Author's Notes: So. Um. The last chapter had about…a whole bunch of typos because for some reason did not italicize half of the things I italicized…it was italicized when I uploaded it, I swear. I even went back and checked. These sentences were supposed to be italicized:
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. And if all didn't go as planned?
Nobody will know it was me. They'll think it was Rosmerta.
I'm planning to assassinate Dumbledore. Dumbledore, the man who they say is the Dark Lord's only real competition- besides Potter, of course.
A testament to the Dark Lord's hope for my potential.
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.
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.
I need somewhere to hide my stuff…I need somewhere to hide my stuff.
Shit. Oh shit. Something went wrong, Rosmerta didn't Imperius her…she didn't give the necklace to Dumbledore.
Better a bastard than redundant and pointless…
I hope they've got it under control.
I don't know what happened when it uploaded, so very big apologies for that. And so, let us move onto this chapter, which took eons and eons to write because it was being difficult ho. –smacks chapter- But it is here, for you wonderful wonderful people who review- you guys are the best. Ever. :D
Travisty: You, m'dear, tell it like it is- and therefore, you are a ridiculous amount of help. I attempted to remove the sap and changed "gorgeous" for you.
blue7: Your reviews make me so happy- just the fact that you leave a review is great, but it's usually long and thought-out…and just really nice. Thanks for taking the time, I appreciate it more than I can tell you. But yes. There shall be 15 chapters and they are chock full of DCness. :D
hi: Thanks! I'm really really trying to make them believable- I'm trying to keep Cho away from Mary Sueland and Draco from Gary Stuland, though he will stray into it sometimes…but yes, thank you very much. : )
artificial-sprite: If I have it my way, I'll work a DC argument into every chapter, save the last one, and maybe a few in the middle. They're definitely my favorite part to write- I'm glad you like reading them! Thanks for the reading.
Serena Goodkey: Thanks, I tried. Grammar for this chapter is mostly in order, I believe, possibly with the exception of a few sentences or phrases- the tense I'm writing in is a bit strange. I wanted you to think that Pansy cornered Draco- so yay! Thank you for the review.
AutumnKate: Aww, thank you. I've always thought that the bantering is such a key part of the DC relationship, so it means a lot that you think I do it well. : ) I try. And yes, the last chapters are written- mostly done, but they'll take a while to put up. I think the fic will finish around December or January.
alice-in-muggleland: -hides- I know, I know, I haven't posted on the ship…I'll do it after I upload this, promise. You think they're IC- yayyyy! –squees and waters Toirdy- Your review was lovely lovely lovely, and you're a sweetheart. Ooo and thanks for the add to Favorite Stories- a cookie jar for you. –hands cookie jar-
Warning: You'll remember some of these parts from HBP- any dialogue/plot taken from HBP is the property of JKR, as well as, you know, just about everything else. I don't bother putting up disclaimers for each chapter because I figure if you're reading fanfiction, you probably know that I don't own Harry Potter. The only reason I'm disclaimer-ing this chapter is because some of the dialogue is taken straight from HBP (the scene at Slughorn's party, and about ¾ of the Draco-Snape argument). And I'm sorry that most of the chapters are sort of character-exposition chapters, but I have to set it up before I get to any action. Speaking of action…this chapter is a milestone- in which a certain Slytherin and a certain Ravenclaw almost have a moment moment. Look for it, mmkay? Mmmkay. I'll stop now. Oooh, but wait. I swear a certain Muggle reference in the first part is NOT irrelevant, though it may seem so.
Leave a review and I'll bake you cupcakes. :D If you don't, thanks for reading anyways.
One cold night she remembers she needs to return Dumbledore's book. She stands, stretching, watching the snow fall outside.
"Where are you going?" Marietta asks, glancing up from her essay, shaking a red curl out of her eyes.
"I have to return a book to Professor Dumbledore," she says, digging in her bag for the book. I know I put it in here…
"The password's Acid Pops," Michael interrupts randomly, from the corner chair.
"How do you know?" she demands, still searching.
"Talked to him yesterday. Head boy, you know," he says, tilting his badge so it catches the firelight, smirking.
She rolls her eyes at Marietta. "How could I forget?" She fishes out the book amid the mess of parchment and quills. "I'll be back."
Cho takes the only way she knows, from the Great Hall, through the phoenix tapestry, finding herself once again in the stone room. The castle is eerily quiet. She shivers, involuntarily. "Acid Pops," she says to the gargoyle, hoping Michael is right.
The gargoyle leaps aside, and she goes up the stairs, not bothering to let it take her up, lest she be late for curfew. She is going knock, but hears strained voices inside and stops. She turns, about to go back down the stairs when she hears Snape's voice, tense and angry. And for a strange reason- she isn't an eavesdropper- his tone makes her stay.
"-must be another way."
Dumbledore replies, softly. She resists the urge to press her ear to the door. If only he'd speak louder…
"I can't. I'd rather die," Snape says, coldly and clearly. She's taken aback at the vehemence in his statement.
"-must live...too valuable to the Order." The Order? The Order…where've I heard that before?
"I'm too valuable? I'm too valuable? Dumbledore, you must be going mad…nothing without…" She can't remember when she's ever heard Snape this impassioned.
"Severus, please. I need you to do this." Do what?
"I can't. I'm sorry."
She hears a note of steel in Dumbledore's voice. "You must. Do you understand that? You must, to save yourself and to save…"
"Let us die," Snape spits back, "I can be replaced. He is of no importance."
She can hear Dumbledore sigh. "Severus, the Order cannot lose you and I do not want to lose-"
"Dumbledore," he says brusquely, but she detects a hint of desperation, "we cannot lose you."
"Severus, you'll be all right without me."
There is a lengthy silence.
"I don't believe you."
She hears a chair scrape back, and footsteps. The door flies open, and Cho stares, bewildered into the face of Snape. Without a word, he pushes past her, going down the stairs two at a time.
She turns to the open door, glancing in. Dumbledore is looking down at his desk, his fingers steepled. Not wanting to barge in, she quietly raps on the doorway, "Professor?"
He looks up, vaguely startled. "Oh, hello Miss Chang. Come in, come in. How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine. I just wanted to return your book." She holds up the book, trying to pretend she hadn't heard any of the conversation.
It takes him a moment to register this. "Ah, of course. Possession. Did you like it?"
She hands it to him carefully. "Very much. Thank you for letting me borrow it."
"Not at all, not at all." He smiles kindly. "Would you like another?"
"That would be lovely."
"Ah! I've got just the one." He bends down, pulling a slim tattered volume from the bottom shelf. "Here. Breakfast at Tiffany's. Truman Capote. My personal favorite."
She turns it over, thumbing the pages. "It's tiny."
"Tiny, but- ah, what is the saying? Oh yes- big things come in little packages." He smiles at her again, his blue eyes bright, and she is seized with a sudden dread- an odd feeling that she tries desperately to shake off. She attempts a smile.
"Well, thank you very much, Professor Dumbledore."
"It's a pleasure, Miss Chang- come for another once you've finished that one."
"I'll do that. Good night."
"Good night."
She finishes it that night and realizes that she's never read anything more beautiful in her life.
He tries to be as quiet as possible, sidling along the side of the corridor, cursing silently. It had only been in the afternoon when he sensed the possibility of a break-through. He'd tried to work through dinner, but eventually succumbed to the growling monster, intending to leave only for a quick bite, but was accosted by Pansy and Daphne and forced to make small talk for over an hour before he could get away.
It is now just after eight- there is a slight danger in lurking out after curfew, but Draco figures if he's caught, he'll be able to talk himself out of trouble, as always.
When he is just outside the Room of Requirement, to his horror he sees that Filch's cat is walking toward him, her eyes glinting oddly in the torchlight. "Shit. Shit," he whispers, remembering that where Mrs. Norris is, Filch will follow soon after. Sure enough, he hears footsteps rounding the corner. He entertains the idea of running into the Room of Requirement briefly, but then realizes he wouldn't be sure if Filch had gone and that it's too late- Filch has just turned the corner.
"What're you doing out after curfew?" He can hear the note of glee in the caretaker's voice.
"I-I…I have permission." He tries to inject the old Malfoy sureness into his voice again, but fails miserably.
Filch folds his arms. "Oh really. And from whom d'you have permission?"
"Professor Sn—uh, Slughorn," Draco says, remembering the party.
"You're invited to the little party?"
"Of course." There is it. The sureness, back for a moment, or two.
"Well, innit the other way?" Filch cocks his head, indicating the opposite direction.
"I got lost."
"Did you now?"
"Yeah. Uh, took a wrong turn, and was just trying to find it…" he says lamely, all too aware of how pathetic of a lie this is.
"Shall I escort you there?"
"No, actually, sir, I don't think that will be necessary. I'm just going to go back to my common room- extremely tired, and must pack, you kn-"
"No, Mr. Malfoy, I do think it'll be necessary, as Professor Slughorn gave me a list of students attendin' the party, and I don't recall your name being on it!"
Draco draws himself up majestically, concentrating on putting every inch of contempt and confidence in him into "Well, sir, you must be mistaken-"
"I am never mistaken."
"This time you are, Mr. Flich."
He twitches. "Filch."
"Yes, Mr. Filch, I was invited to the party and had every intention of attending, but as of now, I'm-" He is interrupted by Filch unceremoniously grabbing his ear.
"Lies, lies, lies! We'll soon see who is mistaken," Filch mutters, giving his ear a little shake.
"Mr. Filth, really."
"Filch."
"Yes, whatever. This could constitute as child abuse- why, if my father ever got word of this-"
"Your father, boy, is in Azkaban. Somehow, I doubt he can be of much assistance to you."
Draco opens his mouth, then shuts it, thinking better of it. He is silent the entire way up to Slughorn's. When dragged in, he can't help but wish the floor would open him up and swallow him whole.
"Professor Slughorn, I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"
He manages to pull away from Filch's grip. "All right, I wasn't invited! I was trying to gate-crash, happy?" He notices Potter grinning stupidly in his direction. He tries not to sneer.
Filch glares at him, his jowls quivering. "No, I'm not! You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headmaster say that nighttime prowling's out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"
Slughorn gives a little cough. "That's all right, Argus, that's all right. It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco," he says graciously, and it takes all of Draco's strength not to grimace.
He manages a sort of grim, but composed smile. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate this very much-"
Slughorn waves his porcine hand in the air. "It's nothing, nothing. I did know your grandfather, after all…"
"He always spoke very highly of you, sir. Said you were the best potions-maker he'd ever known." His grandfather, of course, had said Slughorn was a corpulent piece of lard, but Draco figures it's close enough.
Snape gives him a look, "I'd like a word with you, Draco."
"Oh now, Severus, it's Christmas, don't be too hard-"
"I'm his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard or otherwise, to be. Follow me, Draco," he says curtly, and Draco feels a sinking feeling in his stomach. Unhappily, he follows Snape to an empty classroom. When there, he leans against a desk, folding his arms.
"I've known you to be many things, Draco, but I never suspected careless."
"I wasn't careless," he replies sullenly.
"Wandering around after curfew is not careless? Someone is going to suspect something soon-"
He kicks at the floor, feeling a twisted pleasure in seeing his shoes scuff. "No one suspects anything, okay? No one knows."
"Oh really? Then why I have been questioned about YOUR specific involvement in the necklace affair?"
"How am I supposed to know?" Draco snaps. "I told you already, I didn't do it."
"You could've been expelled." Snape, being the bastard he is, lets the last word dangle in the silence.
I could've been expelled and I would've been punished. I get it, I know-"I didn't do it," he maintains, stubbornly.
"We cannot afford mistakes, Draco, because if you are expelled-"
"I didn't have anything to do with it, all right?" He is getting tired of repeating this lie.
"I hope you are telling the truth, because it was both clumsy and foolish. Already you are suspected of having a hand in it."
"Who suspects me? For the last time, I didn't do it, okay? That Bell girl must've had an enemy no one knows about- don't look at me like that!" He feels his mind opening, and he pushes him back with all his strength and it feels excellent, just wonderful. "I know what you're doing, I'm not stupid, but it won't work- I can stop you!" He can't mask the satisfaction.
Snape is silent for a moment, black eyes glinting. "Ah…Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?"
"I'm not trying to conceal anything from him, I just don't want you butting in!" It amazes him how Snape can so easily twist his actions. He knows he cannot have Snape as an enemy but he can't stop.
"So that is why you have been avoiding me this term? You feared my interference? You realize that, had anybody else failed to come to my office when I had told them repeatedly to be there, Draco-"
"So put me in detention! Report me to Dumbledore!" he sneers.
Another silence. "You know perfectly well that I do not wish to do either of those things."
"You'd better stop telling me to come to your office then!" The words break out of him and he's not even sure where they came from.
"Listen to me. I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco-"
"Looks like you'll have to break it, then, because I don't need your protection! It's my job, he gave it to me and I'm doing it, I've got a plan, and it's going to work, it's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would!" he says, defensively.
Snape appraises him. "What is your plan?"
"It's none of your business!"
"If you tell me what you are trying to do, I can assist you-"
"I've got all the assistance I need, thanks, I'm not alone!" He laughs dryly on the inside because he is alone, he's completely alone.
"You were certainly alone tonight, which was foolish in the extreme, wandering the corridors without lookouts or backup, these are elementary mistakes-"
"I would've had Crabbe and Goyle with me if you hadn't put them in detention!"
"Keep your voice down! If your friends Crabbe and Goyle intend to pass their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. this time around, they will need to work a little harder than they are doing at pres-"
Draco throws up his hands. "What does it matter? Defense Against the Dark Arts- it's all just a joke, isn't it, an act?" He meets Snape's eyes. "Like any of us need protecting against the Dark Arts-"
"It is an act that is crucial to success, Draco! Where do you think I would have been all there years, if I had not known how to act? Now listen to me! You are being incautious, wandering around at night, getting yourself caught, and if your are placing your reliance in assistants like Crabbe and Goyle-"
"They're not the only ones, I've got other people on my side, better people!" he lies.
"Then why not confide in me, and I can-"
"I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!"
Snape pauses for a moment. "You are speaking like a child," he says coldly. "I quite understand that your father's capture and imprisonment has upset you, but-"
Draco walks away because he cannot take it anymore and because he knows he can.
It is the official start of Christmas holidays and Draco is thanking every god he can think of for letting him find an empty compartment. He puts his trunk up, and slumps down on a seat, leaning his head against the window. He is lost in his thoughts and the white English countryside for a good half an hour before the door slides open. He glances up with apprehension, expecting it to be Pansy. It's her. He curses her.
"Oh, I'm-" The sorry drops to the floor, because she's really not sorry that she's interrupted Malfoy's little reverie. What she is sorry about is that the compartment is not empty, because she really wanted to have some time to herself. She is about to leave but then notices the look on his face and decides to stay and play Santa's little helper, spreading good cheer to all. "Well, don't you look miserable," she says, sitting down. "What, is You-Know-Who coming to Christmas dinner?"
"No, we're going caroling later, though."
She laughs.
"I'm serious."
"Are you now? I suppose his favorite song is…what, Jingle Bells?"
"The Little Drummer Boy, actually. He's got a thing for little boys."
"I didn't need to know that."
He almost smiles. "Anyway. Going to have a nice holiday?"
"I suppose. I love Christmas and all, but it kind of makes you wish you had a huge family you know?"
"You're an only child?"
"Yeah."
"Me too."
"So you know what I mean."
"I…guess."
"Come on, you can't be that anti-social."
"I am not anti-social. I have friends."
"We've been through this discussion before, haven't we?"
"Probably."
"So. Do you have a big Christmas party and invite all your Death Eater acquaintances or is it just a small family thing?
"You often make light of me being a Death Eater. Why?" he asks, bluntly, because he's been meaning to ask.
She's slightly taken aback, tricked into having to answer a truth. "I…I don't know." She stares at her hands. "Maybe that's how I deal with it."
"Okay." He doesn't quite know how to respond.
"I mean, what would you rather me do? I think if I actually treated it for what it is…well, I don't know."
"You couldn't talk to me."
"No, I couldn't. Why?"
"What why?"
"Why a Death Eater?"
"Why a Death Eater? My god, Chang, you're a Ravenclaw, surely you can figure it out."
"I don't know why everybody says that. I'm a Ravenclaw, therefore I must know everything, right?"
"Basically, yes."
"And you're a Slytherin, therefore you must be incredibly two-faced and cunning."
"Am I not?" He catches her eye and she doesn't pull away.
"I don't know you."
"You know enough."
"Nobody ever knows enough."
"A truer Ravenclaw statement I've never heard."
"That's what Ravenclaw is about. Not knowing everything, but trying desperately hard to find out."
"Well, surely you're able to figure out why I'm a Death Eater."
"No, I'm not. What's in it for you?"
"A lot."
"Okay. Let's see. Life insurance benefits. Not being disowned from the family. That's about it." She holds up her fingers.
"Do you think it's that simple?" he asks incredulously.
"I think everything is pretty simple, when it comes down to it."
"I've never heard anything so absurd in my life," he snarls.
"Really? What about the spiel your precious Master gives you, about blood and people and death? I would think that's far more absurd than stating everything's simpler than you think."
"You don't get it, Chang. You really don't get it. Nothing is simple in this world. Everything is complex. Everything is twisted. Everything ties you up. Everything is intricate- everything is gray."
"No. Killing people isn't gray," she says firmly, thinking of Cedric.
"It's red."
"We're color blind," she says to him, her eyes searching his, almost desperately, "We see in blacks, whites and grays. There is no red."
"There's always red. From the minute we begin to the minute we die, we are filled with red. Every day, the sun rises and sets blood red. Life is red."
"So killing is acceptable, then?"
He shrugs. "It's neither good nor bad nor in between. It's a part of life. Some people live and some people die and you can't please everyone."
"You're condoning murder."
"I am not condoning it. I'm saying it's a part of life."
"It doesn't have to be."
"Oh, doesn't it?"
"You have a choice. You've always had a choice," she says quietly.
"I've never had a choice," he hisses.
"You've had far too many and you've let them all pass by you," she says coldly. "If I didn't know better, I would almost say you want to be a Death Eater."
His head whips towards her, gray eyes flashing silver. "Don't you think I know that my career choice is bloody? Don't you think I know it's going to hurt? Don't you think I shudder at the thought of having to kill human beings? Don't you think I know all of this, Chang?" he snarls.
She folds her arms, the pupils of her eyes piercing him. "If you're so bothered by it, then why are you-"
"Do you really think I have any other choice?"
"Yes."
"Which just goes to show how much you know about anything," he retorts nastily.
"Why do you always have to push people away?"
"Why do you always have to ask questions?"
"Why can't you just answer the question?"
"Why can't you?"
"Oh, sod off," she says, suddenly tired of it.
"You're a hypocrite."
"Maybe, but so are you."
"I am n- okay, we're both hypocrites. Living in a world that thrives on hypocrisy."
"Aren't you cheerful?"
"I'm a Death Eater. It's in our charter to be cheerful."
"Of course." She shakes her head and looks at him with a gaze that adds something to his chest. "God, don't you ever get tired of it?"
"Of what?" he asks, not breaking eye contact.
She looks down, "Pretending. Don't you ever get tired of pretending?"
"Don't you?" he says, without missing a beat.
She doesn't answer, popping her hair band hard. It ricochets off of her wrist, coming back hard. "Ow."
"You shouldn't have pulled it back so far."
"I wanted to see how far it would stretch."
He meets her eyes again and the chasm between them closes a little. "I know the feeling."
"If you say so," she replies, imaging him flicking a hair band on his wrist.
"You never answered my question."
"You never answered mine."
"Maybe it because it was a dumb question."
Something in his tone makes her snap. "If it was so dumb, then why did you ask it? God, you're such a fucking parrot, aren't you? Does Malfoy want a cracker?"
He clenches his fist, feeling cold anger seeping through him. "That's a lie."
"Oh really? My father says-"
"Yeah well, at least I'm not still in mourning for Diggory. Don't you get it? He's dead. Never coming back. Ever. You're never going to see him again, he's never going to speak you ever again- he's not coming back. Ever. He is dead. Deceased. Decomposing. Rotting. Don't you get that? Don't you get that the whole school thinks you're pathetic?"
She feels something close in her throat, and bites her lip, blinking rapidly.
There is a moment of silence in which he stares at her. "You're going to cry," he says, slightly bewildered.
She stares out the window, keeping her eyes wide as they'll go. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You were actually going to cry." He can't ever remember making anyone cry in front of him.
"Yes, Malfoy, this might be a bit of a revelation to you, but human beings actually cry. Not that you would know."
"No, it's obviously a Good Side thing," he says, trying to lighten the mood, "Death Eaters can't cry. It's, uh, in our code of honor."
"That's ironic. Death Eaters having a code of honor."
"Well, I'm not really sure if they do, but there must be a rulebook somewhere."
"You should write it if there isn't one."
"I might just do that."
"You'll be the publishing phenomenon of the Wizarding World."
"Of course."
"You might have to get a ghost-writer, though."
"I'm insulted."
"No offense meant, but can you even write?"
He's speechless.
"Kidding. Just kidding."
"You're not very funny."
"I think I'm hilarious," she says, smiling.
"Hate to break it to you, but you're really not."
"And we'll super-impose a big photo of you on the cover, so the girls will buy it." She notices the look on his face. "What?"
"Nothing," he says quickly.
"What?"
"It's just- well. You think I'm attractive?"
"Malfoy. You may be a complete and total bastard and a Death Eater to boot, but let's face it- you've got a hell of an ass."
"Thank you."
"And you're quite pretty in the face too."
"Pretty?"
"Yes, pretty."
"Pretty?"
"Fine. Handsome."
"Much better." He preens, consciously.
"Oy, I should have brought my pin to deflate your head. I suppose it would've been useless anyway. You know you're good-looking."
"Yes, I do. But you know, so you do."
"I guess. I don't know."
"You don't see it?"
"Not the way they do. I see me. Behind the body, behind the face."
"So you don't think you're good-looking?"
"I don't think I'm as attractive as people tell me I am, if that doesn't sound completely conceited."
"You're lovely, you know that." He's a little surprised at his matter-of-factness, but she is lovely and Draco thinks she knows it. I know I'm attractive. All attractive people know they're attractive.
"Oh stop, you're making me blush."
"Not sure if it's physical though." This comes fairly out of nowhere and he silently curses himself for letting it slip out.
It's her turn to double take. "What?"
He sighs. "It's just- not to say that you aren't pretty. You've got a lovely…person. Face. Body. You know. But I think it's…" he becomes a coward here, and shrugs, "oh, I don't know. It's different."
She smiles, more out of nerves than anything. "I don't know what to say."
He looks at her and he knows that this could be a turning moment. "You don't always have to say anything."
She senses she could just lean in and he would kiss her and the world would spin off its axis. She comes dangerously close, but for yet another reason she can't articulate, she lets it alone, breaking the electricity. "Well, thank you."
He glances down at the floor. "You're welcome." He feels strangely drained.
There is a settling quiet that hurts both of their heads. Luckily, the train pulls into the station. "We're here," she says, gamely displaying her observation. They both stand, smiling stiffly at each other.
"So we are. Well-" he holds out his hand stiffly, having no idea what else to do.
She stares at it for a moment, then laughs and impulsively gives him a small light kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Malfoy."
He's not quite sure what to do, and it isn't until she's half way down the corridor that she hears, lowly but surely, "You too, Chang. You too."
Author's Notes: So…tell me what you think. Reviews are the best. –holds up cupcakes enticingly- Thank you for reading, review or not. : D