Chapter 20

Draco immediately began to feel guilty. He felt as though he had thrown Charlotte's kindness back in her face. She had accepted him being a Death Eater so quickly, trusting him even though he embodied one of her biggest fears. And now, because of his callous hatred of Muggle-borns, he'd driven her to tears, instilling new fear in her forgiving, kind heart. Draco hadn't noticed she was any different before, and had grown stronger because of her presence in his life. He tried to appear strong and resilient to his fellow students, but he couldn't argue the fact that he was deathly afraid of losing Charlotte. And he had most likely just broken her heart. He sighed, looked around the study, and gathered his things. He knew he wouldn't be welcome there anymore.

He went through the facts for the hundredth time in his mind, trying to convince himself that Charlotte really was Muggle-born. He mentally added another item to the list that she hadn't mentioned: the gorgeous dress she wore on the night of the Ball was handmade. He sighed, attempting to get a grip on his feelings. Had he really almost fallen for a Muggle-born witch? His Charlotte, a brilliant witch, the sweetest and most kind person he'd ever known, was what he was supposed to hate the most: a Mudblood. He shook his head, feeling all mixed up, and left to do his homework in his dormitory.

"Shut your mouth, filthy Mudblood!" Draco's words echoed through her mind over and over, the pain of rejection pulsing through her. The boy she had feelings for had just called her a monster. Charlotte felt absolutely worthless. She stormed down the hallway, ignoring people who she passed as she wiped her tears, and attempted to calm herself down. She dropped her books once, and paused to gather them up, stuffing them into her book bag haphazardly. She didn't look where she was walking, and bumped into someone. When she looked up, dark robes and a slightly menacing look startled her. She realized who it was, and tried to regain her composure.

"P…Professor Snape, I'm sorry, I… I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." She stuttered a bit, still flustered and upset.

Snape frowned, "Miss LaRocque? Is everything all right?" He laid a hand on her shoulder lightly, and felt her small frame heaving slightly with suppressed sobs.

"No, I… I'm fine, Professor, I've just…" she couldn't form a coherent sentence. After a deep breath, she continued, "I'm fine. It's just a stupid little thing, nothing to get upset about. I'm merely overreacting, is all."

"I daresay it isn't something small, Miss LaRocque." He raised an eyebrow, reading her expression, seeing the pain in it. He knew that pain all too well, and he hated to see her go through it. Charlotte looked down at her hands, and when she looked back up at him, tears threatening to start anew, Severus couldn't help but roll his eyes and continue, "Now then, I'm not very good at dealing with sentiments or matters of the heart, but I can offer you a warm cup of tea. Maybe some time with Bella will lift your spirits a bit?"

Charlotte was touched by his awkward attempt at making her feel better. She smiled faintly, and nodded. Snape led the way to his office, where she began to feel much better, after a cup of tea and a visit with the big vampire bat that resided there.

She soon stood to go, thanked the professor for the tea, and assured him that she was feeling much better. "Until tomorrow's class then, Professor."

As she turned to go, Snape caught her attention, "The Malfoys really are a dense lot, especially their only son. Don't let his hatred and cowardice get to you. If he knows what's good for him, he'll come around."

"Uh, thanks, Professor." Charlotte smiled, curious as to what the teacher might mean, but feeling a bit more hopeful as well.

With Valentine's Day coming up, letters and gifts from secret (and some not so secret) admirers abounded in Hogwarts. In fact, one Valentine's Day gift would go too far, and this one affected Draco indirectly.

One night, when Ronald Weasley accidentally consumed Harry Potter's entire box of love potion-laced Valentine chocolates, he sought Professor Slughorn's help. The Potions professor aided them, and to wash down the bad-tasting antidote to the potent love potion, Slughorn offered the red-haired boy a glass of wine, a gift he had been told to deliver to Dumbledore, but felt it was necessary to open now.

Upon taking a single sip, Ron began to foam at the mouth, and shudder as though possessed by a demon. Harry immediately gave Ron a bezoar, which relieved the poison's fatal effects, but left him bedridden for days. He had been sent to the Infirmary to recover. Slughorn had no idea that the wine was poisoned, and upon realizing the frightening fact that he might have killed the headmaster with this gift, accusations and suspicions began to fly. Draco wasn't worried, as he had covered his tracks effectively. He was disappointed, however, as yet another of his indirect attempts on the life of the headmaster had failed. He was beginning to dread the reality of his situation. He might actually have to face the headmaster himself, do the killing with his own hand.

As the days passed, when Draco saw Charlotte, he noticed she looked rather upset. She was mostly alone or with a few friends, trying to appear at ease, but when he'd pass her by, she'd tense up, and look pointedly away from him, avoiding his gaze at all costs. It really hurt Draco to see her like this, but he knew he deserved it. He wasn't sure what to do about it, if there even was anything he could do.

Hermione detected some note of sorrow in Charlotte's actions of late, and watched how her friend reacted closely, searching for the source of her pain. When Malfoy passed or even came within their line of sight, Charlotte would turn, almost visibly pinning her ears back with displeasure, a wounded gesture.

She decided to interrupt her friend's reverie, "What's wrong, Charlotte? You look like you're trying to kill Malfoy with your ice-cold thoughts. Not that I mind, but don't you usually get along all right with him?"

"He found out I was Muggle-born, and vilified me. I haven't talked to him since." She spoke, pained.

"I was afraid that would happen. I'm sorry. When his grades start to suffer, then he'll know he lost an important asset. He deserves to fail, at least in my book." She put a hand on her friend's shoulder, comfortingly.

Charlotte leaned into Hermione's hand, as if needing support. This confused Hermione, as it appeared she lost more than she was letting on. "Are you okay? Is there anything more that's bothering you?"

Charlotte shook her head, smiling amiably, "No, I'm fine. Simply worn out from a long week."

"All right," Hermione conceded, and they returned to a more positive topic of conversation. Charlotte brightened at the mention of a new topic, but Hermione was still pensive about whether something was bothering her.

A few days later, Charlotte found herself working in the library with a few students from one of her classes. They were working together on a paper that was to be a group project, due later in the week. It was a free day, conferences for the teachers, as well as a break in classes, and Charlotte's group had wanted to make the best of their free time. The conversation was mostly academic, but once the paper neared completion, it became more informal, almost gossipy.

"I heard that it was an attempt on the headmaster's life!"

"No, it couldn't be."

"Then why did Weasley almost die when he drank the wine meant for Dumbledore?"

At this, Hermione shifted uneasily, "If you'll excuse me, I need to… um, go tend to Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts." She glanced at Charlotte, who inclined her head knowingly.

Charlotte was well aware of the strong feelings Hermione had for Ron Weasley, and added, "That's fine! You have done more than your part. I know those skrewts need you more than we do." Hermione blushed slightly, and turned to leave. Charlotte knew she was on her way to the Infirmary, where she'd spent almost every non-class waking hour since Ron had been checked in.

Padma Patil restarted the conversation on the same topic, "Who do you think sent the wine to Slughorn?"

"The note said anonymous, so we can't know for sure!" Seamus Finnigan shrugged.

Parvati Patil spoke next, "I'll bet someone close to the underbelly of the school would know."

There was a pause, then Seamus snapped his fingers with inspiration, "I've got it! I bet Malfoy and his group know who is behind it."

"I heard he might even be suspected." Cormac McLaggan interjected. He turned to Charlotte, "What do you think, LaRocque? I thought you were rather close to him, did you pick up on any cold-hearted assassin vibes from him?"

Charlotte bristled, but replied calmly, "I was only his tutor, so I can't say for sure. Cold-hearted, certainly, but that's his persona. But Draco Malfoy, an assassin? I don't think he has it in him." She found herself defending him, even though he had hurt her. She had never really gotten along that well with Cormac, as despite his charming good looks, all Charlotte saw was a hollow personality. She was nice to him, but smoothly rebuffed his advances at every instance.

"I don't know him that well either," Parvati added, furrowing her brow.

"The only people he lets near him are those louts, Crabbe and Goyle," Seamus sighed.

Cormac kept his gaze on Charlotte, his eyes flashing darkly, suggestively. "I'll bet you could get at least some answer from him, LaRocque: just threaten to stop tutoring him, and he'll tell you anything you want to know."

She frowned at him, "No, Cormac, I couldn't. Malfoy made it very clear that I was of no more use to him, as a tutor or otherwise. The only thing I could get from him is a cold stare and maybe even an insult or two."

Seamus added, eagerly, "Maybe that makes him more of a suspect!"

Padma rolled her eyes, "Sure, he's a jerk, but I don't think he has any reason to hate Dumbledore. Someone out there wants him dead, and I don't know why."

Charlotte had heard enough, and stood up abruptly. Padma raised an eyebrow at her, and asked, "Are you all right, Charlotte?"

"Oh, I'm just tired. Look, I have to go, I'll see you all later." She left, the group looking curiously after her for a moment, then starting on a different topic of scandal or rumor.

Charlotte wandered out into the hallways, and tried to focus on an upcoming presentation in Defense Against the Dark Arts. All that talk of Draco Malfoy and his ill intentions had put her in a downcast mood. She didn't for a single minute contest that he was most likely up to no good, but she couldn't help defending him to her peers. The fact that Charlotte had been pointedly avoiding Draco Malfoy as of late made her more edgy when he was mentioned in conversation. She was avoiding him for fear of what he would say to her, what he would do now that he knew what she was: a Mudblood.

Suddenly, she heard her name being called by a familiar, earnest voice. Her face fell, as she knew that voice all too well, and the way her heart leapt at the sound was met with an equally strong feeling of stabbing dread.

~~~~~~~~(Earlier that morning...)~~~~~~~~

Draco was feeling very lost. His last stunt to kill the headmaster had severely backfired, putting yet another fellow student in mortal danger. Suspicion had grown against him, and he was feeling an immense amount of pressure on many fronts. When Charlotte was there, he could vent about the difficulties associated with being a Death Eater that he went through every day. He had even admitted to her that he had been assigned a terrible task. He didn't tell her what it was, but the way she took his hand when he told her how hard it was made him feel as though he still had some of his humanity left, and that she would be there for him through anything. His Dark Magic training with his Aunt Bellatrix had grown very taxing, and seeing her bright, smiling face each day had given him some hope that there was still some light in the world, and that life wasn't all about pain and suffering. He was amazed at how much he missed such small gestures of encouragement.

Draco loved that about her: how even after he told her some new, dark secret about being a Death Eater or how terrifying it all was, she would always smile at him and tell him that everything was all right, and that he didn't have to worry so much. He loved how she could see right through his façade, and almost always had been able to. He loved how her eyes sparkled when she was excited about something, and how her brown hair shimmered in the light of the hallways. He loved how she…

Suddenly Draco noticed what he was thinking: he loved this about Charlotte, loved that about her, he loved… could he possibly love her? He then realized that he, Draco Malfoy, was in love with Charlotte LaRocque! He couldn't bear to let go of someone he cared so deeply about, especially not someone he loved! He had only ever remembered feeling hate and disdain for most things, and an enjoyment of the suffering of those he deemed less important. Never had he known such a positive emotion or valued the companionship and presence of another human being so much! He desperately wanted her to know how he felt, but one big thing stopped him.

Each day he saw the pain his insensitivity had caused Charlotte. He saw it in her deep brown eyes every day when he passed her in the hallways or saw her in class. He hated that he was so stupid to have caused the girl he loved so much misery. Draco then knew what he had to do. He knew it might take a miracle for her to forgive him, and he knew that this relationship would be difficult and maybe dangerous for both of them in many ways, but he was willing to risk it all for her. He immediately stopped moping about in his room, and set out to find Charlotte.

"Charlotte! Miss LaRocque!" Draco ran to catch up with her.

"What do you want?" Charlotte asked softly, accusingly. She didn't look at him for fear of her voice betraying her underlying dread.

Draco took a moment to catch his breath, and finally spoke, "I want to talk to you." He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous action, continuing, "Charlotte, I'm sorry. I know that I'm a spiteful, tasteless jerk that finds fun in humiliating others. But you saw past that, and you were the first to do so, to find the good things in me. You were always so good to me, so sweet and kind, but I never did a thing to repay you. And when you found out I was a Death Eater, you sought me out and told me it was okay, that you still cared about me, even though you were afraid." He sighed, "You said you hoped I could do something like that for you someday, and that day is today. I love you, even though you're a Mudblood—I mean, Muggle-born. I don't care about that. I mean… you're everything to me, Charlotte. I would hate to lose you over some stupid blood issue."

"But I thought you didn't think I was worth your time anymore," she brightened at his words, but looked away quickly, still afraid to let him back into her heart.

"You're worth so much to me, I think I can look past the fact that you're not from a Wizarding family," he said sincerely.

"Honestly? You don't care that I'm Muggle-born?" She searched his eyes for a hint of deception, as Draco's eyes always revealed his true mindset no matter what he may say or do.

He shook his head, "No, I don't. In fact, I… I love you, Charlotte." He suddenly got very shy. "I'm sorry, that must've sounded ridiculous."

She shook her head, smiling, "Not at all! That was very sweet, Draco. You really are a wonderful boy."

He shook his head, "No, I'm not. I was so cruel to you, and I hate that about myself." Charlotte looked at him, surprised at how tolerant and mature he was acting. She let him continue, determination in his eyes, "I'm going to make up for it, I promise. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Death Eater or not. I'm going to protect you from any harm, and prove that I do care about you, Charlotte."

He looked around fleetingly, making sure no one was around, and leaned down to kiss Charlotte in the middle of the hallway. He wrapped his arms around her, carefully, so as not to scare her off. She let him kiss her, and kissed him back just as gently.

Charlotte knew he was telling the truth, as she found nothing in his eyes to say otherwise. She whispered in his ear when he broke the kiss, "I love you, too, Draco Malfoy."

At this, his lips met hers once more, quickly, and he squeezed her tightly before releasing her from his embrace.

"Care to join me for lunch, mon amour?" Charlotte inquired, still amazed at his reaction.

"As you wish," he kept one hand resting lightly on the small of her back, as if guiding her. When people began filing into the hallway, Draco let his hand drop slowly, casually, and glanced at Charlotte dotingly. He regained his normal, high and mighty façade, and Charlotte rolled her eyes, smiling to herself. The rest of that day, the two of them were in high spirits.

Unbeknownst to Draco and Charlotte, Snape witnessed this occurrence from a safe distance, and was amused, if not the least bit pleased. Snape had noticed in his discreet watching over of Draco, that when he was around Charlotte, he acted more at ease, almost happier, and less uptight and snippety than when she wasn't with him. He'd even caught Draco in the act of giving Charlotte a kiss on the cheek in an otherwise empty corridor a few weeks previous. Snape didn't interfere when he saw them together, of course, and his observations actually made him a little happy for Draco, that he might be finding a little piece of happiness and light in his dark, shadowy life. He knew the boy would need it, as the time to truly test his ability as a Death Eater was fast approaching.