Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Potter-verse.

Chapter Fourteen

Late that night after curfew, Draco was sitting on the edge of his bed staring into a handheld mirror.

"What are you lookin' at, Malfoy?" asked Goyle.

"Nobody," said Draco, who started and hastily put the mirror under his pillow.

Gregory raised an incredulous eyebrow and Draco started again.

"Who taught you to do that?" Draco asked.

"Luna," said Gregory with a simple shrug as he reached for his pajamas.

"Her," sneered Draco, "I've been trying to teach you how to raise your eyebrow for years! What's so great about her anyways?"

"Well," said Gregory tapping a thoughtful finger against his lower lip, "it could be that she doesn't treat people as if they're absolutely un-brilliant because they happen to need to lose a few stone."

"Is that all?" scoffed Draco. "Heck, I don't care if you're a lard bucket, Goyle."

"That's Lord Goyle to you," snapped Gregory. "You know I inherited when my father died in a raid last year."

"Well excuse me, Lord Goyle," said Draco with a roll of his eyes. "I don't suppose you know where Crabbe is at this late hour?"
"He's mourning his fate in the astronomy tower after Zabini stole his girl," huffed Gregory.

"Boo hoo," sneered Draco. "Who would cry over that loony bin anyway?"

"Hello boys!" Zabini sang out from the doorway. He strode into the room and sat down hard on his bed before tugging off his expensive, dragon-hide boots, oblivious to the disgusted look Draco was giving him as well as the more quietly hateful one Gregory was sending his way. Draco suddenly grabbed his own pillow and tossed it at Zabini's head. Zabini merely swatted it away and continued to tug at his laces.

"I thought you hated Lovegood," said Draco.

"I do," said Blaise, tossing his boots at the end of his bed.

"Then why did you ask her to be your girl?" demanded Gregory.

"I decided I wanted to see if the little Lovegood loves good, you know what I'm saying? And I thought it might be fun to have a go at breaking her heart in the process," said Zabini.

"You're despicable," said Gregory.

"Wow, Goyle," Blaise said, "I didn't know you knew any big words."

Gregory scowled and stomped into the bathroom.

"It gets him every time," smirked Blaise.

"You disgust me," said Draco.

"He'll get over it," said Blaise.

"That's not what I meant. I'm talking about Lovegood."

"What about her?"

"She's part of their crowd! The low-class riff-raff! Those," Draco shuddered, "Gryffindors."

"So?" said Blaise with a shrug. "At least I'm not in love with one of them."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've seen you look at Smith."

"So? Lots of people look at her."

"Don't be an ass," said Blaise. "You're so in love with her, it's ridiculous."

"I am not!" shouted Draco, jumping up from his bed.

"Prove it!"

Instead of doing so, Draco screwed up his face, balled up his fist and charged at Zabini. He landed a punch on Blaise's jaw just as Crabbe walked in the door.

"Bloody hell," said Blaise, reeling back and holding his jaw. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being a selfish blood-traitor," spat Draco.

Vincent grunted and Blaise looked at him.

"What?" Blaise challenged. "You want to have a go, too?"

Vincent almost looked as if he would take him up on his offer, but he paused when he saw Gregory raising a fist behind Blaise. Gregory cracked Blaise in the back of the head and Blaise saw stars. He stumbled forward, tripped over Draco's pillow, pitched onto the floor and remained there, unconscious.

"Uh," said Vincent after a long pause, "should we take him to the hospital wing?"

"Nah," said Gregory as he cradled his aching fist. "Let's leave him outside the common room for Snape to find."

Draco shrugged. "Sounds good to me," he said and he flicked his wand at Blaise to levitate him.

Meanwhile in the Ravenclaw dorms, Luna and Anne were having a heart to heart chat.

"So, you and Blaise, huh?" said Anne, picking at a corner of her pillow. "I thought that Vincent Crabbe fellow was in love with you."

"He is," said Luna as she was brushing out her hair, "or at least he thinks he is. Who's to say whether it's true love or not? Only the servants of Obla Pish, I suppose."

"Wait a second; you're not testing him to see whether or not he's truly in love with you, are you?"

"Of course I am," said Luna.

"Uh, you do know that those kinds of tests only end in heartache and misery, right?" said Anne.

"Don't be silly," said Luna. "It always works out in the books."

Anne smacked herself on the head and rolled her eyes.

"There seems to be a lot of gratuitous eye rolling going on around here," said Mandy Brocklehurst sourly as she observed the pair. They in turn completely ignored her and went to bed.

Three weeks later it was time for the students of Hogwarts to return home for the holidays. Anne picked at her breakfast that morning as she listened to the other children chattering excitedly.

"What's the matter?" asked Draco as he slid into the seat beside her.

Anne sighed and pushed her breakfast away from her. "I don't know if Daddy wants me home for the holidays."

"How do you know?" asked Draco as he began to pile food on his plate.

"He never said anything."

"Did you say anything?"

"Well, no," said Anne slowly.

"That's the way it is with fathers," said Draco with a shrug. "They never say anything unless you say something first."

Anne pouted. "Yes, they do," she grumbled under her breath and she viciously speared a sausage with her fork.

That afternoon Anne watched the others leave Hogwarts from the steps at the front of the castle. She pulled her cloak tightly around her as she watched the gaily chattering groups cavort on their way to the train. When they were gone, she slowly and glumly turned back into the castle. She went to her room and began to do her homework. It was nearing dinner time when a figure paused in her bedroom doorway. Anne glanced at the door before jumping up gleefully.

"Daddy!" she cried and she flew into his arms and hugged him.

"Why weren't you on the train?" he asked.

"You didn't tell me to," said Anne. "I thought I wasn't supposed to come home."

"Don't be silly," said Lord Voldemort.

"But—but the whole reason I came here was so I wouldn't be underfoot," said Anne uncertainly as she watched her father's face darken, "isn't that right, Daddy?"

"It's bloody Christmas," he growled softly. "Pack your things."

"Ok," said Anne with a large grin stretched across her face.

The pair left and apparated as soon as they left Hogwart's grounds.