Author's Notes: First of all, I want to say, I'm SO sorry it took me this long to update. But I had a good reason, I swear! Anyways, to all my reviewers from Revelations- what can I say? I love you all, and you have no idea how happy you guys made me. : )

artificial-sprite : I'm so glad you did- it was my favorite part of the chapter to write. Thanks for reviewing!

cookies : Aww, thanks. : D I hope to keep it like that the rest of the way…though I don't know if I'll be able do it…I will try, though!

Dalia N' Shard : I'm obsessed with angst too- it's dangerous stuff…gets you all depressed and moody. But it's lovely. And thank you for adding Requiem to your favorites list! –hands Dalia N' Shard angst cookies-

Magiere : That is by far my biggest pet peeve in DC fanfiction- that they've been pining for each other since forever. –gags- Thanks very very much for the review!

blue7 : You're welcome for both the update and the cookies. : ) And thank YOU for the lovely long review. I'm sorry for the OOC-ness…I tried not to, I really did. –sighs- And showing you otherside!Draco was one of my biggest goals for the last chapter- I've very glad you picked up on that. I don't know that we'll see too much of Dumbledore, but you're guaranteed a long chapter when Draco almost kills him. And I did enjoy my trip, thanks. : D

Tainted-Dreamz : This isn't exactly soon…but it's as soon as I could. –blushes madly at the rest of review- You are too kind…thanks for the review and the add to Favorites. Cookies for you!

FSL : I'll assume you mean "angst". ; ) This chapter isn't either! Expect plenty of angst by Chapter Eight…thank you for the review.

AutumnKate : Yeah about HG…-coughgags- erm. They're really cliché, I think, and totally expected but they're not without their cute moments. Now…HC…was nice in post OotP fanfiction. But somehow DC became prominent in my shipping preferences- possibly when I realized that I had outgrown the style of HC fanfiction I used to read. And now it's DC all the way! And I WILL have lots of chapters to put up after this one…I promise. : D

finalfantasy : -squeals- I can't believe you thought my characterization was perfect!

–squeals again- I can't wait either. ; )

Travisty : Yes, I am a romantic- a closet one at that, but yes, I am a romantic, in the end. Like Mimi! Aww, you're sweet when you want to be. ;P

anonymous : I'd love to hear your suggestions! Thanks so much for the very sweet review.

Serena Goodkey : Here's a BIG apology for the off-grammar…but I only noticed it in one paragraph or so when I frantically reread it after your review. I'm really sorry though, and will be sure to reread much more carefully from now on. I'll try to keep the chapters just as long! This one is a little shorter, though. Thanks for the add to Favorites- cookies for you. : )

To all readers, some good news: To make absolutely sure that I will finish this fic, I've gone and written most of the last eight chapters. So…really, all I need to do is push through these next five chapters and it's smooth sailing from there. Requiem will be a total of FIFTEEN chapters- not counting the prologue. The first seven (not counting the prologue) take place during HBP. So bear with me. : D

Warning: This is not exactly a plot-twisty story, as you already know the essential plot of the first seven chapters, but things do change post-Hogwarts. I didn't intend for this to be a plot-twisty story, but for it to be a love story. Above all, this story is about love. And I personally think that it starts off really really slow, and I like it better towards the end but whatever. Anyways, Michael Corner and Marietta Edgecombe both appear, along with a host of Slytherins- sorry if they may seem a bit OOC- especially Michael. I don't know, he seems half-OOC half-right…so yes. Sorry for any character assassinations.

And now- I give you Chapter Two.


It's a cold, blustery night in the middle of October when he first sends her a message. When he's finished, he places the coin at the bottom of his trunk, and changes quickly into his pajamas so that when the other boys come up, he can pretend to be asleep already.

Drawing the dark green velvet curtains, he lays in bed, staring at the stone ceiling.

Habitually, he runs the plan for the next couple of days through his head. Rosmerta would receive the message tonight. Tomorrow, on her lunch break, she would pick up the opal necklace at Borgin's, and send a confirmation message. Come Saturday, she'd slip it to the first unaccompanied Hogwarts girl who walked through the bathroom door, Imperiusing her and telling her to give it to Dumbledore. If all went as planned, Dumbledore would be dead by Saturday night.

If all went as planned. The phrase gives him a nauseating sense of doubt. And if all didn't go as planned?

Nobody will know it was me. They'll think it was Rosmerta.

He turns over on his side at the realization of what he's trying to do hits him in the chest.

I'm planning to assassinate Dumbledore. Dumbledore, the man who they say is the Dark Lord's only real competition- besides Potter, of course.

It is an honor, of course, that the Dark Lord should ask him to accomplish such a feat.

A testament to the Dark Lord's hope for my potential. But inside, he realizes with sickening clarity what the situation really is. He realizes perhaps that he's known all along.

Oh, he's a genius, all right. It's a win-win situation for him. Draco Malfoy succeeds, Dumbledore is gone. Draco Malfoy doesn't succeed, and Draco Malfoy is gone. And he gets his revenge.

He turns again, not wanting to think of what would happen to him if he failed. But I've got some time. If the necklace doesn't work, then there's still half the year or so left. I've got time.

But inside he knows all too well that he doesn't have time, not at all.

He sleeps, eventually, but dreams of death.


"Cho?"

She doesn't glance up from her Muggle Studies textbook. "What?"

"There's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend," Michael says, with a trace of mischief in his voice.

"Is there now?" she absentmindedly asks, turning the page.

"Are you going?"

She looks up, an eyebrow raised. "'Course I am. Wouldn't want to miss a chance to get out of this hell-hole, would I?"

"Don't worry," he says, leaning back in his chair, "we've only got eight months left."

"Thank god." She looks back down again, trying to find her place.

He clears his throat. "About Hogsmeade, though. We'll make it a date then, shan't we, darling dearest?"

She laughs at his tone, noting Padma Patil's head shooting up, and says, teasingly, "Didn't I break up with you in July because I found out you were with that Hufflepuff girl?"

"No, you broke up with me in June because you found out I was with Viktor Krum, remember?"

She smacks her forehead. "Oh, of course, you two met at the World Cup ages ago, didn't you?"

He nods vehemently. "That we did."

"And how's that going?"

He lets out a dramatic, long-suffering sigh. "Long distance relationships are hard, you know."

"Yes, of course." She laughs again, watching Padma and Lisa twitter out of the corner of her eye.

He follows her gaze, and gives a slight smirk, lowering his voice. "Wonder what tale those two will have concocted out of our little conversation."

"Something about how you left Viktor, no doubt, because he was secretly married to the Bulgarian minister's daughter, and that you were getting with me to make him jealous."

"Again," he adds, "getting with you again."

"Oh yes. I quite forgot that we apparently got together after the last Quidditch match last year."

"Didn't last very long, did it?"

"We're obviously not compatible."

"Obviously. It's crazy though, the shit that gets around. All I did after the Quidditch match was talk to you and suddenly the next day, Anthony congratulates me on dumping Ginny and moving onto you." He shakes his head, smiling.

"Did you dump her?"

"She dumped me. Apparently I was sulking."

"You know, I think that's why I broke up with you too."

"It's my one flaw."

"What does dear Viktor think of it?"

"He likes it actually. He's a bit of a sulky bloke himself, you know."

"Do you actually know him?"

"No, he just looks incredibly sulky."

"I guess."

"Anyways, are you going with Marietta to Hogsmeade?"

"I don't know. We've been a bit rocky lately."

"Really?"

"For a while, actually. Ever since the whole D.A. fiasco, it hasn't been quite the same."

"Understandable. Well, then come to Hogsmeade with me," then catches the look on her face and says with a smile, "not on a date."

"Why not. Just as long as you don't bring Viktor," she says wickedly.

"No need to worry. He's got nothing on you, love."

"Really?"

"Trust me," Michael says, winking, and for the first time in a long time, she believes him.


"Draco," Pansy says, stopping on her way out of the common room, "you're not coming?"

"Can't. McGonagall gave me detention. I've got to go to her room in an hour."

"Well, do you want anything?"

"I'm fine, thanks." Draco's never been one to say more than he needs.

"Okay. See you when we get back."

"Bye." He sits for a few more minutes, staring at nothing in particular, then realizes he's wasting valuable time. Quickly, he exits the common room, going up to the Room of Requirement.

I need somewhere to hide my stuff…I need somewhere to hide my stuff. Almost immediately, a door appears. He looks both ways before entering, but he already knows the corridor will be deserted. There were advantages to working on a Hogsmeade weekend.

As he makes his way through piles of junk to where the cabinet lies, he wonders with a tight constriction in his chest if someone has taken the necklace yet.

He wonders if the plan will work. Thousands of what ifs float through his mind and dance around him, mocking him in their truth. He wonders if he is going insane.

Kneeling, he carefully opens the cabinet doors, peering into the total darkness within.


Meanwhile, Cho and Michael are walking along Hogsmeade's main street. It's a beautiful fall day, and the street is scattered with leaves in a wide array of reds, yellows, and browns. Students are milling about, ducking into Honeydukes, and coming out with shopping bags full of things from Zonko's.

"Shall we stop at the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer before we head over to Honeydukes and the rest?" he asks, proffering her his arm gamely.

She takes it, and nods, "A butterbeer would be lovely."

"Then after you, my good lady," he says, theatrically executing a short bow, and holding the door open for her.

She laughs. "Why thank you, noble sir," and enters, breathing in deep the smell of butterbeer and meads, and then after a quick survey of the room, she says, brow furrowed, "it's packed in here."

"There's a table in the far right corner. Let's go," Michael says, leading her through the crowded bar. Sweetly, he pulls out her chair for her. "A butterbeer for you, then?"

"Of course. But here," she hands him money, "for my butterbeer."

He sets it back on the table. "No, I insist. I invited you, after all."

She smiles, but firmly places the Galleons in his hand again. "Yes, but this isn't a date, remember?"

He glances at the money for a moment, then grins. "You've got me there. All right, I'll take your money, but I must say, Viktor never offers to pay."

"Shocking, that."

"Dreadful, really. I'll be right back."

She watches him, ordering the butterbeers, saying something to make Madame Rosmerta laugh, when she notices Marietta pushing her way towards the table.

"Hello," she says, smiling uncomfortably.

Marietta stares at her with cold brown eyes. "You're here with Michael, are you?"

She shifts slightly in her seat, then clears her throat. "Yeah, he's getting drinks. You want to join us?" She attempts to make her voice light and friendly, but fails rather dismally.

"No, I wouldn't want to interrupt your date," Marietta says, scathingly.

"It's not a date."

"Sure it isn't."

"It's not. We're just hanging out."

"Look, Cho, you don't have to tell me everything. But you could at least tell me who you're dating," she folds her arms, eyes blazing.

She stands too. "Why? Why do you even care? It's not like we're really friends, anymore, are we?"

"No, I guess we're not. I wonder whose fault that is."

"Don't start," Cho says warningly, and is irresistibly reminded of an argument with Harry last year.

"If you hadn't-"

"If I hadn't what? I know you didn't want me to date Harry."

"You weren't ready."

"You're right. I wasn't. But why did you tell, Marietta?"

"It was dangerous."

"Learning real Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"You're so full of shit, Cho. You only went because you liked Harry."

"Really? You don't think I was frightened, after what happened to Cedric?"

"I don't know. I don't know you anymore. I didn't know you last year."

"Yeah, you didn't."

The two girls glare at each other, each holding back a little, each wary of getting into a catfight in the middle of the Three Broomsticks.

"Uh, am I interrupting something?" Michael has appeared behind Marietta, butterbeers in hand. "Hi, Marietta."

She doesn't look at him, but looks down at her feet. "Hey."

And Cho is struck with a sudden realization. She curses her stupidity for not seeing it before. "Oh god. Marietta, we need to talk. Would you excuse us for a few minutes, Michael?"

He turns to go. "Of course."

"No, you stay here. We'll go to the bathroom. Be back in a few."

Michael sits down, taking a long sip of his butterbeer. "Take your time."

Cho nods towards the bathroom. "Come on."

Surprisingly, Marietta follows. Once safely inside, Cho turns to her, almost accusingly. "You like him."

She looks down at the tiled floor but says nothing.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I thought you liked him. You do, don't you?" she says quietly, wringing her hands.

"Not at all. And I know he doesn't like me. We're just friends."

Marietta finally dares to look up, with unmistakable hope in her eyes. "Really?"

"Yes, really." She smiles at her.

Marietta suddenly gives a little squeal, and impulsively presses Cho's hand. "I'm sorry."

She gives her a little smile, and presses her hand back. "No need to apologize. We were both ridiculous."

A stall door creaks open, and Katie Bell steps out, going to the sink.

"Oh hey, Katie, didn't know you were in here. How've you been?" Cho smiles warmly at the blonde girl.

Katie starts, as if in a trance. "Oh! Fine. Great." She distractedly washes her hands, then leaves without another word.

Marietta glances after her, and says what Cho is thinking, as she is apt to do. "Odd."

"Very. Well, let's go back, so I can practice my match-making skills on you and Michael." She nudges Marietta in the elbow, and both girls laugh, the sound echoing off the glazed white tiles.

It's the best she's felt in a long time.


Going up to the Slytherin dormitory after his detention, Draco curses, massaging his hand. Two-thousand lines of "I have nothing more important to do in my life than to do my Transfiguration homework" makes him feel as if he's lost most, if not all, the feeling in his right hand. He's itching to find out about the necklace, McGonagall having kept him for most of the day.

When he enters the common room, he notices immediately that something has happened. Students are clustered in groups, speaking lowly and with glints in their eyes.

He walks over to sit next to Pansy, who's whispering something to Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Millicent Bulstrode, and Daphne Greengrass. "I heard it was the Snapes' opal necklace- you know, the one that's been sitting in Borgin's forever."

Blaise laughs disdainfully, leaning back against the high backed chair. "The Snapes? Surely not- they've been destitute for most of their pitiful existence."

Theodore Nott shakes his head, his dark blue eyes serious. "No, they were quite a family two hundred or so years ago. It's only in the past century and a half that they've fallen on hard times."

"What, like your family, Nott?" Blaise asks, smirking. Daphne lets out a little giggle, but then sympathetically pats Theodore's knee.

"Blaise, you're too cruel sometimes, I really don't know how we put up with you," she says, with the air of a tremendous flirt, flicking her blonde hair back so it caught the firelight.

"And you're too slutty most times, but we still have to put up with you, don't we?" Blaise retorts icily, barely blinking.

Daphne stands in indignation. "Well, really." With another toss of her hair, she sweeps across the room, in the manner of a Veela.

"Thank god," Blaise says, watching her haughtily, "I was going to have to strangle her in a minute."

Draco, who hasn't trusted himself yet to speak, turns to Pansy. "What happened?"

"Oh, I forgot. You were in detention. Well, you know that Gryffindor Chaser…she's blonde, a seventh year?"

His mind races for a connection. "No, but I'll pretend I do."

"Well, apparently she was given a cursed necklace today in Hogsmeade. They had to take her to St. Mungo's, it was so bad," Pansy says, with the delight of a true gossip.

Shit. Oh shit. Something went wrong, Rosmerta didn't Imperius her…she didn't give the necklace to Dumbledore. He feels dizzy, but outwardly, he forces indifference. "Oh, is that all? God, and I thought it was something serious. Who did it?"

"No idea."

"Really…hmm, that's intriguing," he stands up, running a hand through his hair, "I'll see you all at dinner, I'm off to take a nap." He dazedly walks to the dorm, his head threatening to explode.

Once Draco is out of earshot, Blaise leans into the rest of the group, whispering conspiringly, "I bet it was Malfoy."

"Don't be absurd," Pansy snaps, a little sharper than she means to, "Draco wasn't in Hogsmeade today. And why would he want to do in Katie Bell, of all people?"

Blaise shrugs, his handsome face mysterious. "Maybe it wasn't meant for her."

"You don't think it has to do anything with the Dark Lord?" Pansy asks, suddenly anxious.

He shrugs again. "How I am supposed to know? Malfoy's been acting strange lately. Maybe he's on orders to… to kill someone. Or something."

Pansy stares at Blaise, then bursts out laughing. "Good one, Blaise…because Draco's really a killer, right?"

He meets her eyes with a look that makes her blood run cold, "We're all capable of killing. Even Draco."

Pansy says nothing, only stares into the flickering flames of the stone fireplace, and imagines she sees a terrifying fiery skull with a snake obscenely protruding from its mouth, grinning and grinning and grinning.


She corners him unexpectedly in a side corridor, that night after dinner. "What the hell did you do to Katie Bell?"

He frowns at her, folding his arms. "Who is Katie Bell and what have I done to her?"

Her dark brown eyes search his gray ones, looking for answers in their steel depths. There are none, none on the surface. "You tell me."

He scoffs, and looks away. "I don't even know who she is."

She won't give up that easily. "But you must know something," she persists, like a puppy. "it was obviously your lot that did it- a cursed opal necklace is a pure Death Eater tactic."

"I'm insulted. We have much better tactics than that. No one's used a cursed necklace since the eighteenth century."

"Sure they haven't."

"And anyway, don't you think that the Dark Lord has much more important things to care about than a stupid Gryffindork?"

"So you know she's in Gryffindor."

"Anybody stupid enough not to recognize a cursed necklace would be in Gryffindor," he says nastily, trying to cover up quickly, "and why do you even care, Chang? You two lovers or something?"

"Don't you wish we were." She arches an eyebrow, smirking slightly.

He smiles wickedly, raising both his eyebrows. "As a teenage boy, yes, yes, I do."

She makes noise in her throat. It sounds like something like exasperation.

He shrugs. "Shouldn't have asked if you didn't want to know."

"I didn't ask. It was a rhetorical question. Or statement. Whatever."

There's a little silence, and he watches her, noting how the flickering torchlight obscures half her face in shadow, and lets a thought accidentally slip out. "I don't know why you're so worked up. It's not like you're friends or anything."

Her head shoots up, her face no longer in shadow, but every inch thrown into sharp relief. "So you've been keeping track of my friends, have you?"

He doesn't miss a beat. "You know what they say- know thine enemy."

"Well, then I suppose you should know that Katie and I are friends. Not best friends or anything, but we've known each other for a long time. We used to play together, as kids."

"So? It's not like you're close now. Why do you care about what happens to her?"

"Because. We may not have talked in a really long time, but still. You care about people you care about."

He stares at her for a moment, then says quite bluntly, "You have a bad habit of making completely redundant and pointless statements."

"And you have a bad habit of being a bastard, but habits are hard to break, aren't they?" she asks, rather sweetly.

He smiles, unexpectedly, a gleam in his eyes. "Incredibly so. I suppose I'll always be a bastard and you'll always be redundant and pointless." Better a bastard than redundant and pointless…

"I suppose so."

He leans against the stonewall, then quietly asks, "Is she going to die?"

Cho looks up, wondering at his tone. "Katie?"

"Yeah."

She shakes her head, a little uncertainly. "No, I think they're got it under control, whatever it was." I hope they've got it under control.

He shifts, incredibly uncomfortable. "Well, uh, I guess that's good."

More silence. She watches him shrewdly. He doesn't look at her. Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, in a tone she means as curious but somehow sounds malicious to his ears, she asks, "You never had anyone you cared about die, have you?"

He responds the only way he knows how, sharply. "No, but don't worry, we all know you have. God, doesn't it make you sick?"

"What?"

"Looking at yourself." he sneers. "You've let his death define you, mark you. Change you."

She has to roll her eyes. "Yes, well, generally, when your significant other is randomly murdered, you are changed. But I wouldn't expect you to understand that, seeing as you are a murderer."

He feels an intense desire to say something nasty but what comes out instead is almost a blurted confession. "I've never killed anyone, you know."

"Sure you haven't."

"I'm serious. I've never killed anyone."

She shakes her head, not looking at him. "God, Malfoy, how stupid do you think I am? I'm studying to be an Auror, okay? I know the general initiation rites for Death Eaters."

He shoves his hands in his robe pockets. "Yeah, well, I haven't exactly gone through all of them yet."

"You have the tattoo," she points out. "That's usually the last part."

He shrugs. "So I'm going backwards."

"Ah, so You-Know-Who decided to give you a bit of a boost?"

"Hardly," he says, thinking grimly of Dumbledore, "in fact, I would say my initiation will be the hardest any Death Eater has ever had."

"I bet that's what they all say."

"No," he says, shaking his head, "trust me on this one."

She finds it incredibly ironic that this is comingfrom the last person she would ever trust. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"It's just a saying."

"Is it really just a saying? Not a real request or a plea. Or whatever."

"When I say it, it's just a saying."

"Maybe that's what's wrong with you."

"What?"

"That everything you say is just a saying. Just words. You're all words and sentences and sayings- and nothing has real meaning behind them."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snaps.

"Yes, you do. Nothing you ever say you really mean, or it means something else, or you say what you don't mean, you mean what you don't say."

"You don't even know me."

"No, not really, but I know words. And I know meaning."

"Sure you do."

"Trust me on this one."


Author's Note: -sighs- I didn't intend for Michael to show up at all. He kind of just barged in, and made me write him, if that makes sense. I know a lot of fanfiction has Michael being a jerk- but he must've been a nice guy if Ginny dated him. And yes, I really do think the whole Cho/Michael thing mentioned at the end of OotP is gossip. She's not stupid enough to get with someone right after the fiascos of Harry and Cedric. Anyways. Reviews are immensely appreciated- they make me keep going! ; ) Thanks so much for reading.