Disclaimer: All copyrighted material belongs to J.K. Rowling. Anything else belongs to me.

A/N: Dedicated to mysterious works for me, just because she'll hate me for it.

Adrianna Malfoy watched Harry sleep. She'd been watching for years. Watching him grow, watching him learn, watching him become the wizard she needed him to be. She had helped him whenever she could, although he wasn't always as appreciative as he should have been.

He didn't know she watched. None of them did. Not Harry, not Dumbledore, not even Hagrid. And, she smirked to herself, especially not Lucius' idiot son. He was too wrapped up in Potter to see Auntie Adrianna standing right before him. Not that he would recognize her even if he did see her. She doubted Lucius had ever even told him about her.

She had left years before Draco or Harry had been born. Her departure had not been a dramatic spectacle, with much yelling and tears followed by the ever-dramatic "leaving and never coming back" speech. That wasn't her way. She preferred to work behind the scenes, never receiving much limelight but getting more done than all those pureblood drama queens combined. She had simply left one night, packing a bag and vanishing into the darkness. She did not know how well Lucius had searched their home for her, but no great fuss had been made over her disappearance in public.

It had been this total lack of caring on Lucius' part that had cemented her resolve and fueled her ire. She would make her brother pay for his pride, his heartlessness, and his countless sins against her. Oh, yes, she would make him pay. And if that meant bringing down the pureblood's "Hope of Wizarding Society" by aiding the mudblood's "Hope of Wizarding Society", then so be it. She would destroy him, and she would use Potter to do it.

She felt a pang at this, and returned her attention to the boy sleeping below her. Over the years, she had developed a deep affection for him, one that caused a small twinge in her conscience whenever she though of how she was using him.

She shook her head in reproach of herself. She knew enough about him to realize that he would be dedicated to Voldemort's destruction with or without her aid; although it was pleasant to think that she had lent a hand in his upbringing as a wizard.

Seeing him stir, she dropped the letter she was carrying onto his bedspread and nuzzled him fondly. He looked around sleepily and, seeing her, smiled with equal fondness before reaching out to stroke her.

"Morning, Hedwig."

A/N: Reviews appreciated.