Chapter 1

He sat silently on the grass, staring at the cloudless sky above him. A slight breeze ruffled his hair and he lifted one hand to remove the few strands that went to his face, his pale-blue eyes crinkled to prevent the dust from entering them.

Draco Malfoy was confused. When he was younger, way younger than he was now, he always entertained the idea that serving the Dark Lord would be cool. After all, he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys were always into the Dark Arts. Of course, he was never as obsessed with being a Death Eater as Lucius was. His father thought there was nothing in the world better than being a faithful follower of the Dark Lord. Draco, on the other hand, did not give a damn about the Dark Lord. He wanted only the power that comes with bearing the Dark Mark.

But now that father is in Azkaban…

Draco sighed as he lay back on the ground. Harry Potter, his archrival, had landed his father in Azkaban a little more than a year ago, and that planted some fear into him. He knew that his father did a clean job of everything and no matter what others might say the Malfoy prestige managed to get him out of a several tight spots. Draco looked up to him for that. That was why it came as a shock to him when he learned of what had happened.

I don't want to go to jail like he did, he thought with a shudder. I have a lot more things that I want to do with my life. I can't even stand a minute in Azkaban.

And now his loyalty to the Dark Side was wavering. As was planned, he would be receiving the Dark Mark as soon as he graduates at the end of the year. A year ago he would have been thrilled about it, but now he was starting to dread the coming of that day.

A part of him wanted to receive right at that moment, but a bigger part of him wanted to approach Dumbledore and revert to the side of Light. Yet he did not want to do so. First of all, it was admitting defeat to Potter, and that was the last thing that Draco would want to happen. Second, he was very sure that the Dark Lord's Death Eaters would be tracking him, the would-be Malfoy traitor, down. And, of course, he could not forget the power that he could have would never be his if he turns into a wimp and decides to run and confess to Dumbledore.

But power did not seem as important as his life and honor anymore.

What surprised him the most, however, was the fact that he was not particularly mad at Potter for what happened to Lucius. In fact, he was almost grateful.

He shuddered involuntarily and forced himself to stand up. It was bad enough that he wanted to change sides, but being grateful to Potter was an entirely different thing.

He dusted off his robes. There was Quidditch practice tomorrow and he needed all the sleep he can get. He trudged up the castle and opened the entrance doors quietly so as not to get caught. He tiptoed quietly across the hall and rounded a corner just to bump into someone. Someone he could not see.

He looked around and saw nothing, so he stood still and used his perfect hearing to try and detect any sound and reached blindly about. Finally, he heard it: a soft gasp as his hands came in contact with something silky.

"Who's there?" he asked tentatively, careful not to make his voice too loud in case Filch and Mrs. Norris were lurking nearby. Once more, he reached out and touched what he supposed was an Invisibility cloak, but this time he held on without giving the person-in-hiding to recover from the shock. He could feel fingers prying his clutched hand open, and he couldn't help but smirk.

"It would be better to just stop this futile attempt at escaping because I won't let go anyway," he said to the still unseen person and heard a small sigh of defeat. The hand trying to make him let go stopped fighting and a very familiar voice called out to him.

"All right, Malfoy. I give up," said a female voice. The person concealed behind the cloak revealed herself. "Now please let go."

Draco raised his eyebrows. Why, if it isn't our very own Head Girl! I didn't know that you were one of this school's night prowlers." He clucked his tongue. "What is this world coming to?" He took in the wand in her hand and the overflowing bag of books slung over her shoulders. "Been to the library, I presume?"

Hermione Granger glared at him. "Well, you've got some nerve! Our ever dearest Head Boy was out on the grounds," she said as she saw the state of his robes. She grinned triumphantly at him. "Why were you out, then? And without an invisibility cloak or something like that for a precaution, too. What if Filch had caught you? He'd have you hanging upside-down in his office without Dumbledore's consent in no time at all."

"Granger, I didn't know you cared so much." He placed his palm on his chest where his heart supposedly was. "Unfortunately, I don't return your feelings. But don't lose hope. I'll make sure to mention to Crabbe and Goyle that you fancied Slytherins. Hell knows they need some excitement in their lives. You might just be what they need." Without any other words, he turned his back to her and waved his hand casually, disappearing slowly into the dark.

Hermione glared indignantly in his direction. How dare he call me 'what'! What am I—an inanimate object? Here was another one of her rare attempts at getting one up on Draco, yet he still managed to flip the cards over and turn her own words against her. It was almost as good as keeping her mouth shut.

"What's his problem?" She asked herself as she began to pull Harry's invisibility cloak over her shoulders. She froze. The cloak wasn't there! She looked frantically down on her feet while her hand went through her bookbag, but came up with nothing. She swore at the realization of what had happened.

Draco had the cloak!

Meanwhile, Draco, who was nearing the Slytherin dungeons, stopped in his tracks. He looked down at his right hand and almost laughed out loud as he realized what was in his grasp. He had Granger's cloak. He grinned to himself and set off again for the dungeons. He whispered the password (Sidereus) to the blank wall before him and it split open to admit him into the Slytherin Common Room.

He walked through the open door, past the fireplace and down a flight of stairs leading into his sleeping quarters. Once in his room, he went to his dresser and placed Granger's cloak inside. Assuming it was hers, of course, though it was most probably Potter's.

He picked out a green shirt with matching pajamas and changed into them. With a wave of his wand, he extinguished the torches on the wall and collapsed into his bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Darkness. Everywhere she looked there was only darkness. She turned swiftly and shivered involuntarily as she did so. It was cold. Very cold. She could feel her fingers starting to numb. She rubbed her hands together in an attempt to heat them up a little.

She closed her eyes. She felt… light, calm. It did little to lessen the feeling that she was floating, and she reminded herself that she was, indeed, floating. She spread out her arms, feeling the cold through her fingertips, spreading from those ten points to inside her body. Her clothes fluttered in the unseen and unfelt breeze, fanning her hair away from her face. It was unexpectedly nice, dark and mysterious in its own bizarre way… and she found that she liked it.

Through her closed eyelids, she saw something shining. She buried her face in her hands, hoping to shut out the light that seemed to blind her by its sudden appearance in the dark.

Something warm touched her shoulder and made her open her eyes. She squinted to see what was out there. Something–a dot, was shining not far away, its multifarious colors beckoning her to come. Unconsciously, she picked herself up and walked—no, floated, towards the light… and stopped rigid in the air.

A thousand ice-cold, invisible hands were touching her from all angles, pulling her body away from the warmth. She relaxed visibly. The cold was pleasing. She allowed the now familiar tingle to flow through her body once more, before her mind began to rationalize and she realized what was happening. Cold was dark, dark was cold. And dark was evil.

She pulled against the hands holding her back. She struggled to reach the small light that seemed so very far away, her arms slowly nearing it. One by one, the hands disappeared. The closer she got to the light, the less hands held her back. Four inches… three inches… only two more inches to go and she can escape. An inch left, and she felt the only hand left trying to pull her away from the light. With renewed strength, the hand managed to draw her away from the many colors, but she stood firm. Reaching out her hand one more time, her fingers finally made contact with the spray of rainbow colors that felt so warm and contenting. The hand disappeared.

And so did she.

A/N: This is my not my first try at writing a fic, but my past fics suck and this is the best I've come up with. I don't know how this will turn out, but I need the readers' support and suggestions. Reviews please!!!