Between Hope and Fear
By patronsaintof
Disclaimer: I own the Empathsphere, and that's about it. All else is Rowling's.
Author's Note: This story will be updated once a week, because I have another story I'm writing that deserves my attention more based simply on the fact that I have several fans who I know want it to be continued quickly. I would recommend you read it, if you haven't already. Anyone who's started to read that knows that I like to take my time developing my stories. Nulli Secundus means "second to none."
Chapter One
Argumentative Natures
"Must you always be so disagreeable?" Hermione Granger snapped, slamming her book closed with an aggravated sigh. Draco Malfoy, who was seated opposite her at a table in the library, leaned leisurely back in his chair, a smirk settled firmly on his face.
"Actually, I must." He drawled, mimicking Hermione's sigh and shooting her an amused glance. She glared at him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Prat." She growled, grabbing her things and shoving them into her bag. "Of all the people to be paired with, I get stuck with you!"
"Don't be so dramatic, Granger. At least I'm not Longbottom." Draco offered, but immediately quieted when Hermione whirled on him, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"I would certainly prefer it!" She hissed, pushing her chair away from the table. "Filthy son of a Death Eater." She muttered, kicking the chair back in place, shooting Draco a murderous glare and ignoring the disapproving looks from not only Madame Pince, but also several other students who were quietly studying. Draco watched Hermione go with narrowed eyes as she shoved the library doors open, throwing yet another venomous glare over her shoulder just before she disappeared out of sight behind the doors as they banged shut, earning yet another reproachful look from the librarian.
Draco turned his attention back to the book before him: Advanced Potions Year 7. His index finger traced the title, embossed in gold, on the dark green leather cover, while his eyes danced around the room. They settled on a girl three tables away. A rather pretty brunette sat with a book open and various writing materials in front of her, seemingly engrossed diligently in her work. Draco studied her trying to determine if they had met. She was certainly not a Slytherin, and considering how much effort he and his Housemates put in tormenting Gryffindors, he was nearly positive that she was not of their ranks. Then it hit him. Draco's nose wrinkled with disdain; she was a Hufflepuff. With a disappointed shake of his head, Draco turned his attention away, depositing his book into his bag and rose to his feet. Not bothering to push his chair back into place, Draco shouldered his bag and exited the library much more calmly than his Potion's partner had.
The halls were fairly empty, but that wasn't surprising. It was a warm, pleasant day outside and since class lessons were finished for the day, the majority of the students had fled the confines of the castle for the freedom of its grounds. Draco would not be among them. His feet led him, nearly soundlessly, to the Slytherin dungeons. The grim portrait that served for the entrance to the dungeons looked at him in a surly manner, the man's head resting in his lap and his eyes darting to Draco's face. "Nulli secundus." Draco said, almost pleasantly, and the portrait swung forward, allowing Draco entry.
Unlike the halls, the Slytherin common room was full of people. A small group was gathering around the crackling fire, enjoying its warmth as they sat in the couches and talked quietly. Another group was noisily playing cards across the room, and laughter rose from them raucously. Various others were scattered in twos and threes, or sat quietly alone doing homework. When Draco entered, several of his Housemates looked up, one or two nodding in his direction as greeting. Draco gave them a similar motion as response.
One girl in particular smiled at Draco when he entered, and Draco allowed himself a small smile in return as he moved past her towards the stairs that led to his dormitory room. A glance behind his shoulder told him that she was following him, so he paused, waiting for her.
"Pansy, I see you aren't making anyone cry today." Draco said, that small smile playing at his lips. Pansy Parkinson flashed him a brilliant one in return and laughed.
"The day is hardly over, and you haven't been in my company for its entirety. How do you know I haven't made some poor first or second year cry like an infant?" She chuckled, but then her expression turned slightly sour and she shot Draco a sympathetic look. "I heard you got paired with Hermione Granger for Potions." She said, as though the very idea left a very bad taste in her mouth.
"Spying on me?" Draco asked, one eyebrow quirked. He smirked at Pansy when she blushed, one hand rising to absently tug at the ends of her shoulder length black hair.
"Vincent must have told me." She mumbled quickly and Draco laughed softly.
"Considering I haven't spoken to Crabbe all day and he hasn't managed to increase his level of intelligence near enough to enter into Advanced Potions, I highly doubt that he did." Draco remarked. Pansy gave him a sheepish smile as they stopped in front of Draco's door.
"Terrible lie, you're right. Cynthia told me, actually." Pansy explained with a slight shrug of her shoulder and Draco blinked in surprise.
"Cynthia Prewett?" He inquired, frowning. When Pansy gave a small nod he made a dissatisfied noise and demanded, "Since when do you associate with Hufflepuffs?"
"Never." Pansy snapped, shooting him an irritated look. "She wasn't actually talking to me." She said and Draco nodded in understanding.
"Spying on me, see. Listening intently for any small bit of information that just happens to involve my name." His smirked increased as he turned the handle of the door, pushing it open and looking back at Pansy. Her face was red and wore a frown.
"Hardly." She scoffed, brushing past him and entering the room. Immediately she hoisted herself onto one of the four desks within the room and sat with her legs swinging, her feet a few inches above the ground. "You know that I always keep an ear open for anything involving anyone from our House. Today you just happened to come up." She said, but the blush on her face said otherwise. Draco shrugged and allowed his bag to drop to the floor. He sat on his bed and looked at Pansy for a moment before falling onto his back.
"In any case, I'm always amazed at how well you know the events of my life." He commented. When Pansy didn't reply he continued, "I am stuck with that ugly bint, though. It's terrible." He groaned. Pansy's eyes darted to him and lingered for several seconds before once more flitting around the room. They landed on an object lying on one of the other beds. Her head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowed and her body leaned forward.
"What's that? Is it what I think it is?" She asked, pointing towards it. Draco lifted himself, partially, on one arm, his eyes following the path of Pansy's finger.
"Ask Zabini." He replied, giving her a bored look and falling back onto the bed. "Gift from his mum."
Pansy removed herself from the desk, landing softly on the carpeted floor and made her way curiously towards the object. As she neared, she reached a hand out to touch it, but stopped just before her fingers grazed its surface. A frown settled on her face, an irritated frown, and she turned to Draco her other hand on her hip. "That's rather annoying, you know." She said.
"What is?" Draco asked, not bothering to lift his head to look at her.
"Crabbe. Zabini." Pansy mocked, nearly perfectly, in Draco's trademark drawl. She had even twisted her mouth slightly into an almost identical smirk. As quickly as it had settled, it disappeared though, as she wrinkled her nose at Draco. "You should call your friends by their names." She said, returning her attention to the object.
"Pansy, I call you by your name, and that should be good enough." Draco chuckled slightly. "Besides, I really don't think they care."
Pansy threw Draco another irritated glance just as her fingers closed around the object. What had once been a glass sphere, the size of a golf ball, flared to light in a brilliant display of colors that surged out from under Pansy's touch in swirling torrents of pale violet, deep rose and baby blue. "It's poor manners." She insisted. Draco shrugged, making a small noncommittal noise, earning him another glare for his insolence.
"It's poor manners to touch what doesn't belong to you." Draco pointed out, rising to a seated position and watching Pansy. She held the ball in her palms, cradling it and watching as it became clouded over in a deep burgundy until the entire sphere was one color but for small streaks of bright violet snaking its way across.
"Blaise won't mind. He likes me." Pansy countered with a sweet smile, not taking her eyes off the object.
"Don't be so sure, Parkinson." A cool voice spoke up from the doorway and Pansy's face reddened as she turned to find Blaise Zabini leaning casually against the door frame. The ball in her hands turned a dazzling shade of crimson before settling to a cloudy mix of amethyst and rose. Blaise watched her with skillfully guarded eyes, no emotion playing across his face to give her a hint of his mood.
"Blaise." Draco greeted, smirking at the still red faced Pansy. She quickly deposited the object back on Blaise's bed and stepped away, the color in the ball instantly disappearing the second her hand pulled away leaving it clear. The embarrassed look on her face faded gradually as she realized what Blaise had said only to be replaced by one of great annoyance.
"The both of you have the foulest manners I have ever seen. Honestly, if you two had siblings I bet you would never call them by name." She snapped, clearly irritated. Blaise smiled at her, shaking his head in amusement.
"Relax, Pansy." He said. "Go ahead and play with it, it was a gift from my mum. She'd be glad to know you enjoyed it." Blaise nodded towards the object and Pansy's face lit up in an excited smile. She nearly pounced on the object, curling her fingers around it, nearly hiding the fact that it was now a mess of pink and pine green.
"You'd think it was some sort of all powerful creation, and not just a glass ball charmed to change colors when you touch it. It's nothing more than a toy." Draco remarked, watching Pansy. She glared at him.
"It's much more than that. Haven't you ever read about these?" Pansy asked, glancing down at the small glass sphere she cradled in her hands, the green began to swirl with a dark maroon. "Empathspheres are constantly picking up the emotions of those around it. When a person holds it in their hands they are able to see their moods made reality with colors, but they also detect small traces of the moods of those around them and relay them to the mind of the person touching the ball. The colors are unique to each person who touches it, so no two people will have the same colors for moods. It's brilliant. They're extremely rare." Pansy explained and Draco nearly yawned.
"It sounds awfully boring. Why would your mother give you that?" Draco asked Blaise, and Blaise shrugged. Pansy glared at them both, the empathsphere turning a shocking tangerine yellow that seemed to bleed grey in thick cracks in the color.
"You're typical boys. Perhaps your mum thought it would help you understand your peers better?" She suggested testily. Draco frowned at her.
"Watch it Pansy, you're starting to sound a bit like Granger." He warned, which earned him a glare that was nearly as scathing as the ones Hermione sent his way.
"Do not make me hex you." Pansy threatened. Draco rolled his eyes, exchanging a quick look with Blaise who was trying to stifle a laugh.
"Really now, Pans, we all know you're terrible with hexes, and jinxes, and really any spell you try." Draco smirked condescendingly. He rose from his bed and covered the distance between he and Pansy quickly, his hand shooting out and grabbing the empathsphere from her hands. She frowned at him, but made no move to retrieve it. It was clear that she was not the dominant one in their hierarchy of friends. The empathsphere became a rich blue-green, bearing small cloud like spots of pine green. Draco stared at it for a moment.
"Careful, Draco, she is getting better with her curses at least." Blaise said, and Pansy nodded proudly. Draco glanced up, looking amused and the empathsphere became webbed with bright amber lines.
"Father says my execution of the Cruciatus is nearly perfect." She bragged and Draco laughed, rolling his eyes at her again, very dramatically.
"I perfected that at age twelve." He drawled and this time Blaise nodded, shooting Pansy a pitying look.
"Thirteen for me. A few years behind, aren't you?" He commented, and Pansy glared at both boys, her hands tightening into fists.
"Well we can't all be as touched by evil as the likes of you." She remarked with a sudden sly look on her face. "I'm merely a late bloomer. You'll see." She said cryptically before flouncing out of the room, leaving Draco and Blaise staring after her. Draco glanced down at the glass ball in his hands and gave it a puzzled look, though it had not changed colors once since he first touched it, save for the amber lines which had faded.
"Now why would Pansy be feeling incredible rage one moment and undeniable joy the next?" He asked, giving Blaise a confused look. With a shake of his head Draco said, "She's insane." Blaise nodded his agreement and Draco tossed the empathsphere lightly onto Blaise's bed where it stayed resting atop the blankets, once more completely devoid of color, simply a clear glass ball.
"That she is, my friend. But all women are. Don't you feel lucky to be the object of her affections?" Blaise laughed, closing the door with a simple flick of his wand. He removed his robe gracefully, draping it over the back of a chair at the desk nearest to his bed. Draco gave a small shrug of his shoulder in response, and Blaise grinned over his own shoulder as he searched for parchment in the desk drawers.
"She's become more appealing the past several years." Draco admitted, and Blaise nodded his agreement.
"Prettier, smarter, funnier, and more talented." Blaise commented to which Draco sighed heavily.
"Yes, all the more reason for my father to insist that I marry her." Draco pointed out and Blaise shrugged.
"You could be a lot worse off, Draco. At least you actually like her company and have some semblance of choice in the matter." Blaise responded, glancing at Draco meaningfully over his shoulder. "At least you're not betrothed to some French child who you're being forced to marry when she turns seventeen." Blaise groaned.
"I'm sure Genevieve will grow up nicely." Draco attempted to console, but Blaise glared at him.
"She's nine years old, mate. I'll be twenty-four by the time she's of legal age. Seven years, Draco, I have to wait seven years. What if I've already found someone by then, am forced to leave her and am utterly miserable?" Blaise sighed, opening a book and looking through it to start his homework. He paused, one page in mid turn and looked at Draco. "At least you have a choice." He said again, and the two lapsed into silence as Blaise began his work and Draco fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.