Indigo by C C
Summary: When loyalties clash and their hearts are torn apart, how will the students of Hogwarts ultimately choose? Read to discover what is hidden beneath all the masks, deceit, and lies, but, most of all, how strong friendship and, ultimately, love, truly is.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling
Chapter I "Begin Afresh"
The crisp autumn sunshine rang upon the vividly colored Hogwarts Express and folded back like newly ironed sheets to blind the motley gathering around it. Against the lively background of cool golden steel warmed by red metal and the black coal dusted rails stood a single white figure – a marble Galatea not yet awakened by her Pygmalion. Many who passed by that day on Platform 9 and ¾ would remember this pretty tableau when their world became overshadowed by a dark, persistent storm cloud and surrender a pensive sigh to the shrine of times gone.
"Harry! Harry!" A ball of red fire launched herself into the open arms of a certain brown-haired boy with a lightning shaped scar. "Oh Harry, I've missed you so!" Harry laughed as he straightened the frame of his glasses.
"I've missed you too, Ginny." As he leaned down for a kiss, someone coughed behind him. Harry and Ginny turned around, flushing, to see Harry's two best friends, Hermione Granger, a brilliant witch with bushy auburn hair, and Ronald Weasley, a slightly awkward looking wizard whose distinct freckles and flaming red hair immediately identified him as Ginny's brother, walked over, hand in hand.
"Oh Harry, I'm so glad to see you," greeted Hermione, smiling.
"It's good to see you, mate," saluted Ron.
"Same here." Harry grinned. He was finally back with his friends and leaving the Dursleys, his much detested aunt and uncle and their piggish son, Dudley. The three of them would be attending their final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after which they would become full-fledged wizards and witches. An unwelcome presence loomed as a boy with white-blond hair appeared before them.
"Why, why, isn't it the Golden Trio and Weasley's baby sister, fancy our meeting here?" he smirked. Harry glared into his icy blue-grey eyes.
"What d'you want, Malfoy?" he spat. Ever since the first day of school, there had been a bitter rivalry between the two of them, aggravated by Draco's incessant tormenting. Although age and maturity had taught them to become more civil, it did nothing to decrease the hatred.
Draco smirked again, "Just saying hi, Potter, no need to get all touchy," before stalking away with his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. Harry gritted his teeth.
"Gosh, sometimes I just wish I could beat the pulp out of him."
"Or hex him into oblivion," chuckled Ron, "but no need, look." He pointed at an aggravated Draco trying to get away from a clinging Pansy. The foursome laughed.
Blu stood there, unmindful of the curious gazes of those around her. Her long ebony hair was captured into two curly plaits by white silk ribbons matching her white knee-length, spaghetti-strapped sundress, white high-heeled sandals, and the white ribbon around her slender neck – all white. A slim, long-fingered hand disturbed her reverie.
"What're you thinking about?" a young man with pale hair and aristocratic features that would have been out of place with anyone but himself greeted her. Blu shook her head quickly.
"Nothing," she flushed, "Nothing whatsoever." The boy smirked and pointed at the brightly colored train.
"Well, if we don't hurry, the train is going to leave without us. Why don't we share a compartment?"
"Umm … sure." Blu followed him onto the train and into a spacious compartment somewhere near the end of the train and sat upon one of the leather-upholstered seats that were facing each other as her new acquaintance slid the glass door shut.
Hermione strode purposefully towards the Heads compartment ignoring the curious, appraising, approving, or envious glances thrown by those who noticed the glistening Head Girl badge pinned to her robes. A million questions ran a marathon through her mind – who could the Head Boy be? What would he be like? Would he be bookish or athletic or popular or talented? Is he uptight and reserved like Percy or likeable and easygoing like Bill? – all the way to the closed glass doors, she was unable to come up with a satisfying answer. With her hand pressed against the smooth glass, Hermione inhaled deeply and slid the door open.
Smiling slightly as he studied the girl before him, Draco sat on the leather chair opposite her seat.
"I've never seen you before," he finally spoke, shattering the nervous silence. The girl seemed to relax somewhat as she replied.
"This is my first year here." Draco thought he could detect the faintest hint of a grin at the corners of those sweet lips. He frowned.
"You don't look like a first year …" he murmured. Now, she was definitely smirking at him.
"I'm not, I'm a seventh year." Furrowing his brows, Draco fell into a brown study as he contemplated this new twist. "I used to attend Il Veneziano Scuola Di Magia, does that help?" Despite the teasing tone of voice, her manner combined it with such sweetness and archness that it was impossible to be angry. "Which reminds me," she added as an afterthought, "I don't even know your name yet!" Her laughter rang piercingly clear through the compartment. It was Draco's turn to smirk.
"Isn't it customary to introduce oneself first?" She pouted.
"I asked first!"
"So introduce yourself first." Draco just couldn't help teasing her a little longer.
"…" She didn't reply. He smirked.
"Fine. It's –" he began before he was interrupted by someone sliding the glass door open.
The glass door slid open with a soft "vhhhhrrrrrrr" and Hermione peeked inside and gasped at what she saw – Draco Malfoy sitting there chatting with a girl as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"If it isn't Granger?" he sneered, "and isn't that the Head Girl badge pinned to her robes? What did you do, recite A History of Hogwarts?" Hermione scowled.
"Fuck off Malfoy, I still remember what a nice ferret you made." Draco's ears turned the palest shade of pink as his eyes glinted maliciously.
"You're one to talk, Granger, with Weasley as your boyfriend."
"Ron is ten times the man you are!"
"Really? If so, tell me what happened when –" Draco retorted before the girl interposed. Walking forward, she held out her hand for Hermione to take with a mischievous half-grin.
"You just came in when this young man was going to introduce himself to me," she greeted, "My name is Blu, Blu Nero, and I have the pleasure of making the acquaintance of …?" she smiled sweetly at Hermione and glared meaningfully at Draco. He smiled.
"As I was saying before Granger rudely interrupted us ("It's my compartment too!" protested Hermione), my name is Draco, family name – Malfoy" Blu looked slightly pensive.
"Draco Malfoy, Dragon with Faith, I like that," she murmured softly, "and you are?" this was addressed to Hermione.
"Hermione Granger, and before Malfoy can tell you," she glowered defiantly at Draco who just smirked, "I am a Mudblood."
"Well," Blu bit her lips, "I don't see anything wrong with that, I consider Muggle books and music infinitely superior to that of wizards." Seeing Draco's shocked expression she augmented, "although, personally, I'm pureblood, happy Mr. Malfoy?" she then smiled sardonically at Draco's scandalized expression. Hermione also laughed at Draco's discomfiture even as her eyes lit up excitedly.
"So, what authors do you like best?" she inquired of Blu, ever the bookworm. Blu tugged at her curls distractedly.
"Well … I liked Chinese Cinderella and Falling Leaves by Adeline Yen Mah …" she trailed off. Hermione immediately prompted her,
"Any classical writers? Dickens? Hemmingway? Steinbeck?" Blu frowned.
"I read a few of their novels in private school like The Grapes of Wrath, Farewell to Arms, and David Copperfield, but I can't really say I truly enjoyed any of them … well maybe A Christmas Carol by Dickens and A Tale of Two Cities, especially the final lines …" she wavered, "well I do like Jane Austen's novels, Pride and Prejudice is my all-time favorite, Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace and Anna Karenina, and," her eyes glittered maliciously, "Dante's famous description of the various torture methods utilized in Hell – Inferno."
"Ooh, really? Christmas Carol is my favorite 'cause I like the theme, but I remember the last lines of Tale of Two Cities only too well – "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done
Blu joined in.
"It is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known," they ended and dissolved into laughter. Draco groaned and wondered how he became stuck with two giggly girls, though Blu was unusually pretty. Attempting to squeeze himself back into the conversation, he asked Blu about her family. Hermione immediately became silent and watched Blu attentively.
"Well … even I don't know all that much about my family. Let's see, I don't have any siblings so it's just me and my parents. They're what you can call Muggle-lovers, I guess, since they chose to live in the Muggle world. Hmm, they're away a lot on unspeakable business or something of that sort and I was sent to a Muggle private school until they found out about my acceptance into Il Veneziano Scuola Di Magia. And now I'm here – they seem to think it's safer with Dumbledore what with the upcoming war and Death Eaters running riot over England. Not much else to say … what about you two?" she told them thoughtfully. Hermione responded by saying that her parents were Muggle dentists and Draco launched into a full-scale narrative of the glorious history of the Malfoys, which was (thankfully) interrupted by the lunch cart. Blu bought some sponge cake with sweet fluffy cream, which gave her a miniature white mustache when she licked the icing. Grinning, she grabbed a plastic fork and dug into it, telling Draco and Hermione apologetically that she had an incurable sweet tooth. In that way, the entire train ride passed away tranquilly as the threesome chatted about their lives, the past, and the future with Blu bridging the gaps between the sworn enemies. And, with a wave of his hand, the ghost of the (Christmas) past dissolved the scene into another …
