this was.
The beautiful late September day had started so simply, Harry had been lost in his melancholy, knowing that somewhere out there he was losing her. That Ardelia was choosing Malfoy and that when she returned to school next week she would be bound to somebody else. What better time could Voldemort have launched an attack on the school than while his greatest threat was lost in his sorrow, broken-hearted and distracted?
They'd all witnessed what levels of distraction Ardelia could illicit from him during the January Quidditch match. It was a perfect play and they saw it too late.
Ardelia's eyes were closed but Hermione was watching numbly, the tears fell onto the dark hair in a torrent and at first she had hoped and prayed they would do something. They hadn't, except dampen his hair. But there was something else now and Hermione looked down, she stared in fascination as red droplets of blood, dripping from Voldemort's nail imprints, turned silver as they came into contact with Harry's skin.
"Ardelia" she pointed, Ardelia sat up and followed her gaze. She sat for a moment, not comprehending what was going on. And then she did, using her own nails she sliced through her arm with a hiss of pain, making sure to hit the blue lines that criss-crossed her wrist, blood spraying out now. It engulfed Harry in a silver blanket and then he started to glow.
She managed to stay conscious enough to see the life spark back into the Emerald eyes and then everything went black.