Yup. They actually know that they like each other. *win!*

Aryt, time for some cuteness!

I hope.

I'm not saying this in the further chapters anymore.

I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER AND DO NOT MAKE CLAIM TO HARRY POTTER.

There, I said it.

To the chapter and beyond! :D


Weeks passed since that fateful day when Felix had half-killed Blaise and revealed her affection for Draco Malfoy, and those weeks passed with occasional excitement. Blaise had gotten Sophia Selene "Sophie" Seymour's attention, and she got his, so they now had the occasional Blaise-Sophie moments where the pair would be staring at one another.

Sometimes, the boys (Blaise, Draco, & Cameron) would come up with some prank to play on some unsuspecting Hufflepuff first years, and the prank would go smoothly; with Sophie, Felix, and Ivy laughing boisterously in the end.

Yeah sure, Felix and Draco would have their moments; sometimes she'd find a single white rose at her table in class, and she'd know immediately that Draco wanted to meet with her; And no, they wouldn't shag every time a white rose appeared; and of course, the notes. They passed notes in History class, and they never got caught. They took Muggle Studies, for some reason, and today was no different. They didn't completely listen, but they managed to pass it.

Did I mention that only Ivy knew about the two of them?

"We will be playing a muggle game today, students," began Professor Covington, a middle-aged woman with a raspy voice and bifocals. Felix rested her chin on her palm, bored already by the beginning of the speech. Covington continued droning on about some sport they called "Basketball".

If her hair was any longer, she'd be twirling it just for the sake of doing something other than listen. She followed Professor Covington with her eyes, just to seem like she was actually interested.

They were having class with the Ravenclaws today, and from her seat she could see Luna and Madi, taking notes dutifully like a true Ravenclaw nerd.

One of the muggle-loving people wearing blue raised his hand. "Professor Covington, if we're going to play basketball, we'll have to identify ourselves somehow. And since you said it wouldn't be according to house, how will we possibly know who our opponents are?"

The other nerds buzzed with thought, already discussing the matter. Madi raised a tanned hand. "Yes, Miss Hart?" Covington scrutinized the petite girl over the top of her glasses, making her look a little like Professor McGonagall.

"We'll use the same methods applied to football, Professor; shirts or skins," said Madi smartly, her nerd-mates grinning and clapping.

Felix scowled at the mention of shirts or skins. She certainly did not want to show the world her bra was black that morning. Draco sat beside her, smirking.

"What? You don't like stripping off?" he whispered, and she could swear she could hear his smirk. "I'd rather not, if you don't mind," she replied, still in the whisper. He shrugged.

"Ah yes, thank you, Miss Hart. Madison, am I right? 10 points to Ravenclaw," Covington clapped her hands together. "We shall play this game here, students. And I suggest dividing into two sides. Allow me," she waved her wand and the seats disappeared, leaving a board for scores, and a ring with a net. Covington got an orange ball, and held it to her side as she placed a whistle around her neck.

Draco was on the opposing team with the rest of the Slytherin males and Felix was on the other, startled by the fact that she was the tallest among them all.

"Before we start, I applaud you girls for having the sense to know that shirts or skins would not be good for you. Alright, back to the game. Skins, shirts and robes off, while shirts, take the robes off."

Felix shrugged out of her robe, and placed it near the window. The boys unbuttoned their shirts, and set them aside along with their robes. Crabbe and Goyle were disgusting, Blaise acceptable, and Draco…

He was worthy to be the statue of David just then.

He caught her staring and winked. She blinked, sneered, and mouthed out, "I'm so going to win."

"Not a chance," he mouthed back. She put her game face on, and Professor Covington blew her whistle shortly. "Students, I need six players on each side. And I need the tallest among each team to er, spike the ball."

Felix was pushed forth by the shirts side, and came face to face with Draco. He sneered, as if thinking he would win.

Covington raised the ball above her head, and blew her whistle. Draco was taller than her still, and successfully spiked the ball to her side. Her teammates ran around, passing the ball, putting it through the ring, and running around, stealing the ball from the shirtless players.

She ran around as well, and when she was passed the ball, she passed it to someone else. She put it through five times, and at one point, she was at a certain line, where someone said was worth three points if she "made a shot" there.

"C'MON, FELIX!" Ivy bellowed, her voice becoming croaky. She made quick aim at the ring.

Please, please, let me have the shot.

She released the ball, and once she saw that it had passed, the person who was guarding her tackled her, landing entirely on top of her.

Only then did she notice that her guard was Draco Malfoy.

"Get the fuck off me!" she put an arm out to distance them. "What if I don't want to?" he sneered. She wriggled out, and only to realize the game was over.

Shirts had won, and everyone seemed to think it was because of Felix.

Of course, the Slytherin in her took over, thanking everyone graciously while smirking. She slipped on her robes while she was flooded by her Slytherin housemates' congratulations. Luna and Madi did the same, giving her a friendly hug.

Someone tapped her shoulder, making her jump half out of her skirt. She turned, breathed a sigh of relief, and smacked the blond hard in the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" He asked, rubbing the spot where her hand made contact with his arm. "For sneaking up on me and making me jump half out of my skirt, that's why," she snapped, adjusting her robe. "Well, if that's what it takes," he whispered suggestively in her ear. She scowled. "You are a sex-crazed maniac who does not enjoy any activity that resembles chastity."

He stepped back in mock shock. "Why Felicia, that's a terrible thing to suggest." Her eyes narrowed. "Does it hurt your dark soul to hear the real, un-sugar coated truth of your identity?"

"My soul is not that dark, thank you very much, I just enjoy hearing the letters S-E-X spill out of your socially cultured little mouth," he sneered, following her out the door. "That's lovely, Draco, just lovely, little starlet," she teased, bringing up the old insult she used in past years.

He scowled. "Mother named me for a dragon, Felicia, and you?" She flinched. "She named me for the state of happiness. Felicity. She just didn't like Felicity for me." He dropped the scowl. "So little dragon, then?" she added with a smirk.

More scowling. Point one, Felix De Ford!

"Hilarious. What comic gold can you come up with now, Felix? A joke, perhaps? A trick? Or better yet, a practical joke that involves Harry Potter and a firecracker?"

She raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Erm, no, I don't come up with comic gold very often. That wasn't even funny, dragon trainer—fine, if you really want, dragon slayer."

He smirked. "There, that's my girl." She scowled, pulled him into a corner in the hallway, and made sure no one was looking. "I told you, keep it down. I do not want my very rough exterior to crumble at your manicured hands!" He lifted her hand up to his eyes and said, "Actually your manicured hands."

She put her hand down sharply. "I swear, I don't see what you see in me," she said while they exited the corner on the way to Potions.

They arrived in the dungeons, him taking a seat beside her. Snape appeared, billowing robes, greasy hair and all. "Today you will be making…" Felix didn't bother listening.

Ivy, you're so dead for even grooming my fingernails.

Draco nudged her, which made her glare at him for breaking her reverie of her hate-list. "What? What do you want?" He passed her the notes about something called a Truth-Action potion; in the same right-slanted script she so loved seeing on a note.

"Get the ingredients, slayer, chop chop," she said, passing the parchment back to him. He twitched, but nonetheless went to gather the ingredients. She reread the instructions in her book, making a few recopied notes from what Draco had passed her. He came back with some things, and she divided them clearly in two.

"Cut, stir it counterclockwise, and then keep stirring until it turns cornflower blue," she sliced the Wormwood, diced it, then dropped it into the cauldron. "Like so."

He scowled, doing the same, only faster and with the accuracy of a surgeon. "As you can see, Felicia, I know perfectly well how to dice Wormwood and throw it into a cauldron."

"I can see that perfectly, Draco. You know what I'd love to see?" she asked mock-brightly, throwing some Amistad Powder in. "Me completely naked and all yours for the taking?" he replied sarcastically, throwing some Belladonna into the cauldron. "Not really. Actually you not talking and actually brewing this potion," she stirred the liquid counterclockwise, and kept stirring until her hand got tired.

"Alright, your turn to stir," she gave the wooden spoon to him, and he peered over the cauldron's edge, like he was waiting for something to pop out.

"Boo!" she said, and as she expected, he jumped a little. "Now you do that. What did I ever do to you, Felix?" he asked, still stirring, but looking at her. "Three things: one is calling me Felicia, two is showing off your Wormwood-cutting skills, and three is for not looking at the cauldron! It's cornflower blue already!"

His head snapped back to the cauldron, hastily pulling the spoon out of the potion and getting a vial and bottling it up. "They kind of look like your eyes."

She rolled the said eyes and pushed him to the front desk. "Submit that. Before it gets all cold and jelly-ish."

He grunted, not liking being ordered around by her. He didn't move.

Umm, okay, what do I do now? Quick! Pout or something and use your feminine wiles to manipulate him!

Brain, which porno show did you get that from?

She blinked, stuck out her bottom lip, and feigned innocence in her eyes.

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're trying the whole wilting-flower trick? I don't crumble to that. I'm surprised you even tried. You of all people know that the only trick I truly succumb to is—"

"I'd rather not know your seduction tactics, Draco. What I do want is for you to just get your silver-wanded arse to the teacher's desk with a vial of that potion."

"All you had to do was ask, Felicia dear."

She rolled her eyes at the 'dear' part. He submitted the vial, reported that they'd both gotten an O for that, and that it was cute when she said "silver-wanded arse".

I want to slash my wrists so bad right now.

She gathered her things up, hastily throwing everything in her book bag just to clear out. Once she'd finally gotten everything she owned into her bag, she left the dungeon for Care of Magical Creatures class.

Why am I taking this class in the first place?

She was beside Crabbe, who winked at her in such a way that she wanted to throw up.

Oh right, they don't know either. Silly me, of course the goons aren't supposed to know!

"Taken, Crabbe, and not interested," she said coolly. The goon frowned and tried to listen to the lesson. Happy that she had her own triumph, she smirked.

"Today yer gonna take car' of…"

Honestly. I don't understand your accent at all. Talk normally, please! For the sake of the children!

"Telkettle Hellhounds."

Thank you! Wait, what? Did you say Hellhounds? Aren't they does evil things that kill you when you're bound to hell or something?

"Telkettle Hellhounds," he pulled out an ebony-colored puppy with bright orange eyes from a crate. Several girls said "Aww!" while Felix scoffed. That's a Hellhound? You've got to be joking.

"Now this ain't fully grown yet. It's a puppy, but ye have t' watch ou' for t' movemen's."

Seriously. Your accent is bothering me. I barely caught the last part.

She frowned as some airheaded Gryffindors (Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown) picked some puppies up and started cuddling them.

"Ouch! Professor, it bit me!" Lavender whined. I swear, you're worse than him. The whiny voice is SO Pansy.

"It did? Patil, take her t' th' infirmary. Hellhound bites ain't serious, unless ye've got somethin' t' send ye t' hell."

Felix sneered. I should get Pansy a Hellhound. She'll love it.

Someone slung his arm around her shoulder. She shrugged it off. "I swear, if that's Crabbe or Goyle, I'm going to curse both your dicks off."

"Relax, hothead, it's just me," whispered Draco silkily in her ear. She rolled her eyes. "Is there something a matter, for I am graced with your presence?" she replied sarcastically. "Actually, yes. Check your robe pocket after class. There's a cream-colored envelope there with your name on it. Read it first, before actually reacting," he said, tucking a strand of hair away from her eyes. "If it's a condom in there, you're getting it back," she snapped, putting the hair back in her eyes. "But of course," he winked.

After class, she checked her pocket, and found a cream-colored envelope, just like he said, with her name on it. Strangely enough, it was her first and last name, accompanied with a "miss" and in graceful calligraphy.

She read the cream-colored card inside, not really believing her eyes.

Dear Miss De Ford,

As per request, you are invited to spend Christmas with the Malfoys as an official guest of Master Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoys. You are expected to arrive at the Manor on December 21 and to leave on December 26. We hope you accept our invitation. Thank you.

Sincerely yours,

Narcissa B. Malfoy

"Nice. At least I won't see Mother and her annual 'dress dilemma' this year," Felix smiled. Draco popped up beside her. "So? Are you going?" She reread the note written by Narcissa Malfoy, apparently Draco's mother. "Why not? I mean, what do you expect me to do for Christmas while my mother goes husband-hunting?" she replied, tucking the card back into the envelope. "Great. See you on the twenty-first, then."

--The Train for Winter Break--

Felix watched the landscape, all enrobed in the cold white matter that they called snow, pass the train by as she tried to ignore the fact that Sophie, Elle (formerly Amelielle), Renee, and Ivy were babbling on about their romantic lives.

The air was filled with the words "love" "great" "kisser" "sweet" and "perfect". This was the air that suffocated her. She and Draco were still a secret (save for Ivy) and she couldn't speak about both of them because she would risk divulging the great secret that was them. The only thing stopping her from going to Draco's compartment and having a searing snog was the kiss he gave her before they left.

When they finally reached Platform 9 ¾, the love talk ceased, and the Christmas gift talk began. Felix, clad in her black skinny jeans, Jack Purcell muggle sneakers, and black t-shirt beneath a black coat, felt that she needed to look a bit nicer, since she was informed that her father was the one going to fetch her.

Wait a second, what am I getting Draco? Crisis situation! Mother! I need your expertise in this! HELP ME!!!

She alighted the train, looking around for the overly tall brunette man in expensive Italian robes. She found him, still as tall as he was, actually happy to see her.

"Felicia," he leant down to kiss both her cheeks. This treatment was unusual, since all he wanted was an heir, not an heiress. "Bonjour, Papa," she replied coolly. He went back to his towering over her and smiled. "You've grown, Felicia. Shall we go?" her father offered his hand, something she could actually reach. "Oui, Papa," she replied, still very measured and respectful toward the tall De Ford patriarch.

They were about to leave when a pale man with long platinum blond hair called her father. Her father smiled kindly at the man, who was accompanied by a younger man, with the same blond hair but shorter in length.

"Xavier, thank you for the invitation," began the man. "We simply cannot wait. We wish you a good trip. Ah, may I present my son, Draco?"

Oh! Draco's dad! Umm, what was his name again?

"A pleasure to meet you, Draco," her father replied in his smooth baritone voice. "Lucius, this is my daughter Felicia."

There! Lucius! No wonder they named him Draco.

"Lovely. She looks so much like Fern," Lucius said curtly. "Well, we must really be on our way now, Lucius. It was nice seeing you again," her father closed the exchange before any rebuttal could be made. "Same to you, Xavier."

The Malfoys turned to leave and her father took her through the barrier. "Father, if I may, to what have you invited the Malfoy family?" she asked politely as they drove away in the limousine. "Your mother and I are going with Ferdinand to Greece. We'll be spending our Christmas there, and we'll be back on New Year's Eve. But before we leave, we're throwing a going-away party, as requested by your mother, on Friday, and then we'll leave. We won't leave you alone, don't worry. Your cousin, Fabiana, will be with you. And if you have a previous engagement, Fabiana will watch the estate for you."

She pulled the invitation from Narcissa Malfoy and handed it to her father. "You see, Father, Draco and I are great friends, and he wishes me to spend Christmas at the Malfoy Manor. Do I have your permission, Father?"

Xavier scanned the note. "If you wish it, Felicia. The Malfoys are friends of ours, and I do not see any reason why you should turn down such an invitation."

She wanted to hug her father, but such forward expression of affection wasn't something her father liked, from what Xeno told her.

"Felicia, you are my only daughter. I don't see why you call me 'Father' like Ferdinand, and you rarely express any of your complaints and emotions to me. I am your father. I enjoy hearing your emotions, and the endearments most fathers receive from their daughters."

"I-I'm sorry, Father. I just thought I would anger you by calling you such uncivilized names."

"You will if you say these things in public. In private, feel welcome to call me 'Daddy'."

Xavier smiled warmly. It lit up the limousine, and you could see from where Xeno got his dazzling grin. "Thank you, Daddy."

They arrived in Wiltshire, and the driver delivered both De Fords to the doorstep. Her father exited first, holding the door for his daughter. "Merci, Papa." He smiled warmly again as he put his key in the lock.

"Fern, love, we're home!" his voice echoed around the mansion (maybe the whole estate) and sure enough, Fern appeared in her silk dress. "Xavier," she kissed her husband swiftly on the lips. He said something about being in the study, and she nodded. "Bonjour, ma petite. Felicia, have you grown again? Taller and taller you become, the less options for boyfriends you'll have!" Her mother pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "Nice to see you too, Mother," she murmured weakly.

"I don't see why you keep wearing black, Felicia, it makes you look like some sort of mortician," her mother took her coat and hung it on the rack, scrutinizing the all-black ensemble. "I happen to like the color black, Mother, and I intend to dress in whatever color I please," she replied a little too frigidly. "As you wish, Felicia," her mother got herself a cup of tea from the house-elf.

"Mother, what day is it today?" she asked, still curious about that going-away party. "Thursday, chéri," her mother took a sip. "So the going away party is tomorrow, Maman?" Her mother nodded.

She padded her way up the winding staircase to the third floor, where her room was. They had a parlor and a library on each floor, so they would not have to go up and down the staircase for a certain room. The third floor was usually where Felicia entertained, in the parlor, where her father kept all the scotch, whiskey, and vodka, away from her mother's eyes.

The whole house was based on black, white, and silver. They had white walls and flooring, black carpets and furniture, and silver ornaments. They had a grand silver chandelier hanging in the ballroom on the ground floor, a silver chandelier in her parent's room, and a silver chandelier in her room, thankfully.

She entered her room, and it seemed like her mother redecorated: her bed now had a white canopy, the dreadful embroidered walls were painted black and white (in some sort of Victorian pattern), her dresser was neater and shinier, the writing desk scratch-free and polished, the wardrobe seemingly shinier, her silver chandelier emitting a softer glow. Her window now had lace curtains on them, and her bedside table now had the family portrait in smaller scale in a frame.

Her trunk was in a corner near the bathroom, neglected in the face of all the neoteric beauty. She walked over to it (the room was vast) and examined the initials on the side. FDF. Sadly enough, FDF could mean Fern De Ford, or Felicia De Ford. She popped the trunk, her things carefully pushed into the wooden thing. She organized the books and quills and other school-related things and pushed them to one side, reserving the space for other important things, like her dress at the costume masquerade and everything she used to accompany it.

Felix opened her wardrobe, looking for something to wear. She decided on a plain black t-shirt and black Bermuda shorts. Her slippers were in the corner beside her trunk, so she slipped those on. Decked in her black house clothes, she plopped down on her bed and drifted off in exhaustion.

Fern entered her daughter's room, and upon seeing her asleep, she closed the door. Felicia needed the sleep, and it was her only luxury after a trip.

"Sleep well, my little cloud."


Yes, her mother calls her a little cloud.

R&R sil vous plait.