Unconditional

by Triage the Potterfan

This is the story of one witch's unconditional love for one Harry Potter. A love that led her to acts and feats of magic not seen since ages past. A love that survives the passage of time, to explore new possibilities...OC-Tober One-Shot. I know I know, super duper late, but this got carried farther than anticipated. Hope you enjoy. Harry/OC pairing.

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Disclaimer:
Triage Inc. does not own the rights to Harry Po-

Emily King frowned at the text. It felt like something was missing. Something very important. "Nauze?" she called.

"Yeah, Em?" replied the company's Alpha Beta (™) of Omega Writing. He had been hiding behind Watson the rabbit, hoping against hope that for once he'd escape getting called to do something that would likely result in absolute humiliation for him, and ridiculous shenanigans for all.

"I think something's missing in our disclaimer today," declared Emily firmly, and she looked pointedly at the orange juice-hating man, "did you place the order for the human cannonball and a do-it-yourself volcano with actual lava to dunk FanFiction trolls in yesterday?"

"Uh...yeah, yeah I did." said Nauze whilst he frantically started typing in an order on his phone. Holy crap, when did cannonballs get so expensive? And why on earth did the DIY Volcano come with a free salsa dip?!

"Oh, really?" Emily's voice was suddenly right behind Nauze, and he looked up sheepishly from his seat.

Even though she was only four feet nine, Emily was somehow able to look imposing, as she tapped her foot impatiently. And ohhhh no, she had a chainsaw in her hand. Where in the flaming heck did she get that thing from?

"It looks to me like you actually forgot to place the order yesterday, thus making us late for delivery of the Standard Disclaimer," said Emily, "which, in case you haven't noticed, HAS ALREADY STARTED!"

Nauze cringed, "Look, I'm sorry, okay?!" he said testily, "Thorber Stone, our fearless leader, had this last-minute pile that he dropped on me RIGHT AFTER you told me to place the order. I barely had time to finish up as is."

If looks could kill, Emily would have been guilty of countless murders by now, but Nauze placated her quickly, "Now, no need to get all upset, all is not lost."

"Explain!"

"I managed to get in touch with the Weasley Twins, and they are happy to clone up twenty thousand sheep, get Harry into leather trousers, and sing 'She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain When She Comes', and Seamus will supply some pyrotechnics to distract everyone from any particular flaws." That seemed like a solid plan as far as Nauze was concerned.

Emily chewed her lip as she thought it over, and sighed, "I guess that will have to do."

"Great! I've got a bit more editing to do here. Oh, look, a hamster!" Nauze pointed past Emily's shoulder, and the girl immediately whipped around.

"Where? Where?!" demanded the manic redhead.

"Off the stage, to the left," said Nauze and he turned to the audience as Emily chased after a non-existent hamster, "we don't own Harry Potter, folks, nor do we own Paramount Pictures or anything else associated with J. K. Rowling's works. Anyway, enjoy the story!"

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Acknowledgement: Special thanks to my tireless beta, Nauze. Credit to Brutus and Liberty Prime (gomez36000) who offer a combination of moral support or input and corrections. Couldn't have made it this far without any of you!

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Self Promotion: I have a Discord server on my profile. If you fancy joining, you can find me there.

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Author's Note: This is a story of truest love, selflessness, courage, and sacrifice. It is a tale of pain, loss, perseverance and steadfastness. It is a madness, to love so fiercely, to the ignorance of one's own wellbeing at times, and yet, this is the kind of love one Malice Match experiences. A love that is unconditional. Please read and review. You know you want to.

This oneshot was written for the Harry/OCtober Collection on Sal-MIA Studios discord. Check out the other submissions by looking in the FFN community or the AO3 collection. Please feel free to join using this link: discord. gg / hq5ZvYYMA7 (remove the spaces).

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Unconditional
By Triage
1991 - 2091: Love You For a Thousand Years
A One-Shot

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The pain was unimaginable, but Malice took comfort in knowing that it was fleeting and would soon be over. She took a moment, in which she discovered many more as time slowed down to almost a standstill. Perhaps this was all part of death. She was already seeing herself almost in the third person. She could see it as if she were standing beside herself, frozen in time, mouth bared open in an incoherent scream, long wavy dark hair streaming behind, dark eyes with blue outer rings, her body aglow in a painful white light, rushing heedlessly at Voldemort and his Inner Circle of Death Eaters.

She didn't really have time to consider how she looked now, even as large green bolts of Killing curses were clearly heading towards her, as well as multiple Cruciatus curses. Perhaps that was the source of the blinding pain, which, even now, she still felt, separated from her own body as she was, but it somehow didn't perturb her. Yes, she was drawing close to her demise. Despite that, she did not feel troubled or saddened. She had said all that needed to be said, and there was nothing more but to see this through and...move on.

That was when she realised it was true what people said.

Life flashed before her eyes as she inched ever closer to death. She was all but a split second away from complete oblivion, and she could see the entirety of her life, the sum of her parts, her joy, her pain, her love, her sorrow. All of it began to play in a chaotic jumble, but in the timeless void of eternity, she could see it all at leisure. And that was what she did. She smiled to herself, ignoring her present. She knew the outcome, and there was no changing that.

Instead, she decided to just reminisce.

She picked out her earliest memories, seeing her childhood, and choked back a sob. Even now, at this point, the raw feeling never left when she looked at her parents, Marcus and Medusa. From a third-person perspective, she could view her life in a way she never could before. It was like looking through a pensieve. Maybe that was what she was doing. Magic was certainly interesting. But whatever the reason, she was grateful, and also felt a little silly. In truth, if she allowed everything to play out without sitting here playing through the memories of her life, she'd already be reunited with her family.

She pushed the thought out of her head, though, and stubbornly continued on. She decided she'd honour her family, friends, and cherish her mortal experience one last time. There was no going back, she was sure, much as she yearned for it to be otherwise. Might as well make the most of it. So, she plucked at the threads of her memories, and immersed herself...

It was the day of her birth. There were her parents, and Mrs Monday, the family midwife, attended Medusa. It was quite surreal for Malice, witnessing her own birth, and oddly fitting. That she would get to see it in all its glory, at the cusp. Medusa cried out in pain, and her grip tightened on Marcus' hand, painfully so, by Malice's guess, as she knew her mother's strength, and it alarmed her to see how much pain her mother was in just giving birth to her.

Is that why she didn't want any more children after me? was the thought.

And there she was. A tiny little snake, with the voice of a lioness, and covered in so much icky stuff, even Malice gagged at the sight of herself. Her dark hair was already growing out, and oddball eye colour was evident even then. The joy on the faces of all the adults was overwhelming. She smiled at her parents, stating quietly, "You're going to have your hands full with me!"

She flitted out of the memory and went to the next one. In this one, she was only a year old, and she'd already performed her first act of accidental magic. Her toy dragon breathed actual fire and set the drapes aflame. Oh, Medusa was vexed, but Marcus was overjoyed. As she moved on to the next memory, she began to delve deeper and deeper into the events, taking in the scents, sights, sounds, taste, and feel of everything, until she was literally the memories, and re-lived them exactly as she did the first time, and she no longer saw things from a third person perspective.

It was her eleventh birthday, July the thirty-first. Oh yes, she shared her birthday with a certain someone of far greater note than the Match family. Even so, it was a great day to be alive. Birthdays were the best. Birthdays, as far as Malice Match was concerned, were simply the only day to live for if they continued on the trend her family set.

Essentially, they celebrated her for existing! Best part? She didn't have to do a darn thing. The canopies had been set up, the house-elves were merrily snapping their bony fingers and making cakes...CAKES!...and all sorts of other delicious savoury treats, all of them Malice's favourite. The girl was, of course, excited. She wasn't going to lift a finger to do a single thing today, except get out of bed, with a sigh, and make her grand appearance. She was the guest of honour after all, and someone had to eat that delicious three-tiered, cherry-covered, cream cheese cake supreme. Her relatives and friends were all showing up, and it was going to be quite the affair. Oh, and then there's all those presents...but hopefully she could convince her house-elves to do the unwrapping and opening for her. That would be very nice. It was her birthday, after all!

"Happy birthday, darling," said Medusa. Thankfully, aside from the name, she wasn't in the habit of turning anyone who saw her into stone.

"Thank you, mother!" said Malice, and hugged her, then she cleared her throat and backed away, quickly coming up with something appropriately Match-family worthy to say, "I suppose this is adequately satisfactory an event for the family standards. I did instruct the house-elves on what to do."

"Excellent," said her father, Marcus, joining his wife and daughter. "I shall be asking each elf what you had guided them to do that they don't already know how to do."

He winked at his wife, who grinned back at him, and Malice swallowed. "Of course, father!" she piped up happily, and then said, "Excuse me a moment, please."

Perfect. Now she had to talk to a house-elf and do a modicum of actual work on her birthday to make sure her bluff wouldn't be called.

She had been making her way to the main foyer of the Match family estate, seeking a hapless elf to accost and talk to, ensuring they would all attest to her having given them instructions to make her birthday party a Match family roaring success. And that was when she had to lose her footing and aggressively introduce her face to the grassy floor, "SWEET MERLIN!"

Right at the same time, she felt something small land squarely on her back, and deposit something flat on top of her head. Removing the offending flat object, she saw it was an envelope, and as she moved to rise, she realized what landed on her back was an owl, which took wing now that its task was done, and the girl all but forgot about it as she excitedly opened her letter, realizing what it was, and she forgot about going after a house-elf as she, for once in her life, ran, shouting all the way to her mother, "I'M GOING TO HOGWARTS! ABOUT BLOODY TIME!"

"Language, my dear!" said Medusa, but without any bite in her tone. She knew Malice was absolutely excited about this day. The girl was quite a living irony, given her name, and yes, the Match family certainly got a few looks for their choice of name for their darling daughter. But Malice was proof of the fact that names didn't always define a person. So it really was rare to hear the girl uttering even the slightest offensive word.

She flashed her letter proudly for the rest of the day throughout the party, which was, of course, a roaring success, and Malice did eventually accost an elf to instruct as if she organized the whole thing. Fortunately, it wasn't anything unique or different from what she'd done every year prior.

The Match family was quite well-to-do, and stood on equal footing with the Greengrass, Nott, Parkinson and Longbottom families, though only in wealth and status. In terms of stance, they were largely unknown. Marcus Match was as much an enigma in the Wizengamot as he was in his exact dealings that earned him so much money.

Although not fully versed in it herself, Malice knew that the Match family had no issues in dealing with Muggles and making business ventures. Which was why the young girl had a private room without magic, and electronic devices for her to learn about and play with. She greeted her guests and friends, and then smiled politely when Draco and his parents arrived.

"Welcome, Lord and Lady Malfoy, Heir Malfoy," said Malice, and gestured with one arm as she turned sideways, "I hope you will enjoy the celebrations."

Draco smirked at the girl and Malice had to resist rolling her eyes. While the Malfoys were really extravagant with their gifts, she rather wished the purpose behind the gift wasn't to show and remind her that the Malfoys were always richer than any other family. "Happy birthday, Heiress Match. May the gods ever favour your path." said Draco with practiced ease as he withdrew his hand from behind his back, and presented her with something hidden under a small canvas.

Even with the cover of the canvas, Malice could make out the potent glow, and she had a feeling she knew what it was. "It can't be..." said the girl, looking awed.

The Malfoys looked smug and amused at Malice's reaction, "No need to wait, it is your birthday, Malice," said Draco, and she ignored that it was because he wanted it to be shown that his gift would likely outweigh anything anyone could think to give.

Malice had tugged the canvas off and Neville announced it, "A Romani Wish Crystal," recognizing it for what it was.

"The potency of the wish is quite potent. The man came from the Vane family line, and he assures that a wish from a sincere and pure heart would have their desire granted." explained Lucius, and he leaned forward a little, "Use it wisely."

"Th-thank you." said Malice, for once, too awed to feel annoyed, and maybe, just maybe, she would do something really nice for the Malfoys one day.

As the festivities wound down for the evening, and the children returned home, Malice carefully placed the floating luminous multi-hued crystal by her bedside, the golden bowl-like base keeping the crystal in place. While known amongst the magical community, very few thieves ever bother to steal such treasures because of the fact that purity of heart and goodness was needed to use it, thereby nullifying its usefulness to anyone with greed or...ironically, malicious intent.

"Malice, dear," called Marcus, "come see me in my study for a moment, please."

"Okay, father." said Malice and she scampered after him, following him into his very cozy private office.

It had some special runes and rituals that allowed technology to work here, so he had a phone line and other amenities on the occasions where Muggle business men had come to visit them. The room had a rich burgundy colour scheme, with some conservative application of mahogany wood, and the lamps gave off a warm light, but his desk lamp had a green shade. She settled into a soft couch, kicking her legs back and forth.

Marcus leaned against the mantelpiece over the fireplace and grinned at the girl, "My daughter, going to Hogwarts at last."

Malice smiled at him, feeling proud and happy too, plus still riding on the joy of celebrating her birthday.

"I remember, you were all but six years old, when you decided you wanted to go to Hogwarts then and there," said Marcus with a small chuckle, "we just couldn't put you to bed that night when you realized you had to wait five more years."

"It was worth the wait, though," replied Malice.

Marcus nodded, looking wistful suddenly, "Yes, yes it was...but where have the years gone?"

"Father?"

"I am honestly not certain I'm ready to let you go away for so long, just yet." he said, looking at her with a smile that now no longer reached his eyes.

"I'll still be seeing you on Christmas break, and Easter," assured the girl, "I'll write you everyday!"

Marcus chuckled.

"And...and well it's still months before I actually have to go. We'll make the most of it!"

"Yes, yes we will," said Marcus, "come here, darling."

Malice got back on her feet, and approached the man, and he wrapped her in a gentle hug. "Ah, my little princess, growing up too fast for me."

"Fatherrr," whined Malice, slightly embarrassed but also enjoying the affection.

"Hush, my dear, let your father enjoy dreaming of his little princess staying a little princess for a little while more."

She acquiesced and stayed quiet. She honestly didn't remember when she'd gone to bed that night, and had gone through a nearly similar event with her mother. It was double the awkwardness when both wanted to hug and hold on to her.

~ O ~

In between those days remaining to her eventual journey to Hogwarts, Marcus and Medusa began to drill into Malice the importance of maintaining a facade of cool indifference, and to keep secret just how involved the family really was with muggles and overseas contacts. It wasn't exactly something new, but her parents became quite particular all of a sudden, so she knew how important it had to be.

During the shopping visit to Diagon Alley, the place was overrun with parents and children rushing to and fro for the necessities. Though they had gotten some of the items and particulars, Marcus thought it would be nice to observe the goings on of other families, so Malice got her first look at all the potential peers she would be staying with for most of the year for the next seven years.

She'd seen an excitable and exuberant bushy-haired witch, who, judging by her clothing, had to be a Muggle-Born. Then there was a small army of redheads who had to be the Weasleys. She smiled at them as they went by, though none of them really noticed. And the most curious sighting was a small boy with messy hair, broken glasses and escorted by a gargantuan man.

She couldn't help gaping at the sight of that. The boy was admiring his pet snowy owl. She smiled at that again. It was certainly a beautiful bird. It swiveled its head about and locked eyes with her as the boy and his giant guardian ambled past. She gulped and felt like the bird was gauging her very soul.

"Coming, dear?" called Marcus and Malice blinked.

"Yes, father."

After a visit to the family vault in Gringotts, which was always fun and eye-opening. Marcus and Medusa's business dealings were nothing short of continuous success, and every time, it felt like the coffers were growing in volume, they were on their way to get all the shopping done, and Marcus knew, with amusement, why Malice was anxious and impatient. She was almost downright irritable by the time they got round to where she really wanted to be.

But now that they reached their destination, she found herself staring up at the door to Olivanders, and hesitating to enter.

"What's wrong, darling?" asked Marcus, and Medusa had soon arrived to stand behind her as well, having concluded her visit to the apothecary.

"The letter guarantees, right, that I'm a witch?" asked Malice, feeling a seed of doubt. Exceptions have happened.

Marcus smiled and knelt down, "Malice, when you were six, you gave Twiggins green hair, just so you could brush it. I have no doubt, my dear, that you are not only a witch, but a very powerful one."

The house elf in particular also wasn't sure how to take having hair that stayed for almost a month!

"Right...thank you, father." Malice leaned in to hug him, knowing that neither he nor Medusa were inclined to refuse such an act these days. "All right, let's go!"

She'd pulled back and tugged on her mother's hand, who reached out to grab Marcus, dragging them all in.

There was a sound like a tinkling bell from somewhere within ringing once they were inside the shop. The place was positively tiny and tightly packed. There was little in the way of furniture except for a spindly chair, but Marcus conjured a more comfortable looking seat for his wife and transfigured the spindly chair to be a match as they both settled in. It felt much like a rather strict library, except instead of books, there were thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The feeling of magic surrounded the girl.

"Good afternoon," greeted the soft voice of Garrick Olivander, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, wide pale eyes shining like moons.

"Good afternoon," said Malice in return, and she smiled up at him.

"Hmm, yes, yes, I have been expecting you, young Miss Match," said Olivander, "I see your parents there. Yes, yes, your father favoured a hazel wand, about fourteen inches, flexible. Very excellent for conjuring, as he just demonstrated there. Excellent work."

Marcus nodded and smiled as Olivander drew closer to Malice, who didn't move but simply tilted her head higher to maintain eye contact.

"Your mother, on the other hand, favoured a wand made with applewood. Eleven and a half inches, a bit stiff. Very very rare, and also very powerful. Suitable to people with high aims and ideals. And she certainly matched that description, didn't she?"

The man turned a knowing smile towards Medusa, who returned the expression but said nothing.

"Now it's your turn, my dear. Come then, stand over here, arms out."

Malice did as ordered and briefly imagined being back at Madam Malkin's, as a tape measure appeared and began measuring her everywhere.

"Your wand arm?" asked the man.

"Left, sir." said Malice.

"Ah, yes, excellent. That will do," he commanded the tape, which immediately crumpled in a heap at her feet.

"Let's get started," Olivander brought a few boxes of wands, opening the topmost one, he placed it on a small desk in front of her, and said, "Elderwood and dragon heartstring core, fifteen inches, very stiff, give it a go."

Malice picked it up and made a small gesture with it and puffs of smoke and sparks shot out.

"No, no, that's not it," said Olivander who snatched it right out of the girl's weak grasp, and almost immediately placed another in her hands, "try this one. Ivy wood and unicorn hair core, ten and a half inches, supple."

With a smile, she was about to try making a motion with it when Olivander snatched it again, tutting and shaking his head and taking out another wand for her.

Six different wands later, Olivander actually seemed to be getting excited, whilst Marcus and Medusa watched on with interest, "Yes yes, a challenging one, aren't you!" he said with a pleased grin, "Here we go, alder wood and thestral tail hair core, fourteen inches, flexible."

"EEK!" a gout of flame exploded out of the wand and nearly singed Olivander, who merely laughed and used his own wand to put out the boxes behind that caught fire. Malice quickly placed that one on the desk and backed away.

"No need to be scared, my dear," said Olivander, "This is all part of the search for your matching wand. After all, the wand chooses the witch or wizard. Let's go on!"

Seven more tries and near disasters later, Malice was beginning to despair, but Olivander was almost overjoyed.

"Hmm, I have something for you," he said, looking intently at the little girl. He shuffled to the back, and came back with an ornate hand-carved wooden box with decorative gold filigree on the edges. "A fellow wandmaker made a bet with me, you see. He gave me a strand of hair from a Veela, willingly given. He told me to try and make a wand out of it. Tricky cores, Veela hair...but I did it. I used Rosewood to encase it. Thirteen inches, inflexible."

He held it out to her, then suddenly pulled back, saying, "A wizard or witch of a great destiny may hold this wand, be warned."

Malice looked wide-eyed at him, then grinned, "You say that to all your clients."

"Perhaps so, perhaps so," said Olivander as he placed the wand in the girl's hands.

The result was almost immediate as she floated almost an inch off the ground, her body was alight and a small breeze from nowhere blew around her, adding to an ethereal effect, before she slowly descended.

"Most remarkable," said the old wandmaker, and he grinned at Marcus and Medusa, who'd both leaned forward to stare in amazement at their daughter. "Yes, I had thought that perhaps, I would see one remarkable child walk through my doors today. But two? Well...this has been quite eventful. Quite eventful indeed."

Marcus was beaming with pride now, while Medusa had a proud smile, but Malice asked, "Two? The other must be Harry Potter."

She knew that she would likely be attending Hogwarts the same year as the famed hero of the wizarding world, so it was quite an easy guess. And surely she was right on the bet, because who else could it be? Draco Malfoy?

She mentally shuddered at the thought.

Olivander did not answer though, and just gave her a knowing smile. Her father paid for the wand, and got holsters and a maintenance kit.

Malice raised her eyebrows at the wand holsters. Seemed a tad officious and serious for a First Year. "I'll explain at home," he said.

After the shopping was done, and the family got home, Marcus sat the girl down and handed her another wand, "This is a Whirly Wand," he said, "it's not real, obviously; shoots glitter only. I want you to practice using this in your right hand, and you keep your real wand out of sight, and cast subtly with that, but keep this fake one at the forefront, making people think this is the actual wand."

"But why, father?" asked Malice.

"Subterfuge and caution," answered Marcus, "I know it's not your style, but just humour your father and exercise vigilance whenever possible."

After a while, she nodded and smiled, "Okay, I will."

"That's my girl."

Thinking that was the end of the conversation, Malice was surprised when Marcus summoned a sizable box from his desk and placed it on his lap.

"Your mother and I visited the menagerie while you were sampling every single one of Florean's ice creams," said the man, and Malice blinked, "we've seen how you are with the garden rabbits, gnomes, horklumps and everything else. We've also seen what you like to draw in your books. So..."

He handed the box to her, and she realized something alive was in it, if the thump against one side of the box was anything to go by. She gave her father a wide open-mouthed smile of wonder, and lifted the lid. She let out a squeal of delight as she lifted the tiny black kitten from the box.

It was a female kitten, with jet-black fur, blue eyes and a faint pale diamond mark on her forehead. "Ohhh she's so CUUUUUTE!" gushed Malice, hugging the sleepy little feline against herself. The kitten mewled in mild annoyance, clearly missing her nap. "Thank you, father! Thank you thank you thank you!"

She reached out to hug her father, switching the kitten into her other hand so as to avoid crushing it. "I'm naming her Midnight!"

"A suitable name for your familiar." said Marcus, "The shopkeeper said once she was weaned off her mother, she does nothing but laze about all day, and eats non-stop."

Malice blushed at that, since she matched that description quite well.

Maybe he knew about Malice's midnight snack habits.

~ O ~

The first of September came far too quickly for anybody's liking in the Match Estate. She'd done all her packing...well, okay, her house elves had done all the packing for her, and she'd had a lie-in that day. But the next day, after Malice contemplated using the Wish Crystal to add at least another forty days to the month of August, she was pulled up by an almost-equally-reluctant Medusa and Marcus.

The journey was quiet and subdued. They had a driver and a limousine that took them to King's Cross Station at a leisurely pace, having set out quite early. Malice rather thought the whole journey a bit silly, since her parents could easily apparate her to Hogsmeade, but traditions dictated it.

Marcus had to get a cart to help load up the girl's belongings and the small family made the short trek to the hidden platform. She smiled at this one, and from the small travelling pack she wore, Midnight mewed and poked her head out, her paws resting on Malice's shoulders. This was actually the one thing she was looking forward to experiencing. So, almost without waiting for her parents, she pushed her cart forward, and marvelled at the lack of resistance as the cart disappeared into the wall, and then she did too.

She reemerged at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, and could hear the bustle of other parents fussing with their children, saying their last goodbyes. Her own parents were just seconds behind her, so she was about to have her moment. He was about to kneel in front of her again when he was briefly interrupted by a throng of redheads that filed past, and then a harried gawking boy with glasses and a snowy owl, before a few more redheads streamed by.

Really, the Weasleys seemed to increase in number every year!

"Well, that's going to be interesting to watch," said Marcus, "the Weasleys are good people, Malice, I would suggest making a friendship with them if possible."

"I'll keep that in mind, father," replied Malice.

At four feet and five inches, Malice was quite small, so when Marcus knelt down, he was still eye-level with her, and she smiled at him.

"I'm going to miss you, sweetheart," he said, "try and take the effort to muster energy to write occasionally? Keep your old man from worrying too much."

"Oh, all right, if I must..." said Malice with a roll of her eyes. She wasn't fooling anyone. After eleven years with the comfort of living with her parents, she was now going to have to get used to being apart for most of a year. What if she couldn't get along with anyone?

The other children she'd played with from Pure-Blood families were mostly acquaintances at best. She'd never been around any of them for more than a few hours during events or parties. She honestly did not picture being able to be around Draco Malfoy for a whole year. But who was she to judge. Her limited array of friends was partly her own fault. If she'd been less lazy or nap-crazy, she might know the Greengrass heiress or the Davis girl a bit better.

"Be good, dear," was Medusa's only reminder, then she was having one last embrace, and all around her, people were doing the same thing.

The Hogwarts Express sounded a warning for the last boarders, and Marcus had cast a featherweight charm on her trunk, allowing her to hoist her trunk effortlessly. The boy with the glasses was seemingly alone, and was struggling with his load.

"Need a hand with that?" asked Malice, and the boy looked over at her.

"Yeah, but would you be able to...?" he started, and the girl laughed.

"No, of course not, but...father! Could you please cast the charm on..."

"Harry."

"...on Harry's luggage?"

"Of course," said Marcus, and he looked at the boy with a smile, "hello Harry. Here we go, Pluma Pondus!"

Instantly, Harry was able to carry his load one-handed, and his other hand held his magnificent owl's cage. The bird once again gave Malice the soul-piercing stare and again, the girl gulped. What was with that bird's gaze?

"C'mon," said Malice, leading the way. She looked at the first few cabins, and they were all fully occupied already. She spotted one cabin at least housing all the Pure-Blood firsties like herself. Some of them looked at her, and nodded in greeting, which she returned, but that was it.

There was no room in those cabins.

"Think we're going to have to go all the way to the end," reported Malice as they passed on almost to the last wagon.

"Looks like it," said Harry, who was observing everything with interest.

"Oh thank goodness," exclaimed the girl as they finally found an empty cabin. It seemed like every other cabin was chock full, "do you think the Express just expands itself to accommodate the number of students as needed?"

"Search me," said Harry, looking awkward, "All right, uh...I guess I'll see if there's anymore..."

"What?" Malice whipped around as she finished loading her trunk in the space above, "are you being funny? Do you see anyone else in this cabin?"

"Uhm...no, but, don't you have friends who..." Harry made a confused gesture, and the girl sighed.

"Come on in, Harry, no one else is likely to join me. We're practically the last ones to board."

He nodded and pulled in his lightweight trunk, loading it into the cabinets above. They were both quite short, so he imitated what she had done by clambering onto the seats and carefully securing the trunk.

"You might want to let your owl out," said Malice, looking at it, "it's too beautiful for a cage."

"Hoot." said the owl, bobbing its head.

Midnight mewed and showed herself again. She seemed unfazed by the sight of the large owl, and crawled all the way out of the travel pack, settling comfortably on Malice's shoulder.

"Cute kitten," said Harry and then he gingerly opened the cage for his owl. The bird clambered out and then with one powerful beat of her wings, she was up in the rafters, looking imperiously down at them.

"What's it's name?" asked Malice.

"Hedwig," said Harry, "Hagrid got her for me as a birthday present."

"Oh...that's so nice of him!" exclaimed Malice, "Wait...Hagrid? As in Groundskeeper of Hogwarts Hagrid?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Who are you?" asked Malice, and it was clear she wasn't asking his name again.

But before he could answer, another voice piped up at the door, "Mind if I join you two? Everywhere else is full."

Malice didn't mind either way, and her father did encourage her to befriend the Weasleys if possible. Still, she looked over at the boy beside her and made it clear the decision was his.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Sure, go ahead, plenty of space."

"Ta."

Ron quickly moved over to settle in across and examined them for a moment, before speaking up, "I'm Ron, Ron Weasley."

"Hello, Ron. I am Malice Match."

"And I'm Harry Potter."

At that mention, Ron's eyes widened, "Blimey, you're Harry Potter?!"

Oh, that explains it, thought Malice, realizing just which Harry she was with. He certainly looked different from the way the books seemed to portray him, and he certainly didn't look in the prime of health. That wasn't good.

"Yeah," said Harry with a small frown.

"Have you got...you know?" he looked up towards Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who –?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" asked Ron eagerly.

"Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

Malice had just been about to jump into the conversation, when the door slid open again, and a kindly old woman with a cart full of treats inquired, "Anything from the cart, dears?"

"We'll take a bit of everything," said Malice and Harry at the same time, pulling out a handful of galleons.

They looked at each other and laughed, "Split the cost?"

~ O ~

So it turned out Ron shared Malice's love of food and being a layabout. The cabin received a fair few visitors ranging from the Weasley Twins, Draco Malfoy and two bookends named Crabbe and Goyle, and a girl with the bushiest hair Malice had ever seen. Honestly, how did the girl navigate the narrow corridors of the Express without getting it stuck on things was magical in and of itself. She was looking for a toad on behalf of the nervous looking Neville Longbottom.

Ron had just been about to demonstrate a spell his brothers taught him and that was when the first signs of trouble between Ron and Hermione appeared, especially when the girl showed off her prowess in magic, then left. Malice jokingly suggested adding a revolving door for their cabin given the amount of visitors they got.

Harry seemed fairly conversational, but only so long as Malice or Ron was the initiator. Ron in the meantime was excitable enough, but seemed wary with Malice, and the girl didn't miss how he tried to converse only with Harry where possible. She didn't know if it was because she was a girl, or because of her family. Either way, they passed the time quickly enough with idle conversations, simple games and munching on the snacks they'd bought.

Ron loved the snacks and sweets, but he had a slightly sour look every now and then.

When they reached Hogsmeade Station, they'd gotten dressed and Malice now could put a face to the name of Hagrid, thanks to Harry's retelling of a bit of his shopping experience, and she smiled up at the giant of a man. Most of the other First Years were a little intimidated by his size, but Malice had the benefit of both of her parents' kindly opinions of him.

She ended up in the boat with Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis and Seamus Finnigan. Holding the lantern for the boat, Malice saw the incredible castle ahead, lit up in the night sky. Professor McGonaggal was every bit the imposing figure that her parents said she was, and the magical ceiling was something to behold, though she really could have done without Hermione's continuous commentary about it all.

The moment of truth came, as she stood there amongst the other First Years. The Sorting ceremony.

"Match, Malice." said McGonaggal, and her name drew a few looks.

Even among Purebloods, her name was rather unusual, and a bit on the nose, especially if she lived up to it.

Any concerns about her being a vicious person was slightly assuaged when she tripped on the last step up the dais and faceplanted.

She was rather glad for the hat engulfing the majority of her head, so she could drown out the snickering and whispers.

(( Well well well, )) came a voice that sounded like it was within her head, and Malice realized quickly that it was the Sorting Hat itself, (( another Match in Hogwarts, at last. Marcus sure took his time, didn't he? ))

Figuring that she didn't need to speak aloud, Malice thought to the Hat that her father tried his best, and she was rewarded with a rumbling chuckle that only she could hear, and the Hat continued, (( All well and good. Now, where to put you, I wonder... ))

The Hat hewed and hawed a bit more before declaring, (( Yes, yes, a good fit for you would be Hufflepuff. You're extremely loyal, and despite your love of naps, you can be quite hardworking. Yes...so Hufflepuff it is. ))

(( No. )) was Malice's firm response.

She lifted the brim of the Hat to look over at the Slytherin table, and she said, (( Send me to Slytherin. ))

(( Are you sure, young lady? You would be on the outs with that lot before the night is over. Hufflepuff is where you would thrive. )) argued the Hat.

(( That is exactly why you should Sort me into Slytherin, )) retorted Malice, (( Slytherin could use more love, compassion and kindness. Hufflepuff cares for all but Slytherin. Let me be the Puff among the snakes. ))

(( Very well, if you're set on this course, )) said the Hat, and then he said aloud, "Better be, SLYTHERIN!"

~ O ~

The first night had been exhausting. Malice had honestly been surprised at how the girls seemed to have changed or shifted in personalities. Granted, she was never close with any of them in particular, but even so, she was still perplexed at some of the drastic changes. Daphne was suddenly no longer exuberant or energetic. Instead she just watched everyone with a calculative eye, and she no longer smiled freely.

Pansy was the opposite, and now began to talk a lot. Milicent had adopted a manner similar to Daphne, and would not speak unless spoken to first, and she seemed far too dour. Tracey gravitated towards Daphne, but made up for the blonde's silence with her own chatter, but she generally seemed to be aware of when words were unnecessary, unlike Pansy.

Draco was evidently miffed about being spurned by Harry's rejection to his offer of friendship, to which Malice spoke up, "Perhaps it was the way you offered your friendship."

"What?!" demanded Draco.

"We were all there," said Malice, "you insulted Ronald Weasley, and made fun of Neville Longbottom in front of him. And you saw us on the train. I...I don't think he understands our...customs."

This made Draco blink.

"He mentioned that his relatives are muggles," she went on, "and he said they never told him anything. So it stands to reason, he would not understand wizards, nor would he know anything about the Malfoys, or any other Pureblood families."

"So what do you suggest, Match?" asked Draco, "Should I follow him around and teach him about the proper people he should be mixing with?"

The sneer on his face told anyone just how distasteful he found such a task.

"Imagine if you got stuck in the Muggle world without your wand or any means to contact people from your world," said Malice, "would be nice if someone were around to help explain Muggle customs, wouldn't it?"

At this, other students who'd been listening in on the conversation showed looks of distaste at the mere notion, prompting Malice to roll her eyes, "It was just a scenario, unlikely as it may be for anybody."

"How about you, Match?" said Daphne, suddenly.

Malice blinked, "How about me what?"

Daphne spoke slowly, as if addressing a dimwit, "How about you helping Harry and teach him about wizarding customs, and how to navigate his way among us?"

"Yeah," said Tracey, "besides, you were in the same cabin with him for the whole ride, perhaps he'd be more receptive, wouldn't he?"

After thinking about it, the dark-haired girl nodded, "Yes, I suppose. It sounds an awful lot like work..."

"It was your idea," said Daphne bluntly, "you made the observation that Potter is clueless about wizards, which made him spurn an offer of friendship from a Malfoy, no matter how poorly executed said offer was."

Draco had been nodding approvingly until the last bit of Daphne's sentence caught up to his brain, "Hey!"

Daphne gave Draco a challenging look that dared him to dispute her statement, which he wisely did not rise to.

"Okay, fine!" huffed Malice, "I'll talk to him, and hopefully help him figure things out a bit better."

Just then, one of the prefects began to chase the first years to bed, though he honestly didn't have to put much effort into it, since most of them were truly worn out, Malice among them.

After a quick change, Malice's head hit the pillows, and she took a moment to ponder just what she'd agreed to and gotten herself involved in.

~ O ~

It wasn't until the next weekend that Malice actually got to speak with Harry again, and she had shucked her Slytherin colours and uniform in favour of something that she felt made her more approachable or appealing to Harry. Thanks to her father's Muggle associations, and all those visits to Muggle places, she knew how they dressed, so she had on a dark yellow blouse and jeans.

And a cute hat.

"What do you think?" asked Malice, looking at her little black kitten, Midnight.

The cat's response was to give a wide yawn, turn on her side, and sleep.

"Urgh!" cried Malice, "I wish I could do that too!"

But she agreed, and she felt honour-bound to perform her duty, no matter how much work was ultimately involved.

She'd already started something of a sort, through the week as it was. Evidently, not everyone understood or realized that they were only required to be at the designated House tables during the special events. Back in olden days, fraternizing between houses was permitted, and at times, encouraged. The news was redistributed when she had been seen sitting at the Ravenclaw table, then Hufflepuff the next day, and she made a point to get to know each student she spoke to.

The next few days saw students beginning to mix around, even other Slytherins, albeit quite reluctantly.

It wasn't all fun and games. Severus Snape was one very hostile man. He was only barely tolerant of Slytherin, and he was the Head of the House! But he had homed in on Harry from the start, and the bushy-haired Hermione was not helping things one bit by raising her hand as high as possible during Potions Class. Malice lightly elbowed her and tried to make her stop, but it still took Snape directly yelling at her to make her put her arm down.

After the first week was over, everyone was settling into the swing of things, so to speak, and for their first weekend off, Malice found Harry and some other Gryffindors were the only early folk to breakfast, and she settled across from him. Ron was nowhere in sight, but if Malice guessed right, he was likely having a sleep in.

"Morning Harry," greeted Malice, and he suddenly looked up, only now realizing she was seated in front of him.

"Oh, hi Malice," said Harry, "uhm...how'd you get such a name?"

"Blame my mother, and her name's Medusa."

"Uh...what's your father's?" asked Harry.

"Marcus," said Malice with a smirk, "were you perhaps hoping it would be Mephistopheles?"

"Who?"

Malice blinked, "Merlin, I think I've got my work cut out for me."

"What do you mean?" inquired the boy.

Sighing, Malice replied, "It's a lot to explain. But how much about the wizarding world are you familiar with as of now?"

"Not much," said Harry.

"Right, and has Ron been any help whatsoever, telling you about the differences between Muggle-Borns, Half-Bloods and Purebloods? Maybe explained about families of note, or Wizarding customs?"

"..." was Harry's response, and Malice put her head down.

"I thought so. Would you like to know about them? Maybe not look so pants at your knowledge?" she offered.

"I think I'd like that." he said.

The girl smiled, and nodded, "When you finish with breakfast, and you're not doing anything, meet me in the student commons. Preferably around ten."

She got up and headed out just as Ron made an appearance in the hall, and he gave her a quizzical look as he'd noticed her leaving from the Gryffindor table..

~ O ~

It became a sort routine for them from then on. Most weekends, Harry would meet with her in the Student Commons, or the library, where Hermione usually could be found too. The bushy-haired witch occasionally cast glances at them, and if they were near enough, she tried her best to pretend not to pay attention to whatever Malice was explaining to Harry, but she was definitely listening.

Whether it was accidental or by fate, Malice somehow ended up occupying Harry's time alone, and Ron was never around when she was with him. It never occurred to the girl that perhaps Harry had been deliberate about that. But either way, she'd always end up having him for an hour or two every weekend, and by proxy, Hermione, whenever she or they were nearby to each other, and she'd explain Wizarding customs, or show him spells, tricks and explaining the various families.

It was how one day, Harry attempted to bridge the gap he'd made with Draco Malfoy, dragging a horrified Ron with him to sit at the Slytherin table. Snape looked livid! McGonaggal looked pensive, and Dumbledore looked mildly intrigued.

But thanks to Tracey, Daphne, Pansy and Theodore Nott, they'd manage to break the ice, and got even Ron to open up when Pansy and Theodore playfully ribbed him about Gryffindor's chance at winning the Quidditch Cup this year. He'd proudly claimed that they would win, with Harry's help, who had somehow scored the position of Seeker for the Gryffindor team, despite being a First Year.

"You're gonna, right?" he all but begged between mouthfuls of food.

"For Merlin's sake, Weasley, chew!" barked Draco.

"Wha's wong wif-way he's eafin?" asked Malice between mouthfuls herself.

At this, most of the Slytherin table broke into laughter.

Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, certainly didn't like the idea of the "enemy" sharing a table with them, but one of the Seventh Years muttered something to him, and whatever was said had the older boy nodding and looking thoughtfully at the two Gryffindors.

The conversations ebbed and flowed at a relaxed pace, and almost nobody sat at their house tables anymore. It certainly made the place look haphazard when it came to uniform colours, but Malice thought it looked nice, people were making friends they wouldn't otherwise have, if they stayed in one place.

Hermione had found the Ravenclaws to be quite an engaging bunch.

"Well, hello Ronnikins," said one of the twins, Malice honestly couldn't tell which one, but he had one arm bracing against the table, while the other was on Ron's shoulder, "Imagine our surprise..."

"...when we went looking for our dear brother..." said the other twin, resting his arm on Ron's free shoulder.

"...only to find him cavorting in greener pastures." They finished together.

"Oh sod off you two," said Ron, though he sounded strained and almost terrified.

Malice noticed how his hands covered his plate protectively, and the tiny witch frowned. Something was up with them, and Ron seemed afraid of whatever it was they'd do to his food.

"Did you hear that, George?" asked Fred.

"I most certainly did, Fred," said George, a hand over his heart, "wounded, by our own brother. We see how it is."

"And here we thought he'd miss our company," said Fred.

"Well, he can't miss it if you're here with him, now, can he?" asked Malice, piping up for the first time in a while. More to everyone's surprise, and even her own, she'd moved to stand beside the twins, having decided to take her life and fate into her own hands, "c'mon, there's space for you over here."

With a gentle tug on their arms, and their befuddlement, she managed to coax them to sit across the table, having shooed Blaise and Theodore a bit further along, and the Slytherin table, for the first time in recorded history, sat three Weasleys.

It wasn't perfect, if Ron's bemused face was anything to go by, but at least he had them right where he could see. But Malice decided she needed to talk about that.

~ O ~

"Weasley twins!" called Malice the next day.

"Fred?" asked George.

"Yes George?" replied Fred.

"Is it just me, or do you think a certain little snake is calling us?"

"The one who took an inordinate amount of time to be sorted? Why, yes, George, I do believe she is calling us." said Fred.

"Do you think we should turn around now?" asked George.

"I believe if we do, we will find her directly behind us, quite impatient and annoyed."

"Right then, on three. One, two, three."

Malice grinned, her mother's little trick worked! She'd cast the charm that threw her voice, and when the twins turned around, it was to find nobody at all. Malice took that opportunity to walk up quietly, and cleared her throat.

George turned first and blinked owlishly at her, then he smiled. A moment later, Fred too, had turned around.

"Well, colour us impressed," said George, "Ventriloquism spell?"

"Something like that. Pretty useful for disorienting people, and setting them up for surprises." Replied Malice.

"Utterly brilliant, o lovely little serpent," said Fred, "but did you call us only to show off that little charm? You know we're going to figure it out soon."

"No, actually," said Malice, "I heard you're fond of pranks, and that giving as good as they get might just impress you."

"It did," both replied.

"Good. I hope we can have a quick talk then, about your brother."

Fred grinned at George, "Percy certainly has a stick up his bum, but you're not already irritated with him, are you?"

"No, brother mine," said George, "me thinks the little Slytherin is referring to our recently graduated brother, Charlie."

"Ronald Weasley, and my name is Malice, or Mal, if you prefer." said Malice with a patient smile.

"Ah, young Ronnikins!" exclaimed Fred, "Imagine that! Only eleven, and already he has a young crush, no wonder he was at the Slytherin table yesterday."

Malice blinked for a moment, then shook her head, "No, I do not. But...could you tell me why he covered his plate with his hands the moment you both showed up, and then kept an eagle eye on you throughout the rest of the meal while at the table?"

At that, the twins exchanged some slightly abashed looks with one another, "That may have to do with the one..."

"...or a dozen..." said Fred.

"...times we put something in his meals. Usually trying out harmless stuff."

"They change hair colour, or your voice, or your appearance." Added Fred.

"Is that why he eats every meal like it's going to be his last?"

More embarrassed looks, and Malice rolled her eyes, "What if you had...a willing test subject instead of your brother?"

"Fred, could you check my ear, please?" said George, "I think I heard wrong."

Fred peered through his brother's ear, and said, "I can still see the other side, George, but no, I think you heard rightly," he looked down at Malice, "Are you seriously making this offer, Mal?"

"Yes, yes I am. But!"

"Ah, of course, there's a but in it." said George.

"I expected so," said Fred, "what's the but?"

"Do let your brother eat in peace, and let him know it," said Malice, "oh, and I will give as good as I get, whenever I get the opportunity."

"Oh she is an ambitious snake, all right," said Fred.

"Don't you know that Slytherins are all about ambition and cunning, Fred?" asked George, "Of course she's ambitious."

Malice looked at them for a while, and beckoned them closer with a finger, "The Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Hufflepuff, actually. I asked to be put in Slytherin."

For some reason, this made Fred and George even more nervous.

~ O ~

So the Weasley twins got the better end of the deal, after all. Malice did get one or two pranks back on them, but nowhere near the amount they got on her. But she learnt a lot of valuable things about herself. For one, she looked terrible as a blonde, and she did a great impression of a guinea pig. And she was so, so very done with caviar. It was fine when just the toast tasted like it. But when the pudding, cake, potatoes and even pumpkin juice tasted like caviar? That was a little over the top.

Still, after the twins had informed Ron they now had a willing test subject, he had slowly begun to eat less like a man starved, though he still had a fair ways to go in table manners.

Problems brewed on Halloween night though, when Ron evidently put his feet in his mouth again by making rude and insensitive remarks where Hermione could hear. The girl was clearly distraught and had shoved between Harry and Ron on her way out. Although Hermione now had some Ravenclaws she liked to talk to, she really didn't seem to connect with anyone, leaving her technically, friendless.

As opposed to Malice, who had a network of friends in all four houses. In Slytherin, she didn't talk much, but she was always paying attention. A little-known talent of hers was forging or writing in multiple styles. Whenever anyone was down, or upset, or just clearly needed encouragement, she'd either personally give them the encouragement, or she'd write a message on a cute little hand-made card, and usually put treats. Chocolates always made people feel better.

She'd been thinking of sending something to Hermione when Professor Quirrel, a rather incompetent teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts, came rushing in screaming about a troll in the dungeons. And then fainted.

This was their Defense Professor.

Malice plonked her head down on the table. A second later, pandemonium erupted, and it took the Headmaster, with a magically assisted spell, to get all the fleeing students to stop and look back. "Everyone will please, not panic!" he said firmly.

"Now, prefects will lead their house back to the dormitories," he continued, "teachers, will follow me to the dungeons."

Malice had a much more pressing concern, so she jumped up on the bench she'd been still sitting on when everyone else panicked, "OY!"

This caused the students to pause again, given the tiny witch had rarely ever shouted so loudly, "Did everyone forget that Professor Quirrel said the troll was in the dungeons?!"

At the frowns, Malice glared back, "Slytherin's dorms are in the dungeons! And Hufflepuff isn't all that far away from us!" she looked over at the Headmaster, "Do you want to send us to face the troll?"

After a moment's thought, Dumbledore palmed his face and shook his head, "My deepest apologies, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff, please remain at your table, Professors Sprout and Sinistra, remain here and guard the entrance to the hall. In the meantime, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw, proceed to your dormitories, you will be much safer there."

As half the hall emptied out, Dumbledore followed up the rear, and paused beside Malice, who'd just climbed off the bench, and she looked up at the Headmaster in surprise, "Twenty points to Slytherin, for safeguarding your fellow students and pointing out a near fatal mistake on my part."

Malice blushed, but smiled, and the man's eyes twinkled, before he went off to deal with the troll.

"That could have been a disaster," said Tracey, "thanks Mal!"

"Yeah, thanks!" said Pansy.

Draco shrugged his shoulders and grudgingly admitted, "It would have been a near thing, if you hadn't pointed it out."

"So, are we going to just leave him like that, then?" asked Cedric Diggory at the Hufflepuff table, and everyone in the hall turned to look at Quirrel, still unconscious on the floor.

"Oh goodness me, we really quite forgot all about him!" said Pomona Sprout as she and Sinistra bustled over to revive the Defense Professor.

~ O ~

It was a fair bit later when the professors returned, and the students were informed the troll had been found and dealt with, and that it was now safe for them to return to their dorms. Malice was able to wheedle out of the twins the next day, while they worked to undo the extent of their latest prank making her honk like a goose. And while they talked, she'd managed to cast a charm silently that tied up their shoelaces together.

But to her shock, the troll had not been in the dungeons, but rather, it made its way to the girl's lavatory on the Third Floor. Where Hermione had been, and Ron and Harry had managed to save her life.

She grinned as she bid farewell to the twins and walked away, then heard the two boys going down in a heap rather noisily.

"Oh, good one, Mal!" shouted Fred.

"But you know we've got more in store for you next week right?" said George.

"Looking forward to it, boys!" said Malice with a backwards wave.

Next week meant sometime in the middle in Weasley Twins talk. They hoped to make her nervous, wary and alert for the next prank, but the girl was honestly not going to sweat it. She agreed to this, and it certainly made her days quite interesting.

When she was not getting pranked by the twins, she was spending weekends with Harry. They became a bit sporadic after the incident with the troll, and Harry's involvement with the Quidditch team. Harry, Ron and Hermione grew closer, understandably, and in some unspoken agreement, Harry and Malice only ever met in the absence of Ron and Hermione.

She didn't question it, but was simply accepting of the arrangement. She didn't realize it then, but feelings were already beginning to grow in the girl, for this unusual bespectacled boy. She wasn't quite sure why, yet, but like with most things, she never pondered about it too hard. Midnight, her cat, spent most of her days just lounging around, sleeping and eating, and it was a wonder how the feline never grew fat. Though the same could be asked of Malice, whose only rival in appetite was Ron Weasley.

It was the following year, after the last exams, Ron and Harry ended up in the Hospital Wing. Nobody knew for sure what had happened, but everyone took note of Professor Quirrel's absence, and rumours and wild speculation built around what happened. The poor lads. Malice had sent them both lots of candies and well wishes.

Ron recovered sooner, and had been quite happy to have received cards and treats. He also helped himself to a few of Harry's. It was a bit hard to visit Harry when he was alone. Even unconscious, the boy had a fair few people popping in at all hours.

Coincidentally, she'd wound up in the hospital wing herself in need of treatment. Evidently, the Weasley Twins thought they'd go off with a bang for the end of term, and gave her the mother of all pranks. It would have been funny, except the arm that turned into a pretzel art piece was her wand arm, so she really needed that fixed and it was a little beyond their ability to undo. So this was either a very brilliant piece of spellwork, or extremely dangerous.

They were apologetic about it, of course, and took the girl's half-hearted retaliation with aplomb. She'd managed to actually cast with her right hand, a family spell that induced flatulence, only it came out both the back, and the front, and if there were any fires nearby...

While she'd been getting her arm restored to normal, Harry had awakened, and received a visit from the Headmaster himself. He'd cast some sort of privacy charm, so that made it all but impossible for her to hear, but Malice had mastered a little lip-reading, and learned a fair bit from the conversation.

Now that he was awake, she decided to drop in just before curfew to see if she could talk to Harry alone, without visitors.

To her fortune, the matron was nowhere in sight, and Harry was still there, presumably to recover his strength a bit more before being discharged. He seemed partway to sleep, but also partly restless. She snuck in, and quietly settled into the chair by his bed, watching him for a moment.

Suddenly, she was greeted by brilliant green eyes, unhindered by his glasses, and she idly wondered if he could see clearly enough without them.

"Who's there?" said Harry in a soft, slightly groggy voice.

"It's Malice, Harry," answered the girl.

"Oh...hi."

He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, and reached for his glasses by the bedside. Once he put them on, he looked at her more clearly. She was still wearing her uniform and robes, and Midnight was softly purring on her lap.

"I almost never see you in your uniform," said Harry, "I'd almost forgotten you're actually in Slytherin."

"Doesn't help that I'm almost never at the Slytherin table, does it?" replied the girl.

"Quite right," agreed Harry, "why though?"

"Why what?" asked Malice, though she suspected she knew what the question really was.

"Why are you almost never at the Slytherin table, or with Slytherin students?"

She chewed her lip for a moment, and then slowly gave her explanation. "To the outside viewer, I suppose it looks that way, doesn't it? But I'm not ashamed of my house, or have trouble with my House, no. Quite the opposite, really."

She stroked her cat lightly, "But in truth, I spend far more of my time with my Housemates than people realize. The only time I'm not with the Slytherins is in the Great Hall, or on weekends with you. But that's also something I did because...well, because I wanted you and others to know me as Malice Match, a girl from Matching, Essex, who likes long naps, warm hugs, and food. Not Malice of Slytherin."

He smiled and nodded, "That is how I see you, Mal. Just Malice."

She returned his smile, "And I see you as just Harry. Not the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry the Brave, or Harry the Gryffindor. I hope that we will always see each other in this way, our true selves."

"I think I can manage that..." said Harry, "...like it, even."

"Me too," said Malice, "I'll always be your friend, and here whenever you need."

"Thank you...and uh...thanks for not asking how I am," he said suddenly.

Malice laughed softly, "I did see the gaggle of admirers who'd come in one after another through the day, I figured that would be the one question you were tired of hearing."

"I really was."

She smiled again, then sighed, looking at the small timepiece she had, "I had better get going, the rotation of prefects would be shifting, and it's near curfew. I'll see you at the farewell feast?"

"Yeah," said Harry, looking mildly disappointed that Malice couldn't stay longer.

"We'll write to each other, okay?" said Malice, "Can't very well let you forget everything about us wizards, and undo all my work on you."

He chuckled and then nodded, "I think I'd like that. Hedwig would love to see you too."

"That owl is far too smart to be normal," said Malice, remembering the bird's soul-piercing gaze.

"Yeah, she is."

"Well, good night, Harry." the girl picked up her napping kitten, and rose from the chair.

"Good night, Mal." he replied, and he watched her slip out of the wing.

~ O ~

"He's so handsome..." said Tracey in a dreamy tone.

Looking up from where she sat, at the Slytherin table, Malice followed Tracey, Pansy and even Daphne's gaze over to the professors' table, where one Gilderoy Lockhart sat, preening and grinning away almost like a loon. Also, the looks of her female friends were imitated at almost every table, even Hermione!

What caught Malice's attention however, was the absence of Harry and Ron.

She was perturbed by this. She couldn't find them in the train, and all her letters to Harry went unanswered. Admittedly, that hurt a lot more than she expected. She'd relayed what she learned about Voldemort and his being still alive in some form to her parents, who while they had grave looks, seemed relatively unsurprised by the revelation, and just advised Malice to be wary in school, and they were neither encouraging nor discouraging about her friendship with Harry.

On that matter, they simply told her to do what she felt was right.

Well, she'd tried, and tried, and tried. But none of her owls ever brought back a return letter from the boy, and she wondered if perhaps he found her annoying. She had to know, so she sought him out in the train, only to find no one had seen him, or Ron. And even Hermione was perplexed by it. Though she said she'd joined up with Harry and the Weasleys during their shopping trip to Diagon Alley, and Harry seemed fine when she saw him. A little underfed, but otherwise fine.

So where is he?! Wondered the witch as the new batch of First Years got Sorted. There was yet another Weasley joining the school. She watched, bemused as Ginny was Sorted into Gryffindor. The day a Weasley was Sorted into any other house, chaos and entropy would likely ensue.

A thunderous Snape entered the Hall, cape billowing behind him like strange wings, and behind him followed a very sheepish but also relieved looking Ron and Harry, and Malice felt a mixture of emotions upon seeing him, and apparently, Hermione shared those feelings, if her stern expression was anything to go by.

She wanted very much to go over and talk to her friend right then, but when her stomach audibly growled, startling Draco and Millicent, she decided maybe she needed to take care of that first.

She would talk to him later.

~ O ~

Turned out, she didn't need to look for Harry.

It had only been a few days later, when he came looking for her. She tried her best to hide a pleased smile at hearing him calling for her as they passed a deserted corridor. "Malice! Malice!"

Taking a moment to school her expression to something akin to Daphne's neutral mask, she turned around to look at him and did a Hedwig soul-piercing impersonation, "Harry?"

Just how far had he run? He was panting and doubled over on his knees. But a moment later, he was back up, and looking at her, "I'm sorry. Your letters...I never got them."

She wasn't expecting that, honestly. "What?"

Having recovered his breath, Harry talked a little more calmly, "During the summer, there was this crazy house elf, called himself Dobby. He'd been stealing every letter sent by anyone to me...so if you'd written anything to me..."

"I did," said Malice, "many times."

"Right, well, I never got them, because of this mad house elf."

Nodding, Malice saw no deceit in his eyes, and really, it was quite a wild notion, but Harry never struck her as the kind to make stuff up. And furthermore, the name Dobby sounded familiar. Something for her to check on later.

"How'd you know he was stealing your letters?" asked Malice.

"He told me, showed me a whole stack of them," his face dropped into a scowl, "tried to use that as a ransom to convince me not to come to Hogwarts, for some reason."

"Really peculiar behaviour for a house elf," said Malice, "I have a fair few, and none of them would ever even think of behaving in such a way to a wizard."

Harry knew a thing or two about house elves thanks to Malice, but even the girl had never heard of such aberrant behaviour with the diminutive beings. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to tell you everything I wrote to you."

"Only if it's not a bother," said Harry sheepishly.

"Not at all," replied Malice, smiling.

~ O ~

Ron was not having a good time at all. Malice had been at the Ravenclaw table when Seamus announced that Ron had a Howler. Everyone heard the amplified voice of Mrs. Weasley. Boy, was she ever so harsh, not to mention the humiliation of having his antics announced for the whole school to hear. The tiny witch frowned. It really wasn't nice, and she doubted she'd ever be able to show her face anywhere in school if any of her parents did the same thing to her.

So she'd surreptitiously inquired of the twins what kind of candies and treats Ron likes, and sent him some chocolate frogs, jelly candies and even a selection of her favourite Muggle gummy candies with a small note saying: "Don't feel so bad. At least you got yourself and Harry to school! Enjoy the candies!"

She'd seen him getting some pep back into him after that, and smiled.

She wondered how Ron was going to get through the school year with a broken wand though, and sent an inquiry on the hazards of using a broken wand to Ollivander himself. The wandmaker made an appearance at Hogwarts the next day, and later that evening, Ron was grinning away at his own brand new wand, which looked very fancy and seemed to be quite powerful, since it was suited to him personally.

It helped that there had been a tiny sum provided so Ron only needed to add one sickle to the remainder of the cost. And if Malice had her way, he would never ever know who his benefactor was.

The twins had resumed their little side project of trying out new prank products on her. She figured out for herself they were obviously working on building their own market, and she began to offer her opinion on what she thought might be a bit too dangerous, or genuinely funny.

Things went swimmingly for the time being. Malice slowly grew closer to her housemates, and she and Harry continued their little routine of meeting privately whenever possible, usually on the weekends. And while loath to visit any Quidditch matches, she was pressured by Draco and Pansy until she gave in, and then she was glad she came. Because once again, someone was endangering Harry's life!

It came in the form of a rogue bludger this time, and almost no one seemed inclined to interfere with the game even though it was obvious something was wrong.

She'd watched with sheer exasperation as Harry raced around trying to catch the snitch and avoid getting pancaked by the bludger. It smashed through the spectator stands when Malice finally had enough and drew her wand out with her left hand, and began to track the bludger. She'd finally locked on to it when Harry caught the snitch, but his arm was clearly broken.

She'd picked up a list of creative spells, and some practical ones that she learned outside of class, but nothing particularly efficient for stopping a bludger on a one-track mind quest to obliterate Harry! She finally hit on one spell that might work, as Harry was off his broom and still trying to avoid getting flattened further by this mad bludger.

She hadn't even realized she'd long since left the stands and was on the field, across from her, Hagrid, Hermione and Ron were also rushing to the scene, both girls aiming their wands at the ball.

"Immobulus!" cried Malice just as Hermione shouted, "Finite Incantatem!"

Perhaps it was because of the combination of spells and magic aimed at it, or perhaps one of them did the trick, but either way, the bludger trembled in the air for a split second, and then exploded in a brilliant shower of sparks and pieces.

By now, practically the whole field was covered by students and teachers, and Malice all but got shoved out of the way. Unfortunately, the one who'd shoved her aside had been Lockhart, and he was already trying to "help" Harry with his own array of spells.

Due to her possibly being the shortest girl in her age group, Malice couldn't see a thing, but she spotted the twins, and immediately, without even asking for permission, clambered on his back to look over his head. If Flophart hadn't been a Professor, Malice would have hexed his dangly bits off herself for what he did to Harry's arm. Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey reached them at last before the arse of a man could do more damage. What part of Harry's repeated "No!" did Flophart fail to comprehend?!

"Well, my dear brother," said Fred, after all the excitement died down, "what do you suppose you want to do with your extra baggage there?"

Malice boggled at when she learned to tell Fred and George apart, but evidently, she now knew for certain she'd climbed on George's back.

"Baggage?" said George, "What baggage?"

He idly reached behind me to find Malice's sides and began to tickle her.

With a loud yelp and squeak, she quickly let go of the older boy and jumped back, "I just wanted to see what damage that arse Flophart did to Harry."

Evidently, her voice was a bit louder than intended, and said arse was near enough to hear that...along with half the professors and the remaining half of the student body, from every house. Flophart had turned around and frowned, but the twins, along with Crabbe and Goyle had abruptly closed in and all but hemmed the girl in from all sides, and they started chattering audibly, drowning out all outside voices.

When did Crabbe and Goyle learn words like discombobulated and extenuating circumstances?!

Between the mass of bodies, Malice noted Pomfrey lightly but firmly guiding Flophart away, probably to demand explanations on what he'd done to the Gryffindor Seeker. When the coast was clear, the twins and the bookends let the girl free again, but Professor Flitwick could be heard saying "Five points to Slytherin for accurate assessment of a person."

Wow, was her opinion of Flophart shared even by the professors?

The students of all other Houses grinned at her and a few gave her a thumbs up.

So that was a yes, then.

~ O ~

So Harry was a Parseltongue.

What was the big deal?

The Hufflepuffs had begun to act real terrified of Harry. Sure, all those messages and the petrifications were certainly not helping. But anybody with a lick of sense could tell Harry was not behind these things. But Malice picked up a great deal of things from her private meetings with Harry. And Harry learned a few things from her too.

For one, she found out just who Dobby was, after he'd visited Harry again in the Hospital Wing, trying to persuade Harry to leave Hogwarts. She'd only been to Malfoy Manor a few times, but she'd remembered Draco and Lucius calling on the house elf at least once. She relayed this to Harry, though it still didn't help very much. They just knew he was the culprit behind it.

Malice promised to privately inquire of Draco what he knew of his father's dealings and what plans he had for Hogwarts. Though Draco and Harry were at best acquaintances with a relatively cool temperament towards each other, nobody would ever mistake them as friends. What she learned was not very helpful, but it saved Harry, Hermione and Ron from making and using Polyjuice to impersonate Slytherins to directly inquire of Drac. Turned out, Lucious had not told anything to his son, or Draco was much, much better at lying than she'd ever seen.

Malice's teachings on Wizarding Customs, and knowledge on who's who could only do so much. Harry still had to make the choice himself as to whether he wanted to associate with them. For the most part, he had much better relations with the Weasley Clan, Longbottom, Bones and Abbott, though after what happened at the Dueling Club, the latter two were suddenly a bit distant. Malice made a note to give them a stern talking to and remind them about their own House Tenets.

It also helped when Harry finally mentioned he had heard voices in the walls that only he could hear.

"Well," said Malice, "we all recently learned you're a Parseltongue."

Harry looked away and frowned when she mentioned it, and the girl sighed, "Harry, look at me. Please?"

He did, and she smiled, "That's not a bad thing, no matter what people may say or think."

"Tell that to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws." muttered the boy.

"The ones who are truly your friends will come around," assured Malice, "and those who don't? Do you really care what they think? Do they affect your life?"

He quietly acquiesced to her argument, then looked back at his books. The Student Commons were quite empty this evening. Only the Grey Lady was seated nearby, turning pages of an ethereal book. That was something Malice reminded herself she needed to ask the ghost about. They could pull out a ghostly copy of physical books? And how the heck did Professor Binns mark student papers?

"Still surprises me that the Slytherins had not made any remarks towards me about being the heir." said Harry.

Malice blinked, then blushed, "Well, that was partly my doing," she admitted, "I mean, I just pointed out how ridiculous it was as a notion. Any Pureblood worth their salt would have done research into your family line and found you probably trace closer to any of the Founders but one: Salazar Slytherin. And even if you did descend from the Emerald Sorcerer himself, then you would have had at least a fair few ancestors who were noted Parseltongues, and there's another factor many seemed to forget."

He waited for her to continue, so she did, "You could have had ancestors from outside of England who had the gift. I know India, China and the Middle East have wizards and witches with the talent, who are highly sought after for their ability to deal with serpentine creatures, like occamies, dragons, and basilisks..."

She trailed off as she mentioned the last creature, her eyes going distant as she tried to recall everything she knew about that creature.

"Malice?" called Harry, and the girl looked back at him.

"Harry, what if the creature you can hear in the walls...is some sort of very large snake?"

Dawning realization appeared on Harry's face, "That would explain how come only I could hear it, if I speak Parseltongue."

"It really would. But basilisks kill with their gaze...I'm sorry, I have to go to the library!"

As Malice retreated from the room, she heard Harry's mirthless chuckle and a comment about Hermione being a fellow bookworm.

Funnily enough, Hermione was in the library too, searching through volumes of tomes. A quick look at the titles on the sides told her that Hermione was after the same thing, so she did not waste time and cleared her throat in front of the bushy-haired witch. It took two more attempts before Hermione looked up, in irritation.

"What is it?" was the terse inquiry.

"Basilisk," said Malice.

Blinking, Hermione looked around at the tomes, and snatched up one of them to look through it, flipping pages rapidly but carefully. "As far as I know a basilisk's gaze kills, and a Cockatrice petrifies. But is there..."

Hermione held a hand up, forestalling Malice's question, and the dark-haired witch waited, "A direct look into a basilisk's eyes will kill. However, seeing its gaze through a reflection, or glass, mitigates the power, reducing it to petrification."

"Hermione, you're brilliant!" said Malice, grinning, "That explains what happened to all of those petrified so far. Creevey was seeing it through his camera lens, Mrs. Norris must have looked down at the reflection in the water, and Justin was seeing through the ghost of Nicholas!"

"Those were really lucky," said Hermione, "we need to be careful."

"Agreed," said Malice, "you need to get this to Harry immediately. He can speak Parseltongue! So the voice that only he can hear must be this basilisk!"

Hermione nodded, chewing her lip, and Malice frowned, "Hermione? What's wrong?"

Suddenly the girl tore the page out of the book, about the basilisk. Malice widened her eyes.

"What are you doing?!" the girl squeaked.

"Just in case," said Hermione, and she crumpled the paper tightly into her fist, "we've barely been able to catch hold of any information about what's been happening this year, one way or another, we make sure someone finds out."

"Okay, fair enough. Let's go." said Malice and as she neared the door, Hermione caught her on the shoulder.

"Why are you helping?" asked the girl, peering closely at Malice, "What's in it for you?"

Malice idly wondered what Harry told his two closer friends just how he knew that Draco was not involved in whatever Lucius was planning. She figured there were reasons he never tried to bring Malice into the group, or maybe she was overthinking things. But she answered Hermione simply, "Self-preservation, Hermione. This creature is dangerous, and no matter what people think about the whole Heir of Slytherin nonsense, a basilisk can kill indiscriminately."

Nodding, Hermione accepted her explanation. Then snapped off a button from her uniform and transfigured it into a mirror. She gave it to Malice, "Before we walk around corners, use this to see what's there."

"You're really brilliant, you know that?" said Malice, and Hermione blushed, but looked pleased at the compliment.

"Okay, let's go." Hermione led the way this time, holding her own mirror, and Malice followed behind.

They were slow going, but using the mirrors to peer around corners guaranteed a safe passage. However, just as they reached the second floor staircase, the door to the unused girl's lavatory opened and Hermione retreated back around the corner, pushing Malice with her. "Nobody ever uses that bathroom," said Hermione.

"Well someone did!" said Malice.

"Better just take a quick peek," Hermione leaned sideways around the corner and looked into the mirror.

Whatever she saw made the girl freeze, and Malice, overcome with curiosity, stood in front of Hermione, leaning out a little like her, and the last thing she saw in the mirror was Ginny Weasley standing in front of a large monstrous snake with large yellow eyes.

~ O ~

When Malice came to, she found out she had been petrified for a little over three weeks. And she heaved a sigh of relief. She'd seen the basilisk! And Ginny Weasley for some reason. When Hermione froze it wasn't out of horror, the girl realized, but because she'd been petrified. That will teach me not to recognize the signs, thought Malice.

In an interesting reversal of roles, it was Harry who came to visit her near curfew.

"Hey Harry," said Malice tiredly. Her cat, Midnight, was curled contentedly by her side. She carefully moved so as to not disturb the feline too much, though Midnight honestly could sleep through an earthquake just like Malice. It was just as well she hadn't fallen completely asleep, when she saw Harry's silhouette.

"Do you reckon this is going to be a regular thing for us?" asked Harry, "Meeting at night in the Hospital Wing?"

Malice chuckled, "Merlin, I hope not."

"Me too."

"Well," said Malice, "if we do this next year, then it's probably fated to be."

Nearby, Hermione stirred and turned over to the other side of the bed. She'd been awakened just before Malice was, but Pomfrey was keeping them all for observation one more night.

"That was brilliant thinking on both of you," said Harry.

"It was mostly Hermione," said Malice evenly.

"But you were the one who mentioned it and put her on to the right creature almost immediately," insisted the boy, "and you both used mirrors to try and get around the place, another brilliant idea."

"That one was all Hermione," said Malice, "as for the basilisk...I've always been fond of studying the creatures of the world, both Muggle and magical. It's why I'm going to apprentice myself to Hagrid if he's willing, when I'm older. I want to learn about all the creatures."

Harry smiled at her, and said, "I think you're going to do great at it."

"Magizoology," said Malice, "I'll follow in the footsteps of Newt Scamander."

She glanced over at Harry, looking wistful, then asked, "Would you be willing to tell me what I've missed out on over the last few weeks? I know it was pretty eventful."

"That's one way to put it," said Harry, but he launched into a quiet explanation of the events of the last few weeks.

It seemed Hagrid was falsely accused of releasing the monster of the Chamber of Secrets (which she later learned was located in the second floor girl's bathroom, which explained why Ginny and the basilisk emerged from there), and Harry's encounter with an ancient acromantula named Aragog, and Mr. Weasley's now-feral Ford Angola magic car.

Also, learning that a Pureblood like Malice got petrified shut down any further delusions of anybody that the Heir of Slytherin cared in the slightest about blood purity for good. And most people had finally begun to drop their fear of Harry, because why on Earth would he want to harm his own closest friend? And Malice? Well, she'd been seen around his company often enough that anyone who was not Ron or Hermione would be able to figure that Harry wouldn't want to kill Malice for any logical reason.

Ginny had apparently fallen prey to a strange book that carried a bloody portion of Voldemort somehow! But on the bright side, Dobby was free of Lucius Malfoy, through a cunning trick by Harry using the very book that Lucius gave to Ginny, which was now quite thoroughly ruined, with Harry having stabbed it through with a basilisk fang.

"It was a lucky thing Fawkes was there, huh?" said Malice.

"Yeah, bloody lucky, really," agreed Harry.

And Flophart was an even bigger fraud than Malice ever realized. It seemed he admitted that everything in his books were actually the deeds of other people, whom he obliviated and took credits for their deeds. The one thing he was good at was the Memory Charm. By a stroke of luck, Ron had a habit of keeping his old broken, spellotaped wand in his pocket. Probably sentimental reasons, but whatever the case, when he and Harry had confronted Flophart, Ron mistakenly drew out his broken wand, which the ponce made a grab for when they had descended into the Chamber.

He tried to cast an overpowered Obliviate spell, and it backfired so hard into him. Now the man had lost virtually all his memories, and was a barely functioning gibbon. Strangely, he still liked to give autographs. But the basilisk was an unfortunate creature. Harry had tried to speak with it in Parseltongue. But the contradictory commands being issued by two Speakers eventually sent it into a frenzied rage. Harry really had no choice then but to kill it.

She reached out to comfort him. "It's not easy, killing anything sentient, but I don't think you had much of a choice, Harry," said Malice, "It had been alone for centuries, maybe millennia, and that can do things to a mind."

"Yeah," said Harry, "I figured it might have been a friend...if not for Voldemort."

He blinked when he noticed that Malice didn't flinch at his name, and the girl smiled, "I know people tend to react to his name, but I personally see no reason to it. Now at least..."

"What do you mean?"

"Back at the height of the war," began Malice, "Voldemort struck fear into people by placing a magical Taboo on his name. Anyone who said it created a signal that Death Eaters could Apparate to, almost right on top of them. That was why many people until today dare not speak his name. It's safe enough to speak while here in Hogwarts, though, or if you're hidden behind a Fidelius. And since he's gone for now, I don't think the Taboo works as long as he does not have his own physical body, and as long as his Death Eaters are keeping a low profile."

Harry nodded at this revelation, then frowned, "Wait, gone for now...? You know?!"

Malice brushed strands of her hair behind her ear, "Yes...I apologize, Harry. Last year, when Headmaster Dumbledore came to speak with you, although he used a Silencing Charm, he didn't make his mouth appear blurry, meaning I could read his and your lips...I know that Voldemort's not dead, and he might still come back. I mean, you just told me you confronted a solid memory of him somehow...that's twice now that tosser's put your life in danger in the 'safest place in England'."

"Wonder what I'd have to do for a quiet year..." mused Harry.

Malice patted his hand, "Might be a bit much to ask, but boundless optimism never hurts. Oh, so what are you going to do with Dobby then?"

"Pardon?"

"You set Dobby free, so what are you going to do to keep him alive?"

"Excuse me?!" Harry's voice rose ever so slightly, to indicate his alarm.

"Oh dear...Harry, a House Elf cannot survive without being bound to a wizard or Witch, or at the least, a magical house or structure. But if you leave them alone, they'll go mad, wither, and die."

"H-how long before that happens?" stammered the boy.

Malice took a breath and thought about it, "I'd say about two, or three days, maximum. From the moment they are freed, they begin to experience a growing pain that grows steadily more potent by the hour, and then they will weaken. If by the third day they still breathe, they're usually better off dead by that point. You need to bind him to you or someone, or he will die."

"He seemed fine when I saw him, he...he even repelled Lucius from me when he tried to attack."

Malice thought about that, "Well, Dobby seems to be very unique for a House Elf, far more independent thought in him than any elf I've ever seen. But this whole magical tether thing is ingrained in every single House Elf. There is no exceptions. Maybe he was hiding his pain from you, Harry, but I have no doubt that he is suffering even now. At best, he might be able to leech off some magical dependence on House Malfoy, like a temporary magical shield or buffer to stave off the effects. Or he can hide somewhere like in Hogwarts, that is so full of magic he can bleed off some excess...but all this is temporary, and not a permanent solution."

She explained further, "In ancient times, House Elves were known by some other name, and were related to brownies, pixies and possibly even redcaps, because it was a little known fact they were actually much taller, more powerful and very, very wicked."

Harry's mouth dropped as he learned about this, Malice continued, "They actually terrorized goblins and humans alike. Until Merlin came upon a solution that took them out of warfare forevermore. He infected them with a magical malady. It didn't appear in the first generation, but the ensuing ones after them. They couldn't survive unless they were magically bound to the very beings they once sought to kill and enslave."

She laughed bitterly, "A bit ironic, but yes, now they themselves had to be willingly enslaved in order to ensure their own survival. Over the generations, they grew slighter and smaller in stature, until they became the beings we now know as house elves. That malady was cast by Merlin himself upon the entire race. There is no breaking the spell, and moreover, nobody wants to. Releasing them could mean reawakening the conqueror race within them. And remember, the combined might of humans and goblins could not slow down their onslaught."

Nodding, Harry took a moment to think this all through, and he finally called, "Dobby."

There was a soft snapping noise, and Dobby appeared, standing on the bed between Malice and Harry. He was trembling and his eyes showed pain even as he smiled, "M-m-master H-Harry Potter...sir...calls Dobby?"

"Bloody hell, Dobby, why didn't you say anything?!" exclaimed Harry, though he was still mindful not to raise his voice.

"M-Master Harry...g-great wizard...Dobby is not worthy of asking...Dobby is happy...Dobby is free."

Malice frowned, "But you will die..."

The house elf nodded, "Dobby...a-accepts that."

"Well I don't," said Harry crossly, "Dobby, will you be my House Elf?"

"Su-such a great honour!" exclaimed Dobby, and he sniffled, "D-Dobby accepts...and...and..."

He abruptly stumbled and fell back, over Malice's legs, and the two frantically reached for him.

"Dobby?!" said Harry, "Mal, what's happening?"

"He's already dying. It's now or never. Take out your wand and put Dobby's hand on the tip, Harry, and repeat my words: I, Harry Potter, accept you Dobby, into service, to me and mine, and to all who is of my House forevermore, unto your death, so mote it be."

Harry repeated the words fervently, and a soft golden glow enveloped both Harry and Dobby, though the house elf was lifted off the bed a little, before lowering back. The elf opened his eyes, and blinked.

"Dobby is alive?"

"Yes," said Malice, "Dobby is very much alive."

The two students shared a smile of relief. And just before Dobby could start doing a caper, Harry seemed to sense it coming and stopped him. "Dobby...uh...we need you to be quiet for now."

"What can Dobby do for master first?!" asked the once-again energetic elf.

"Well, first...I can't give you clothes, right?"

"That would set him free again, and so soon after his last one, would kill him right away," supplied Malice helpfully, "but you can ask him to dress according to your preferences."

"Do elves have their own tailors?"

Dobby shook his head, "Elveses is happy with anything. Most elveses likes potato sacks, they smell nice and is right size for elves."

He looked down at himself, "Oh no! Dobby is bigger now!"

Indeed, it looked like his dirty sackcloth barely covered his legs now, "Dobby should have known, Dobby is bound to powerful master, so master's magic makes Dobby grow stronger too!"

"Wow..." said Malice, "...I've honestly never seen a binding with a new elf and master before, so this is all new to me."

"Well, right, first order of business, Dobby, I want you to wear something much cleaner and better looking."

"Dobby can do that."

"Great, next...uh...we'll work that out later. For now, get something better to wear. Where will you stay?"

"Dobby can stay with Hogwarts House Elves for now, until Great Master Harry Potter sir returns home..."

"Oh that's going to be a problem..." said Harry, and he looked towards Malice, "...my relatives hate anything to do with magic. Imagine what the sight of Dobby is going to create."

"Oh, but master!" said Dobby, "elveses pride themselves on not being seen. Master Harry Potter sir only sees Dobby many times because Dobby chose to show himself to you."

"We'll figure it out as we go along, all right?"

After a bit more conversation, Dobby vanished, and Harry looked at the clock. "It's going to be close, but I should get going. I'll see you tomorrow at the feast."

"Okay, and Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for not asking how I'm doing."

Harry chuckled, and nodded, "Well after hearing Crabbe, Goyle and even Malfoy, asking you that, I reckoned you'd be tired of that question. Well, good night, Mal."

"Good night, Harry."

She watched him slip out, then turned to look at Hermione, "You know you could have joined in on the conversation anytime, right?"

Hermione, who'd been turned on her side the whole time, opened her eyes and smiled, "I just wanted to see you two and how well you knew each other."

"Ohhh sneaky girl," said Malice playfully, "are you sure you shouldn't be in Slytherin?"

"Are you sure you shouldn't be in Hufflepuff?" countered Hermione.

"Funnily enough, I was nearly Sorted into Hufflepuff. I asked for Slytherin." said Malice.

"Hmm," said Hermione, "I was nearly Sorted into Ravenclaw. But I asked for Gryffindor."

"Harry told me he was nearly Sorted into Slytherin. Was everyone not Sorted where they should be?" Malice thought about it, then looked at Hermione, and they both laughed.

"We can be sure Ron was Sorted exactly where he should be." said Hermione.

"Yes," agreed Malice, "I think that's just as well, too. I'm of the opinion the world would end if a Weasley ended up anywhere but Gryffindor."

"Ha! Yes, that's probably true." Hermione looked thoughtful, then she looked at the other girl, "Malice?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't hurt Harry." The words and tone were soft and almost plaintive, but Malice didn't miss the danger and warning.

"I won't, I promise." Because Merlin help me, I think I fancy him a lot!

"Now," said Hermione, "explain in more detail, please, the history of house elves."

~ O ~

"Malice! In here!" called Tracey Davis.

Lugging her stuff along, Midnight ran between her legs and into the cabin first. The cat leapt into Daphne's lap and curled up immediately, purring in a contended manner.

"I see Midnight still prefers my legs to yours," said Daphne in a dry tone as Malice loaded her trunk away.

"It's not my fault you don't move at all in your sleep. I don't consciously make a habit of launching her into the wall." defended Malice.

"Just unconsciously," said Tracey with a grin, "I still haven't forgotten how you managed to throw Midnight right onto my face."

"I said I'm sorry! I didn't do that on purpose!" cried Malice as she sat down.

"We know, Mal," said Pansy, "the day you willfully commit harm is the day the world ends."

"Please don't say things like that," said Draco, "you know what happened the last time you did."

Malice looked at Draco and was surprised to see genuine concern in his eyes.

"What happened the last time?" asked Malice.

"Well...the last time she predicted something, it happened right away," said Draco, and he looked thoughtful, "it wasn't that I didn't like it, but it wasn't...fair."

"Fair?" asked Malice, "When did this happen? What wasn't fair?"

Pansy sighed and said, "It was the Quidditch match. Draco wanted to beat Harry Seeker-to-Seeker. After all, it would really put it to the Gryffindors if we outdid them and without underhanded tactics, right? I said that given what happened in the last Quidditch match with Harry, I suspected that he'd probably almost get killed, and also catch the snitch."

"And he did," said Daphne, Tracey and Draco all at once.

"Oh, right, the crazy bludger." said Malice.

"Yeah," said Draco, nodding, "still wonder who did that to the bludger, and why the hell were they going after Harry."

Malice kept her mouth shut on the matter. Whatever Harry and Hermione shared with her, especially where Harry was concerned, she would guard. Only revealing what might be relevant, and only if it benefited Harry in some way, like cooling any tensions between Harry and the Slytherins. Two years in, the girl felt that was relatively successful.

"But bottomline, Pansy," said Draco, "shut your yap and try not to predict disasters or horrific things. Please?"

Malice had a random thought, "It happened only after she said it right? What if Pansy has the power to make reality whatever she says? Rather than predicting?"

Everyone looked wonderingly at Malice, and then Draco looked even more alarmed, "Pansy don't even think it!"

"Too late," said Pansy sheepishly.

The train ground to a halt.

"Pansy!" cried several voices at once, including Malice.

"What did you think?" asked Tracey.

"Uhm...well, with that Sirius Black fellow escaping Azkaban, I just...I thought that the Ministry might think it a great idea to send Dementors to the train and Hogwarts to hunt for Sirius."

Malice felt the temperature dropping, as did everyone else, and they looked at the window beginning to frost up, "And I thought, with Harry's luck..."

"Oh no, Harry!" Malice headed for the door, when a harried prefect saw her and none-too-gently pushed her back inside the cabin.

"Nobody leave their cabins, and lock the doors! We've got dementors!" she said.

Glares were aimed at Pansy, and she shrugged helplessly, "Maybe it's just a BIG coincidence!"

"Fine, let's test that," said Tracey, "but first, Colloportus!"

She aimed her wand at the door and the spell sealed the door. A dementor glided past, and gazed intently at Pansy, and tried to pry open the door, but failed to open it. Malice in the meantime felt utterly utterly miserable and she wondered if she'd experience joy ever again.

"P-Panse..." said Daphne, her face ashen, "...now would be a good time to think happy occurrences."

"Doesn't work like that, I think," said Pansy morosely, "but I just want it to go away."

Mercifully it did. And they didn't feel all the way better, but it was a stark improvement from earlier.

"Pansy," said Theodore, "how about next time, you just imagine we get visited by cute fluffy bunnies?"

"Yeah, I'll do that."

~ O ~

With Midnight riding on her shoulders, Malice disembarked. It turned out Harry was directly visited by a dementor. But to his fortune, a professor was in the cabin with him and drove the dementor away. Still, it was too close a call, and so early in the year too! This did not bode well for the lad, and Malice decided to do her best to be there for him, whenever he needed.

But first, she had to check on a few things.

With a bright smile, she saw that her father had kept his promise and looked into Hagrid's expulsion and the snapping of his wand. In light of the events of the Chamber of Secrets being revealed, and the fact that the basilisk had endangered students in general, word came out, and Tom Riddle was ousted as being the perpetrator. The problem was, nobody knew what became of Tom, and word was not out yet that he was none other than Voldemort himself.

In any case, the immediate concern was the apology given to Hagrid on top of being wrongfully imprisoned. Well, he now had a wand once more, and he was using it in lieu of a lantern. Clearly Hagrid was proud to be able to use a wand again. She darted up, barely taller than a few First Years. He saw her coming and smiled at her, but blinked when she did her best to hug him.

"Good t' see yeh, Miss Match," said Hagrid, "wha' was tha' for now?"

"Just happy to see you, Mr. Hagrid," said Malice, and she looked pointedly at the wand, "that's a club for anybody else."

Hagrid looked at his wand and chuckled, "Ollivander, he made it special, jus' fer me!"

"I'll see you at dinner!" bid Malice as she rushed to catch up with her friends.

~ O ~

Looking back at how most of the term went, Malice sort of felt glad, that they'd manage to train Pansy to keep boundless optimism and positivity. There were signs that she really just had a gift for coincidental timing, but just when everyone thought that was the case, she'd say something and it happened right after. So, not certain if Pansy was a reality-warping goddess in human form, they took to grilling her to keeping positive and optimistic, and even slapped her with the new spell they learned: the Cheering Charm, to keep her even happier.

This led to Malice suggesting to Harry at some point, when he revealed that he was learning the Patronus Charm from Professor Lupin, and the fact that happy memories powered a spell, perhaps being under the effects of a Cheering Charm would improve his odds of casting it well.

Turned out she was right. That didn't stop Harry from getting some injuries, which was why she was once more heading for the Hospital Wing.

With all the Sirius Black scares going on, Malice had decided to look into the matter and sent letters to her parents. Turned out that there had been a gross miscarriage of justice involved with the man.

He never had a trial!

Even if he had been Voldemort himself, there should have been one, and with Sirius being of an Ancient and Most Noble House made the whole thing more damning for anyone involved, as questions of potential murder of a lord be behind Sirius' imprisonment, or other nefarious intentions.

After all, many a shady lord of other Houses had escaped justice despite more solid evidence being levied against them during the war, how come Sirius Black got slammed with what her father called circumstantial evidence?

It was all far too much, and with some quiet visits and exchanges of conversations, subtle selection of words and suggestions, and the Wizengamot became quite lively and put Minister Fudge under a great deal of pressure.

So it was, though Pettigrew nearly escaped, proof had been obtained that Sirius was quite innocent after all, and he not only had not murdered his friend, but it had been the other way around in almost everything. Peter Pettrigrew still lived, framed Sirius for the murders of over a dozen muggles, and betrayed the Potters on that fateful day in 1981. So...in essence, Peter Pettigrew was wholly responsible for the state of Wizarding England, and Harry's being an orphan since he was a baby.

As much as Minister Fudge would have liked to have swept this under the rug,and probably do something monumentally stupid, the outcry and scrutiny was far too much for him to do anything but what was demanded. And the dementors were called off, huzzah, and Pettigrew would face trial, and Black would also get his day in court, though not so he could be tried, but so that the biggest apology could be done in style, and maybe, none-too-subtly beg for mercy, since Sirius had every right to demand a sizeable restitution for over a dozen years of wrongful imprisonment, which could well bankrupt the wizarding nation.

Now wouldn't that be exciting?

All this and more was what Malice talked about with Harry. She found out about the whole debacle after Harry and Hermione had apparently chased Sirius (who was an unregistered animagus as it turned out) into the roots of the Whomping Willow, which could be temporarily petrified by pressing a specific root. But in the first place, who wanted to get that near a murder tree?

And Malice shared her little contribution, which earned her an impulsive kiss on the cheek, prompting both teenagers to blush after that, though Malice smiled and did an inner jig, Harry, well, Malice privately hoped this might be the start of something.

"So," she said, half-jokingly, and half to distract from what just happened, "same time same place next year?"

"Oh please don't even joke about this!" said Harry, "I'd give an arm and a leg to not have us meet in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey is already suggesting reserving this bed specially for me, and even put my name on it."

"Oh, if you mentioned it to the twins, there will be your name on the bed," said Malice with a grin.

Chuckling softly, Harry nodded, "Yeah, they would, wouldn't they?"

"So Sirius Black really is your godfather?"

"Yeah, he is," said Harry, "he said, after the trials and everything, I could maybe stay with him. Never have to go back to the Dursleys again."

"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful!" said Malice, and she squeezed his hand, happy for him.

Ron mumbled in his sleep nearby, and the two glanced over at him. Ron had been hurt during the incident, and Remus it turned out, was a werewolf! Fortunately, he'd remembered to take his Wolfsbane potion and largely retained his human consciousness, but not before Malice actually learned that Snape could turn several shades whiter than he already was, and that he could be startled and frightened enough to wet himself.

Though Ron's injury was attributed to a very irate Sirius, who'd been trying to make a grab for Peter, except Ron was desperately protecting the rat, not knowing who it was this entire time.

"Poor Ron," said Malice, "all this time, a grown man lived in his pocket and slept in his bed."

Harry actually turned a shade of green.

"Sorry," said Malice, "but it's true."

"Yeah, it is. I'm honestly glad this year went by so quickly for me." said Harry.

"It did, didn't it?" agreed Malice, "Shame about your Nimbus Two Thousand, though. That was a fine broom."

"I think Oliver Wood was more upset about it than I was, but it does hurt..."

"Well chin up, Harry," Malice squeezed his hand again, relishing in the fact that they'd stayed in contact and he hadn't noticed, or didn't mind.

"The Quidditch World Cup is this summer, and usually broom companies will start giving discounts to promote their wares. Maybe you can get a new broom for a good price."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry looked thoughtful, "anyway, I hope next year will be boring and uneventful."

"Don't worry," said Malice, "we've got Pansy trained now, and she'll either make it so dull you will cry, or at least she'd keep the injuries to a minimum for you."

She never really explained what she meant by that, and Harry would probably never figure out the significance of that sentiment shared among the Slytherins. Though surely he should have guessed by the number of Slytherins that were in Divination on account of Pansy.

For Malice though, that class was the next best thing after History of Magic for nice naps.

~ O ~

Fourth Year was shaping up pretty well...until the Goblet of Fire hacked up another piece of paper.

A fourth piece of paper.

When Malice saw that, her heart stopped beating for a minute. Half the Slytherins in her year group glared at Pansy, who softly giggled and said she really was just thinking about hamsters and unicorns. This had absolutely nothing to do with her.

For once.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore read aloud, and glanced about, his eyes eventually landing on the boy whose name he'd just spoken.

Hermione gently, but firmly pushed the boy to stand, and Malice felt herself almost rising from the seat herself, but what could she do? Ron was staring at Harry with an unreadable expression. And for some reason, that was more alarming.

"Harry." said Dumbledore, and he gestured to the door which Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory had all just entered a while ago.

With a look of a great weight upon his shoulders, Harry trudged towards the doors, and vanished, and the wild whisperings and inquiries began to take place. Malice closed her eyes and said a prayer for Harry.

Ever since the end of term before summer, Harry had been despondent to learn that he would have to endure yet another summer with his hated relatives, because while the trials had been quite swift, Sirius had been remanded into the care of St. Mungo's to evaluate his mental and physical health after so long in Azkaban and the exposure to the dementors on a daily basis.

The expected time for his convalescence was going to be most of Harry's Fourth and possibly Fifth Years.

At least Peter was now experiencing the joys and tender mercies of the dementors himself, with Sirius and Remus requesting for Pettigrew to be spared the Kiss, and he receive lifetime imprisonment. And since they now knew Peter was a rat animagus, special care and a unique cell had been made to prevent any animagi from escaping.

Somehow, they managed to keep Sirius' being an animagi himself a secret.

Useful and clever, that.

But yes, it meant Harry spent another Summer in relative misery. She'd sent a fair few letters, keeping Hedwig and her family owl quite busy. Her owl was looking almost mutinous towards the latter end of the holidays, while Hedwig remained cool and enigmatic and soul-piercing as ever.

Though he'd apparently gotten to spend some time with the Weasleys and attended the Quidditch World Cup, Malice had even seen him briefly while there. But Draco had guided her and other Slytherins away from the camps on that fateful night. He seemed to know something was up, and managed to protect them from the attack. Or at least, helped them avoid it, but Malice had seen the Dark Mark in the sky. That was very foreboding.

Harry also now had two House Elves...

Seemed that Barty Crouch, who was already under a lot of pressure due to his involvement in incarcerating Sirius Black without a trial, fell into a foul mood and had promptly released his elf, Winky, from his service by giving her clothes. Because she failed in something rather important to him.

Whatever the reason, Harry now had two elves, both of whom he had essentially loaned to the Weasleys. Harry had mentioned that Dobby's helping out at the home of his Muggle relatives only made things worse for him, so he'd sent Dobby off to help Mrs Weasley around the house instead.

Now, this. Harry had somehow been selected as a Fourth Champion in a competition meant for three. Malice idly wondered just how much Harry was cursing his luck, since his wish for a boring and uneventful term was all but dashed.

~ O~

"Hey Harry," said Malice, upon spotting the boy.

He was pacing back and forth along an empty wall on the seventh floor, near a portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. It certainly was an interesting portrait, given he was trying to teach trolls to dance. Malice supposed that was how he earned the title of barmy.

He stopped pacing when he heard her. She had no idea where he was, when Midnight suddenly took off, and Malice pursued the feline, which led her here. He seemed deeply troubled, and she had a fair idea why.

"Hey Mal, hullo Midnight," said Harry, and he knelt down to stroke the black cat, who purred contentedly as she brushed against him affectionately.

"Everything alright with you?" asked Malice.

"Not since my name came out the goblet," he said bitterly.

"Right, sorry, dumb question," said Malice.

"It's fine...at least you're talking to me...you don't think I put my name in the goblet, do you?"

Malice boggled at him, "That would rather contradict your desire to be out of the limelight and to have a peaceful quiet year, so, no. You didn't, did you?"

"Of course not."

"Then I don't believe you did," said Malice, "but obviously someone did."

Harry just stared at the girl for a while, long enough for her to fidget nervously, "Harry?"

"Sorry...it's just...wow," Harry shook his head.

"What?"

He laughed mirthlessly, "Ron refused to believe I hadn't put my name in the goblet, Hermione barely believes me. My House all think I cheated somehow...but you...you ask one time and don't question me at all after. Just...thank you."

Malice gave him a wan smile, and knelt down in front of him, joining him in stroking Midnight's fur. "Harry, you remember what I promised you back in First Year? I promised you I will always be your friend, no matter what happens. I intend to keep that promise. And friends? They stick together, and generally don't lie to one another. Just because Slytherin is cunning doesn't mean we're only deceptive and distrusting."

She sighed, and added, "I don't think Ron and Hermione would disbelieve you for long. They've been through too much together with you. Just give them time, and trust they'll figure it out."

Harry nodded, then got back to his feet and started pacing around by the wall again, "I really need help, though, and soon," he said, "the first task is dragons...crazy, right? Well, I told Cedric, and now, I need to think what I can do to survive just the first task alone! I dare not even think what the next..."

"Merlin!" cried Malice.

"No, Malice, don't even, I cannot be expected to fight Merlin himself. What I could really use now is..."

"Uhm...Harry?" Malice pointed past him at the wall, "There was definitely no door there before..."

Harry finally paused and looked at where the girl was pointing, and the girl moved to stand next to him. They looked at each other, and Malice shrugged, then walked ahead to open the door. If there was anything dangerous, she would get it first, then Harry could either pull her out or get help.

"YIPE!" Malice closed the door and pressed her back against it, panting hard.

"Malice?!" said Harry, alarmed.

"Dr-dra-d-d-dragon..." she stammered, and used one finger to point behind her, "dragon...in the room!"

She popped open the door a smidgen and looked over, the dragon was looking right at her. She closed it again and looked at Harry, "We need help."

From behind the door, a voice spoke, having a distinctly Scottish accent, "Well, as it so happens, I can be of assistance."

Both Harry and Malice froze.

"You heard that, right?" asked Harry.

"Y-yes. Yes I did."

Reluctantly, both students opened the door and it took all of Malice's willpower not to slam the door on the dragon's face, given he was right there.

"Hello, Miss Match, and hello to you, Mr. Potter," said the dragon, his mouth moving in perfect synchronization to the words, "I don't think we have that much time, so perhaps it is best you come in, and we can discuss what you summoned me for."

"H-how are you able to...?" started Harry.

"Let's just say I am one of the original dragons from more magically potent times, and leave it at that."

Malice shrugged and nodded. She'd personally never met a talking dragon before, and he was of an impressive size. To say nothing of the room that appeared whilst Harry had been talking. Once they entered the room and closed the door, Malice moved to stand beside Harry, and the dragon nodded at them, "You're going to be facing modern descendants of mine soon, and you," he pointed a clawed finger at Harry, "are going to need to keep all your wits about you. Though they are far removed from the bulk of ancient dragons, they are still by no means an impressive threat to any lone wizard, least of all a fourteen-year old boy, no matter how exceptional."

"So what will he need to do?" asked Malice.

"The simplest way to survive is to not participate," said the dragon, and at the look of indignation on Malice's face, and the look of wild hope on Harry's, he added, "but where's the fun in that?"

"I don't think fun is my biggest concern," said Harry, "but won't I lose my magic if I refuse to participate?"

"That is a distinct probability," said the dragon, "but I never said surviving meant you'd be whole. In any case, let's discuss the strengths and weaknesses of dragons, and see what we can learn, hmm?"

The dragon settled on his haunches, and chairs appeared behind the students, who promptly settled in.

~ O ~

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Hermione Jane Granger!" Called Malice after Harry had let her into the Gryffindor Common Room, and both the named students and others who were in earshot goggled at the sight of little Malice Match, fists planted on her hips, and glaring.

She hoped personally that she managed to sound and look imposing. If someone commented on how cute she looked, this would defeat her intentions.

"She's so cute!" said Katie Bell in a false whisper, so of course, everyone in the Common Room could hear her.

Dammit, thought Malice.

"I know! I could pinch those cheeks!" added Angelina, grinning away at the tiny snake in the lion's den.

Rolling her eyes, she just stalked forward, grabbed Ron and Hermione, who were still sufficiently stunned by her presence, and her glare to just let her lead them to the wide couch and sit them down. She pointed to the single seated chair across from the two while looking at Harry, "You, sit."

"Right," said Harry, a little stiffly, as he noted Ron's mutinous look.

Once he was settled in, Malice sat on the wide couch, but spaced a little from Ron and Hermione, and she faced them. She cast that privacy charm that Pansy showed her, the settled in, starting the ball rolling, "You three need to make up, and clear the air."

"Sure," said Ron, "once he admits how he cheated the age line."

"Ron..." said Malice, "...when...just when did Harry leave your side throughout the time the Goblet was revealed, to the time of the selection?"

"..."

Hermione looked thoughtful, and then her eyes widened, and then she looked at Harry, "I'm sorry, Harry...I...I should have noticed that myself."

Harry looked at her, and gave a weak smile, accepting her apology.

"I'm...sorry, too." said Ron, though he took a moment to really think it through, "plus, you'd have to be barking to want to face a dragon alone."

"Yeah...wait," Harry looked at Ron, "how'd you know the first task is dragons?"

Ron scoffed, "My brother Charlie, a Dragon Handler, shows up all of a sudden at Hogwarts, doesn't take much to figure why he'd be here."

The three of them soon began to smile and show warmth amongst each other, and Malice leaned back, content to let things take care of themselves.

But she was suddenly engulfed in a hug. Malice blinked and tried not to accidentally get Hermione's hair in her mouth as she said, "Uhm...excuse me?"

"Thanks, Malice," said Hermione as she pulled back, "for always having Harry's back, even when we didn't."

"Yeah," said Ron, "you're not bad, for a Slytherin."

Malice squinted at Ron for a moment, before saying, "And you're not so pigheaded, for a Gryffindor."

"Hey!" said two other voices.

"Oh don't get so uppity," said Malice, and looked at Harry, "You're a Slytherin in disguise as a lion, and you, Hermione, you're supposed to be a Ravenclaw who's denying she's not a lion. I'm a Hufflepuff in all but name, the only real Gryffindor here is Ron."

"So...technically," said Harry, "We are all four houses united as one."

Malice smiled, "I think I like that notion."

~ O ~

Hermione had been absolutely fascinated by the room, and also discovered it can shift according to the user's needs. The First Task had been nothing short of hair raising, and that too despite all the preparations and assistance by a talking dragon, Ron and Hermione.

Ron's fingers were crushed by Hermione and Malice respectively, as the girls sat on either side of him, watching as first Viktor Krum, then Fleur Delacour, then Cedric Diggory all managed to succeed in their task with the dragon, which involved retrieving a golden egg from the nest of different dragons each time. Ron had noted the Hungarian Horntail was the nastiest of the lot, and of course it became clear after Cedric, that the horntail was the one that Harry got.

The cheering had been strong for all the champions so far, but Malice was not sure how everyone would react to Harry given the silence he'd been met with, so she had worked a simple little prank of sorts with the Twins and Ron and Hermione, it would prompt people on select sections of benches to stand up and shout at twice the normal volume they were capable of.

She hadn't expected her fellow Slytherins to move first and cheer him on the moment he stepped out onto the field. And this prompted a strange effect of the Gryffindors, not wanting to be outdone by Slytherin of all Houses, to give Harry their wholehearted support, followed by Ravenclaw and even Hufflepuff. Evidently, the twins didn't need to do anything. They gave Malice a shrug and joined with sending some small fireworks.

Malice had still continued to be their willing test subject and she was finding the newer pranks getting more creative but also more fun for all involved, and less dangerous. So she was happy to see the twins getting closer to achieving their goals.

Harry naturally overcame his challenge, but it hadn't been without some close calls. His intimate knowledge about dragons, their strengths and weaknesses, allowed him to get close enough to the beast. His Parseltongue baffled the dragon further, and that had him on the dragon's back and neck, where that one spot was that only other dragons or a person who knew exactly where it was you stroke it firmly and press down, literally putting the dragon in a trancelike state.

The brooding mother tried to fight it, but eventually gave in, as Harry continued his serpent speech, rendering it a non-threat in minutes. He recovered the egg from the nest, earning a genuine cheer from the crowds this time. Watching him ride an enraged dragon, almost getting incinerated, and then doing something even most Dragon Handlers would never dare to try, was quite the spectacle.

But it almost looked like he was more afraid at approaching her several weeks later than he was with confronting the dragon.

"Mal?" said Harry.

"Yes Harry?" replied the girl, a little hopeful, and a little nervous, and anticipating the question.

"Will you go to the Yule Ball with m..."

"Yes." said Malice immediately, and probably a little too eagerly, in her own mind, she should have at least waited for him to finish the question, but it was too late for that now. "What will you be wearing? I think I would like to try coordinating our outfits."

Harry laughed nervously, and told her what he was wearing and, "Hope that isn't too horrid for you."

"Nonsense," said Malice, "you could go as a Christmas tree and I'll find something to match. It's in my name."

When she got back to her dorms, her yearmates were discussing their dates and plans, and Malice had barely sat down on the sofa when Daphne, Tracey and Pansy took one look at her and grinned. "It's Harry, isn't it?"

"Wha-?" Malice looked up and felt her cheeks heating up, "How'd you know?!"

"HAH!" said Tracey, "Told you she wouldn't clue in to it until it's hitting her in the face! Pay up, Malfoy."

"Yeah, yeah." Draco fished out a handful of galleons and slapped them on Tracey's outstretched palm.

"Y-you made a bet on Harry asking me out?" said Malice, looking perplexed more than anything else.

"Easiest bet anyone could make. Draco here thought you'd lose patience and ask him first."

"Just why'd you have to be so bloody shy, Mal?" said Draco, leaning his elbows on his knees, "Everyone knows you two fancy each other."

Malice opened her mouth to protest, but paused, and thought about it. The knowing smirk Ron and Hermione gave her whenever she was talking about Harry, and Merlin, she was quite fixated in her dialogue. Everything she'd done in these last few years was looking out for Harry.

"What do you mean we fancy each other?" she switched tactics now, rather than admit straight out, but the knowing looks her own yearmates traded with each other again said another story and that her subterfuge was as obvious as a troll in the great hall.

Draco smirked, then snorted, "Really? You can't see it?"

"See what?"

Sighing, he explained, "Have you noticed Harry has, as of yet, never refused you anything? If you called him to join you at the Slytherin table, he would, and even Ron would follow, just so Harry would be the only red in a sea of green...oh hell, I'm starting to call him Ron instead of Weasley...anyway, we've all seen the looks he gives you when you're not looking. He gets the same goofy lovelorn smile that you're sporting at this very moment as you hear about this."

Blushing, Malice coughed and shook her head, covering her face partly with a hand, saying something about "Bloody dust bunnies."

The girls for their part, even Daphne, looked positively ecstatic and Milicent asked, "Did you...ask him...what he's going to wear?"

"Yes, I did," said Malice, and described his attire.

After listening for a moment, Draco stood up and announced, "Right, boys, that's our cue to depart and do something else. Let's go see about getting a little scrimmage with anybody else for a bit."

Crabbe, Goyle, Theodore and Blaise got up to follow him out, whilst the girls gave a good-natured eye-roll, and then turned their full attention back on Malice, who suddenly felt a little unsettled by the scrutiny.

"Right," said Daphne, "for the most part, you have a fairly decent fashion sense...but I have rarely ever seen you apply make-up or much care to yourself aside from brushing your hair. Why is that?"

"I had no need for it," said Malice.

"Well, it's your first date with Potter," said Pansy, "so it's makeover time!"

"What?" said Malice, "But...wait...no, I'm f-fine with the way I look!"

The girls paid no heed to protests as they almost bodily carried her up to their dorms. When she was one of the tiniest girls in their year, that was no real challenge. It turned out that Malice was deathly ticklish and couldn't stand brushes on her skin. A fact that Tracey learned whilst trying to apply some paint to her toenails, and nearly got a kick to the face for it.

"Right, that's one thing you're doing yourself." said Tracey after Malice scrunched her toes tightly and trying not to giggle madly.

"I don't need to paint my toenails!" argued Malice, "How often do you think he's going to be looking at them anyway?!"

"You never know," said Pansy with a grin as she lightly brushed Malice's hair, "he might like feet."

"No he doesn't, he actually likes breasts way more," said Malice, and then slapped a palm over mouth, "forget I said that."

Daphne hissed and grabbed Malice's hand back as she'd been working on her nails, and started from scratch again.

"Not a chance," said Tracey, "how do you know this?"

So, while they interrogated poor Malice on what she knew about Harry's preferences, which, as it turned out was a fair bit, the girl realized through their questioning just how much she'd spent her time observing and learning about him, until she could almost gauge his life story like a book, and considering there were books about him and his life, and the stories conflicted with one another from author to author, she knew that none of them held even one ounce of truth to how he'd really lived his life.

The girls didn't just spend time grooming Malice, but they all needed time to prepare themselves for their respective dates too. And in return for all the work they'd put on her, she helped each of them as thanks.

Pansy was going with Draco, of course, whilst Daphne went with Blaise, Tracey with Theodore, and Milicent was going with both Crabbe, Goyle though, he got a date with one Luna Lovegood of Ravenclaw.

"She's funny," said Goyle with a helpless shrug when his housemates arched an eyebrow at his choice.

The time came for the ball, and Malice had put on her pale greenish-blue silk dress, with lace netted shoulders and cream coloured silk gloves, finished with a modest little tiara that adorned her elegantly curled hair, done up in large crown braids, she saw herself in the mirror, and smiled. Admittedly, the girls were right, and she felt very beautiful, rather than just 'acceptable' in her own opinion.

The mirror seemed to agree, when it remarked with, "Oh my, you are going to catch many an eye tonight, dear."

"Thank you," said Malice, "I hope to catch only one person's eye though, and even if everyone says it is so, I still feel nervous."

"Almost everyone does on their first date," said the mirror, "but trust me, my dear, he's just as nervous as you are. So, as they used to say, Qui Patitur Vincit!"

"What does that mean?" asked Malice.

"It means, ducky, 'Hang in there, and you'll rock!'"

She exited her dorm and stood just out of sight of anyone waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Harry had been rather insistent at meeting her at the dorm. Relations between Slytherin and other houses were at their best in many long years, and even the bitter Head of House could do nothing about it, though given what the Headmaster often extolled about unity, Malice honestly thought Snape would have approved.

"So, who was your tailor?" asked Draco.

Malice kept quiet, fairly certain he was talking to Harry.

She was right when a moment later, she heard his voice replying, "Haven't the faintest. Does it matter?"

"What do you mean, does it matter?" asked an incredulous Draco, "Of course it does! Has Malice taught you nothing or were you just too busy admiring her?"

Deciding that Draco had had enough time interrogating Harry, and honestly, she reckoned Harry would be happier not knowing the finer points of being aware of just who designed a dress robe was really not necessary, she made herself visible by stepping forward, and anything Draco was saying died on his lips as both boys turned to look at her.

Harry was gaping a little, and Draco smirked, casting a glance at Harry, then back at her. For her part, Malice was a little stunned by how handsome he looked in his outfit. No wonder Draco was curious. The dark onyx green had a bluish hue that was a match to her own dress, which was specifically what she was aiming for, and she gave him a smile, hoping she wasn't looking a little too happy, because that was how she felt.

Managing not to trip down the stairs, she paused at the last few steps just so they'd be eye level for a moment, and when he took her hand to kiss it, she was glad he missed the flush of her cheeks, and plastered that smile on her lips for him. But she was pleased that he remembered the training she'd taught him.

She felt all eyes on both her and Harry as all her yearmates seemed to gauge both of them. Harry, for his part, remained largely oblivious, or else he hid his apprehension way better than she thought possible. Either way, he kept things light and simple, going with, "You're absolutely breathtaking, Malice."

"Thank you, Harry. You look lovely too...ah, I mean, handsome!" she cleared her throat and was relieved when he gestured towards the door.

"Shall we?"

"Yes, do let's."

Through some unspoken agreement, Draco and Pansy fell in behind her and Harry, the Blaise with Daphne, Theodore with Tracey, and so on. With Goyle and Luna pulling up the rear. Luna was complimenting the decor of the Slytherin Common Room along the way, and wondered if anyone had seen the rare Poison-Barb Plimpies swimming past the windows at any time.

It seemed Ron had managed to acquire a date with Fleur Delacour while Hermione was escorted by one Viktor Krum. And Cedric Diggory had a female Bulgarian student on his arm. She was the ballet dancer who had offered to help any student with some dance lessons. She was quite pretty, and had dark hair and eyes. She saw Malice with Harry and winked at them.

Professor McGonagall gave the signal to the Champions to take their places, as they would lead everyone else in, and then start the dance after a light dinner.

"You ready?" asked Malice.

Harry looked at her, a tremulous smile on his lips, and he said, "As I'll ever be."

"Just remember, one two three, one two three..."

"I keep hearing the counting in French because of her," Harry gestured to the Bulgarian lass in front of them.

"I know, me too, but I'm also obstinate," said Malice.

After birthdays, Christmas was Malice's favourite season, and Hogwarts had gone all out on the decorations this year. As the oak doors opened, everyone was greeted by the beauty of the hall. Flecks of snow drifted down, the ceiling imitating the weather outside, but without the freezing cold. The champions entered, and as they presented themselves before the professors, the crowd drifted to the tables around and began to add applause for the champions and their dates.

The dinner was short, and for once Malice and Ron ate slowly and lightly, whilst keeping a conversation. Viktor and Fleur had thick accents, but they were speaking English nonetheless, and Ron was beaming whilst many boys shot him jealous looks, in particular, one Roger Davies, whom Fleur turned down.

At the Headmaster's cue, the students rose from their seats, and with a flick of his wand, all the tables moved to rearrange themselves against the walls, clearing the floor for dancers. Giving Harry an encouraging smile, she took his proffered hand and followed him to the floor.

"Just you and me on the floor," said Malice suddenly, "no one else around us."

Harry smiled at her gratefully, appreciating what she was trying to do. The truth was, Malice was afraid of embarrassing Harry by tripping or doing something silly, which, honestly, she believed she was so prone to. More so because she WAS DANCING WITH HARRY!

Just how many times in recent years had she even dared to dream of doing this with him?

And now that it was a reality, the only thing racing through Malice's mind was Don't mess it up don't mess it up don't mess it up.

A mournful tune started up and Malice nearly wanted to pause to goggle at the fact, but this was the Weird Sisters, so, it should be expected?

At a gentle prompt from Harry, they began their circuit. She tuned everyone else out, concentrating only on him. He seemed to be doing the same with her, so their eyes stayed locked on one another, and they danced, not for one song, but another...and another...and on into the night.

She did not even know when they left to stroll quietly in the gardens, with fairies illuminating the rose bushes, charmed with warmth and radiance. If the night wasn't magical enough, they held hands, in companionable silence. She knew then for certain, how very much she was in love with Harry Potter. Yes, they were only fourteen, and probably way too young for this. But Malice was nothing if not foolhardy and confident that she belonged with him.

And if the looks he was giving her was any indication, and if everyone telling them they seemed meant for each other, was there really a need to argue or fight it?

"Malice..." Harry said, calling for her attention, and they stopped walking, turning to face each other.

She knew what he wanted, and she wanted it too. Far be it from her to deny Harry anything, just as he apparently could not say no to her. So she stood on her tip-toes, giving herself as much boost to her height as possible, leaning towards him, and he dipped his head towards her. Lips gently connected with one another, and both teenagers became enraptured by the sheer experience of it.

She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer, deepening the kiss, as he wrapped his arms around her back, securing her and reassuring her with his warmth and touch that this was really happening.

It was better than any dream.

Tomorrow, the world awaited, but for tonight, she had this most beautiful memory, something she could cast a Patronus charm with. And she knew, for certain, he felt the same. Words were not needed here. So none was said.

They continued to dance and kiss through the night, content in the bliss of newfound love.

~ O ~

How could it have gone so horribly wrong?

Tears poured freely down Malice's cheeks, overwhelmed by emotions, loss and in empathy for what Harry had endured. And more, much more than that. Voldemort had returned. Most, if not all of Slytherin believed Harry when he announced, whilst still clutching to both trophy and Cedric's body, of his return. Many had been receiving missives with hints and warnings of what was to come.

The Second Task came and went with relative ease. Malice had been Harry's hostage, as had most of the champions' dates, save for Fleur, who had to rescue her young sister, Gabrielle, though Harry had ended up saving both Malice and the little Veela, due to Fleur suffering an attack by Grindylows early on. Fleur had been most grateful to Harry.

All throughout the months from Christmas to now, Malice and Harry's relationship had solidified, and it seemed like there was just not enough time in the world for each other. Her yearmates had a new bet estimating when she and Harry would get hitched and make new Potters to terrorize the world with, much to Malice's embarrassment.

The bliss came to an abrupt end tonight, but not just because of Voldemort's return, but because of something unexpected.

There, she sat, with Harry, Ron and Hermione, in the Headmaster's office.

She hiccupped every now and then, as she sobbed. The shock and horror of Cedric's death hit her surprisingly hard. He had been a wonderful friend and even a mentor-like figure to Harry and even Malice by some extension. And all those years, he treated her like an honorary Hufflepuff, and she regretted now never telling him how much that meant to her.

On top of which, it turned out Professor Moody had been Barty Crouch Jr. in disguise as the ex-Auror. He had been responsible for all of Harry's plights this whole year.

He was caught now, and will likely be sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss after everything he'd done. And now, the four of them sat, consoling one another, whilst waiting for Dumbledore to explain what he wanted from them. He seemed to be watching Malice the most, his expression most grave, and even in her state, Malice knew something was up.

"While you certainly haven't been subtle about it," said Dumbledore, "and I realize how insensitive it may seem to ask this after what you have all witnessed, or in your case, Harry, what you have gone through, how long have you two been together?"

Taking his hand in hers, Malice looked at him, and though he seemed bewildered by the query, he answered, "Since Christmas, Professor."

"I see, I see." said Dumbledore.

"What's this about, Professor?" Ron asked with a frown, and Hermione matched the expression.

"A serious oversight on my part," said Dumbledore immediately, and he added, "something that I will address and correct right now."

As he said that, Severus Snape walked in, and Malice felt the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Magic was filling the room, most of it centered around Dumbledore, but Snape too!

But nothing happened just yet, and Dumbledore seemed to have an impressive aura of light surrounding his body as he gazed piercingly at Malice, making the girl gulp nervously. She felt like she was laid bare before the Headmaster and everyone else, and he asked her, "Tell me, Miss Match, do you love Harry Potter?"

"Yes." Though she was nervous, this was one thing she had no doubt about since Christmas and answered without hesitation.

Despite the power and the command of attention by the Headmaster, Malice's answer made Harry, Ron and Hermione tear their gaze away momentarily to look at and smile at the Slytherin. Harry's expression was the only one that really mattered though, and she was glad to see him smiling again, despite everything.

"And what would you do to ensure Harry survives through all the ordeals he is likely going to face moving forward?" asked the Headmaster sternly, drawing everyone's attention back to him, and behind him, his phoenix squawked and flapped his wings.

Malice hesitated a moment as she realized that she would be making something of a commitment one way or another, and she had to ask herself if this decision affected only her, or her family and other friends? Could she do that?

In a word: Yes.

"Anything and everything," was her answer, and she felt her own magic reacting and her body glowed with a brief flash of light, surprising everyone except Snape and Dumbledore, the former who still remained behind the students, but silent.

Dumbledore maintained a long, unsettling gaze on Malice, before the aura of light finally vanished, and Malice felt less intimidated, realizing that the Headmaster must have used something akin to a compulsion spell to prompt an honest answer out of her. He nodded and said, "Thank you, Miss Match, for your candor. But as I said, this is a situation that needs to be rectified quickly."

"Wh-what?" Malice and the others looked confused. Nobody liked how that sounded.

There was a flash of spell fire and Ron and Hermione slumped forward in their seats without falling off. Harry, who was already wounded and emotionally drained, barely registered the attack before Dumbledore cast a stunning spell silently at Harry, leaving only Malice, who had her wand in her left hand as she turned her body sideways and shot out of the chair, barely evading the Headmaster's stunning spell, and she managed to deflect one from Snape, as she shouted, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Snape snarled and suddenly shouted, "IMPERIO!"

Malice's arm lowered and she leaned slightly against the wall, calm, but her body twitched and now and then, her left hand twitched, as she struggled to lift it, but it felt so good to just let go, after all, Snape and Dumbledore were Professors, they wouldn't harm her, right? She decided listening to them was the best and wisest course of action.

But Harry!

Her eyes twitched and a small frown shifted her placid, contented expression, and her left hand twitched again, nearly raising her wand once more.

"Impressive," said Dumbledore, though to Malice, he sounded a bit far away, his voice almost having a muffled quality to it, "even with so much power, she fights it. I dare say she is nearly as strong willed as our dear Mr. Potter here."

"She does not look like much," said Snape, his voice sounding slightly strained, "but I warned you, Headmaster. The girl is besotted with Potter, and I wouldn't be surprised if it is her misguided love for him that's giving her this much willpower."

"Indeed," Dumbledore smiled as he stood up and walked around the table and looked at Malice, "I am so sorry about this, Miss Match, but I believe that at this moment, a relationship with Mr. Potter is just not feasible or advisable. Though I had seen the signs from the moment you appeared as his date for the Yule Ball, I had mistakenly thought that it was just a crush, but I did not account for the gift of Potter Men who often find their life partners easily within their First Year here."

"There is more, Headmaster," said Snape, "the girl is single-handedly responsible for unifying all four Houses, despite my efforts to the contrary, Slytherin is all but firm allies with Gryffindor, and would not hesitate to rush to the defense of other Houses. Primarily her yearmates are fully supporting her in her endeavours, but even the older students take their cues from her group."

"Astounding, but most unfortunate," remarked Dumbledore, as he looked at her, and from her vantage, she could see his face had a look of profound regret.

"You must understand, Miss Match, that at any other time and situation, you would be a credit to our school, and perhaps even to British wizarding society as a whole. But right now? Right now, your actions, well...yours and your family's...will prolong what is going to be a deadly war, one that England is ill-prepared to fight."

He shuffled closer to her, and she only stopped struggling because of a combination of curiosity, and the feeling of contentment which was really like nothing else she'd ever experienced before, so she placidly awaited more information and perhaps a command from either Professor.

"I am quite aware that while your family maintains a stance of neutrality," said Dumbledore, "the Match family is very much in the Light, perhaps, more so than even me. And again, as I said, at any time, you and your family would be paragons and leaders that would bring our society to a new age of enlightenment. But that same virtue that makes you so good and kind, will prevent and delay the coming perils, and I had not seen just how much influence you have already had with Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger."

He turned to look at Snape, who twisted his wand a little, and Malice made a soft noise, as she groaned, feeling a combination of contentment and even pleasure, a state of euphoria, almost akin to the Cheering Charm, but this was different somehow.

"There are things, you see, that I have been working on. I have been fully aware that Tom Riddle, or Voldemort, as he likes to call himself now, was going to return, one day. There was a prophecy about the young man you love so much. And it is a terrible one. But I have put plans in place to ensure Harry's best chance of success."

Dumbledore paused in his explanation to gaze sternly at her, "Your involvement with Harry would not only be detrimental to Harry's chances, but will also doom all of Wizarding Britain to misery and a bleak future I dare not even speak about. Do you understand? Acknowledge me if you do."

"Ye-es...Professor," Malice's face was strained, even through her contented smile.

Dumbledore nodded and turned his back to her, and he missed the tears that began to pour down her cheeks anew. Somewhere deep within her, Malice knew that her time with Harry was over. Dumbledore all but told her right out.

She saw the Headmaster touch his wand to his temple and a silvery stream drew out as he pulled his wand away slowly, and he placed the silvery material into a vial, which he showed her. "When the time is right, this will be given to you. I understand you may hate me and Professor Snape for this, but...having spent the last year of planning and reviewing which are the best plans and which ones are doomed to fail, this has been deemed the best course with the best results. But I have been known to be wrong before. As such, I have contingencies in place that will hopefully never see the light of day, but we all do what we can, don't we?"

He sighed and added, "I admit, I am going to be very ashamed of what we are about to do, and we are going to very likely undo years of hard work put in by yourself and your friends here, but please believe me, in that things will be far worse if it is not done. You will not remember any of this until this is given to you."

He showed her the vial again, and the last thing she heard before everything went black was the Headmaster pointing his wand at her and saying, "Obliviate."

~ O ~

When Malice awoke, she pushed herself up on her bed, and looked around in sleepy bewilderment. But she immediately became more awake when she saw all her roommates looking at her with a mixture of hostility or at best, apprehension.

"Good morning, Match," Daphne's neutral tone and using her family name sent ice down Malice's back and she turned to look at the long-haired blonde, who had an unreadable expression that matched her tone.

"Daph?" said Malice.

"Intriguing, so it's back to Daph, now, is it?" there was a bit more emotion creeping back into Daphne's voice, but Malice couldn't tell if she was hopeful, or more annoyed.

"Wh-what day is it?" asked Malice.

Sitting across from her in her own bed, Daphne did not answer, but simply gestured to the calendar on the shared desk by their bedside. It was the last day of June.

"I...that's impossible," said Malice, "I can't remember anything from...from..."

Daphne merely arched an eyebrow, but all the other girls were now drawing closer to the blonde's bedside, and watched Malice. The tiny witch was mildly alarmed to see Pansy, Tracey and Milicent had their wands drawn, and she idly wondered if she needed to do the same thing, because she did not like the murderous look on Tracey's face.

What in the blazing hells happened?

"What's going on?" asked Malice, all innocence.

For a moment, Tracey's hate-filled look dropped, she frowned, then the expression darkened once more. But Pansy and Daphne frowned and looked closely at Malice. Milicent looked uncertain, but she had the most hurt look out of the four girls. The other witches in the room watched them from their own beds.

"Match," said Daphne, and when the girl looked at her, she continued, "do you swear you are not pretending or playing games with us? Do you truly not remember what has occurred since the twenty-fourth of June till now?"

"Y-yes, I swear it, and it's Malice...or Mal. Why are you calling me Match?"

"Because that is how you started addressing us when you came back, but you knew about all kinds of things that only you would know about us. I did not appreciate you announcing my secrets to Ravenclaw house, even if it was only Marietta Edgecomb and Luna Lovegood at the time."

"Wha...no," Malice shook her head, "I have never shared what you have told me in confidence, not even written or anything. I would never...!"

Malice felt agitated and upset now. Something was very wrong.

Pansy was kneeling in front of Malice, one hand on her knee, and the other still holding her wand, but she wasn't pointing it at her, at least. She was looking deep into Malice's eyes.

"Oh thank Merlin," said Pansy, "I was right. It was the Imperius curse. I told you!"

Tracey's expression softened all the way now, and Milicent seemed to look more sympathetic to the tiny witch now. Daphne's lips quirked a moment, before she fell back into the mask of neutrality.

"Then I understand," said Daphne, "nevertheless, my trust in you has been shattered, Mat...Malice. Understand if I am aloof, it is not because I think you will knowingly hurt me, but because someone might put you under the curse again, and who knows what you might do with the information."

Malice could not lie that that didn't hurt. She loved Daphne like a sister, and if she wanted to behave in this way, she had high doubts the blonde would change her stance, and likely the others would follow in her stead. So even if they didn't outright hate her now, she could tell from the way they were nodding at Daphne, that Malice had essentially just lost her best friends.

"Wait," begged Malice, "c-can any of you at least tell me what happened? I...I really cannot remember anything. Please?"

After an exchange of reluctant looks between them, the girls settled on Daphne's bed across from her, and explained how she came back to the Slytherin Common Rooms and snapped at pretty much everyone. She was irritable on the first day, but became a complete monster for the next few days, but she started faltering in her manner of speech just yesterday, as if she were confused about how she was behaving.

However, she was even more horrid to people of any other House. Not to mention she had something of an epic row with her boyfriend, Harry, and the final nail had been in the Great Hall, where Harry and Malice nearly came to hexes and curses with one another before they ended their relationship.

Tears poured freely from Malice, and Milicent hesitated a moment, then got up, and sat beside Malice to hug her, as she started sobbing uncontrollably. Tracey's face was dark once more, but not aimed at Malice this time.

"This is wrong," Tracey growled, "someone has placed an Unforgivable on Malice, someone we've all known for years and even before Hogwarts...I'm not content with just distancing ourselves for our own safety and hers. I want to find the one responsible and put them away for life."

"Think logically for a moment, Tracey," Daphne snapped at her closest friend, "yes, they were sloppy in how they altered her personality so it became bloody obvious when she got out of it, but how many people among the students do you know are strong enough to put an Imperius Curse, possibly wipe minds, and insert an artificial persona for nearly a week? Furthermore, that curse lasted a week without requiring the spell to be recast. She had not been out of our sight aside from the bathrooms, and even then, one of us had always been within earshot."

This sobered up everyone, and Tracey sighed with resignation. Then shook her head, stubborn. "Malice is still my friend. I'm still angry, but not at you anymore, Mal. I'm angry with whoever did this. I'm still going to be with you, don't worry, but we just can't...you know."

"I-I understand, Trace...it's fine," said Malice. Her heart was heavy now with everything she'd learnt, but there was nothing to be done about it except move forward and deal with things as they come along.

Still, if she could patch things up with Harry, things might have a chance to get better. Why on Earth would she fight with Harry though? She was certain she would have snapped out of the Imperius...but something told her she had agreed to ending her relationship. It wasn't even a conscious thought, just a niggling feeling in the back of her mind.

"I...I guess I'll get ready for the day," said Malice and she took her toiletries.

When she came out of the bathroom Pansy stopped her, "Don't go down just yet. Draco and the boys don't know yet. Let us at least inform them about what happened first."

"Oh...okay."

She sat on her bed after getting dressed and waited until Pansy came back up to give her the all clear. When she went down, most of the room was deserted, with everyone having gone for breakfast, but Daphne nodded at Malice before she went out. Sighing, the tiny witch counted to ten and walked out, alone.

When she arrived at the Great Hall, people from other houses shot her dark looks, though not as potent as the treatment she'd gotten right as she awakened, it was nonetheless significant when one considered she had only ever been greeted by smiles over the last four years by anyone and everyone. This was a most intimidating experience. Even the Twins were giving her odd looks, and the best she got from Ron and Hermione was a glower and a frown respectively.

But she noticed also that Harry was quite absent. When she had been about to ask Pansy, the girl seemed to anticipate her query and muttered, "He got hexed...Hospital Wing. You were not the only one behaving oddly."

Unable to bring herself to finish her food any longer, Malice got up and left.

Unlike other times, Malice felt oddly reluctant, but she liked Harry too much...wait...no, she loved Harry. So she was going to at least get a look at him, if nothing else.

He was awake, and resting in the same bed that he's placed in everytime he was here, which, really, was more than anyone else combined. He looked up with a half-smile on his face, but that smile vanished completely for a moment when he saw her, and Malice felt her heart plummet when he did that.

If Pansy was right, then Harry was under the Imperius curse, but it still didn't hurt any less to see the behaviour. Still, during class with Professor Moody, Harry had been the only one to ever shake off the Imperius, and Malice was a close second to him. Shouldn't Harry have managed to shake it off sooner?

"H-Harry?"

"Hi," he replied. But somehow it was devoid of the warmth and familiarity they'd shared over the past four years.

"Harry, we've both been under the..."

"I know," he said, "Madam Pomfrey found traces or signs of it on me."

She hesitantly drew nearer, and slowly settled into the chair next to him.

"Do you know what happened?" They both asked at the same time, and Harry fell silent, whilst Malice chuckled nervously.

"Yes, I do," said Malice, "but Harry you do know right that I would not..."

She couldn't find the words, but he seemed to understand, "Yeah...I don't think that's something you'd do."

Malice nodded, looking relieved, but then she saw the pensive look on his face, "So why do I feel like you're not going to amend that?"

He finally looked her right in the eyes, and she dreaded what he was going to say next.

"Maybe it's best we see it as a sign," he said.

She didn't think she could feel worse, and she was so wrong. "Oh."

"Voldemort's back, Malice...I...I need to deal with that, and I don't think we..." he didn't need to articulate what else he meant. She was out of the picture, clearly.

"Okay."

Don't cry, don't cry, don't bloody cry! She mentally ordered herself, but the tears were threatening to spill, and her lips were quivering. Her entire body was doing anything but obeying what she commanded it to do.

"I'm sorry, Mal...I..."

"N-no...it's...it's...fine. I get it." Damn she hated how much like a crybaby she sounded.

She was angry, upset, heartbroken, and she honestly had no one right then. Yes, the girls in her dorm were in solidarity with her, but they all had this wall up around her now. And she knew it. She also knew why they had to be cautious. What Daphne hadn't said outright that morning was that whoever cast it had to have been one of the Professors, and really, how could they hope to take on whoever it was? Slytherins weren't prone to charging in half-cocked with half the info on the situation. That was a Gryffindor thing.

She needed to get away. So she got up, and Harry made no attempt to stop her, but she paused at the door, then turned back, to look at him, her tears were flowing. "At least tell me that we had something real?"

It was a desperate plea, and probably putting a knife in Harry's hands to stab her with and twist the blade in at his whim.

"I like to think it was." he said, without a smile or any form of reassurance.

"It still is for me." she left that for him to consider, and she left.

~ O ~

"Morning Malice," said a male voice, and for a moment, Malice dared to hope as she opened her eyes, but as her vision cleared up, she saw the platinum hair of Draco and sighed.

"H'llo Drake," said Malice as she slowly propped herself up on her bed to a sitting position.

"Well please don't jump up to greet me," he drawled jovially.

Malice just shot him a venomous look, then sighed, and said, "What is it?"

"Just checking on you."

Since returning to Hogwarts, most of the Slytherins had opted to treating Malice like she was made of glass. Not just glass, but a shattered glass atop a sand structure.

She honestly would have preferred the hostility.

Though it was nothing compared to the fact that she had bodyguards now. Bodyguards. Not friends. If it wasn't Vincent or Gregory, it would be Tracey and Milicent. Even Daphne or Pansy at times. But none of them would take her into their confidence or share their feelings or secrets. Yes, they'd talk to her, but only about things everyone knew about, or school subjects, but that was it. Nobody wanted to chance letting their guard down anymore.

It really hurt, but she also could not blame them at the same time.

Somehow, all the trust and friendships she'd built not just for herself, but between houses over the last few years, had been almost irreparably shattered in just under one week.

Why anyone wanted that, she had no idea.

Following the theme of either Harry or Malice ending up in the Hospital Wing for an extended stay, it seemed that as Harry was in the wing last year, it was now Malice's turn. Only, instead of Harry seeing her, it was Draco.

As if he read her mind, Draco remarked, "He actually was here, you know."

Without needing to clarify who "he" was, Malice nodded, feeling at least a little pleased.

"He watched you for a while as you slept. Had this strange look on his face, as if he was puzzled or confused, but he didn't try to wake you. Can't figure out why he wouldn't. He really looked...at peace, while he was here."

Malice frowned, "Were you watching him the whole time?"

Draco shrugged, "Hard not to when he ignored my presence while I stood there the whole time."

Malice goggled at the thought. To say that things around the school was tense would have been an understatement. The new Defense Professor, Umbridge, had been nothing short of a disaster, and she marvelled at the fact that Headmaster Dumbledore hadn't done anything to address the changes she'd been implementing around the school.

The only people outside of House Slytherin that she'd managed to remotely patch up with were the Twins, who might have done so mostly because they missed their voluntary lab rat. But she'd sent them a letter over the summer, explaining everything. They're reply had been both creative and her answer.

They sent her a canary cream.

So she ended up in the same cabin with them and their long time friend, Lee Jordan, often jokingly called the Third Twin. He was won over with just a few words vouching for Malice and he was joking and talking to her like she'd been his friend all these years. Somehow, she ended up in Katie Bell's lap when she, Alicia and Angelina all showed up to join the boys, and like Lee Jordan, at a mere nod from them, they just forgave her and accepted her presence in the cabin. She nearly cried again.

But that was also the extent of any forgiveness she got from anybody.

Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff weren't outright hostile, but they were certainly cool and aloof if she tried speaking with any of them.

Then there was the whole debacle about the Inquisitorial Squad Umbridge formed. As much as Malice tried to persuade Slytherin to stay out of it, she lacked most of the influence she'd gained over the previous years, and though they listened, they nevertheless joined up with Umbridge, though Draco had promised her at the time.

"Chin up, Mal," he'd said at the time, "look, I know you don't think this is a good idea, and I know how this must look to you, but we all know now you weren't yourself last year, and we don't hold it against you. We don't, okay? But this is something I feel we can do to make some changes. And, to be fair, this time, we didn't start anything, they did."

By they, he meant every other house. For some reason, with Malice's Imperius-influenced outbursts, any truce or cessation of hostility was ended, and Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began to prank Slytherin students with a vengeance.

When she inquired, the Twins assured her they had nothing to do with it, and they promised her that they'd try to find and catch the culprits. She trusted them, so she was confident they were sincere. But still. Someone, or some people, were determined to break any chance of inter-house unity by launching full assaults and landing the blame squarely on various houses.

Umbridge was using the situation to establish more and more restrictive rules until everyone was chafing at the bit, and getting positively mutinous.

Already one or two students had opted to transfer schools, in the middle of their most important year for the Fifth and Seventh years.

Why did the Headmaster allow this to all happen?!

"Where's your mind gone off to now?" asked Draco in a good-natured way, and she shook her head.

"Sorry, Draco. I was just thinking about everything that's happened this whole year."

He nodded, "I can imagine. But please don't do something so stupid ever again?"

Malice smirked, "Can't promise that unless you promise to let cooler heads prevail."

Draco sighed, "It's not like we were all aiming for Harry. We were trying to stun his friends too. If you hadn't thrown yourself in the way, well you wouldn't be here, and we would have Potter and his gang to answer for whatever the blazes they're doing."

"The House rivalry should not be fueled no matter what!" Malice said hotly, feeling passionate about this, "If someone doesn't take steps to put a stop to it, it will only escalate and get worse!"

"What do you want us to do? Just sit there and take it? Newsflash, Malice, we're not all you," Draco glared at her, "we don't all live to see what new pranks have been put in our food or enjoy turning a corner and almost drown in a bloody swamp."

Malice huffed and looked away.

"Mal, I know where you're coming from, okay?" said Draco.

She turned to look at him with eyes full of hurt. "I know you want all the Houses to go back to the way they were last year before your...incident. But not everyone feels the same, clearly, and obviously, someone is working hard to ensure everyone hates us, but we haven't found any trace or evidence that we could use to expose the culprits, or learn their reasons."

"Exactly," replied Malice, "and just how many students do you know have that level of efficiency or skill? Not even the Twins are this good at hiding their tracks, and their pranks are harmless. A lot of the ones that people got hit with were borderline dark or an outright assault on various students."

Draco goggled, but shrugged, "I can't argue that, Mal, but if any of the Professors are behind it...why? And second of all, why?"

"Search me," Malice said unhelpfully...then frowned. "I feel like I know the answer, but it's just beyond my reach."

Draco patted her arm, "It'll come to you."

"Yeah...hey," she looked at him, "So...can you tell me what happened after I got stunned?"

The young man grimaced, "The Weaslette, she...heh, it was pretty brilliant of her, really. After Umbridge took Harry and Hermione out, she tried to eat some candy, and Vincent snatched it out of her hands, and distributed all the candies to the rest of us."

He slapped a palm to his face, "In a moment of absolute stupidity, I didn't question it, and just said, 'Prisoners don't get to enjoy candies'."

His face went green just at the memory. Malice grinned wickedly.

"It was puking pustules, wasn't it?"

He nodded.

"Hah! The Twins told me all about it, and showed it to me. I know how to recognize them."

"Yeah...I guess that's what we deserve for being so dumb. Poor Pansy. I don't think she quite forgave the Weaslette or Vincent for that."

She giggled a bit more, but sobered quickly. "Did you get in trouble for that?"

"No, actually," said Draco, "the lot of them escaped, but Professor Umbridge didn't return, and when she did...she seemed really jumpy."

He thought for a moment, then added, "She always jumped when she heard the sound of hooves."

"Huh."

"Oh, and I think it's safe to say Harry and that Cho girl are over." Draco added, looking at her with keen interest.

Malice shot him a sharp look, but she gave a wan smile. "Oh...that's...too bad."

"Yeah, you look absolutely heartbroken about it." He prodded her.

"Look, I won't pretend I'm enjoying any of it, but...Draco he won't even look at me anymore."

He shrugged at her. "Can't say I look too deeply into the mind of Potter, but if it helps any, he doesn't seem happy these days."

Malice processed the information, then shook her head, "No, it doesn't help. I want to talk to him, but it's like he has a sixth sense, and whenever I try, he's so entrenched and surrounded, and by all the people who won't even look at me anymore these days."

She scowled. "I hate this."

Draco looked uneasy, and uncertain what else to say, but he finally resolved something in his mind and said, "Well, at least this term is over, right? Maybe things will get better. After all, how much worse can it get?"

~ O ~

If Draco were here right now, Malice would have likely cursed him for what he'd said last year in the Hospital Wing. How much worse could it get? Evidently, they hadn't reached the stage of hellish yet. Because that was what Sixth Year shaped up to be.

They had Snape in his dream position as Defense Professor, and a retired Professor, Slughorn, had returned to resume his post as Potions Professor, so that was a plus at least.

She was also upset at watching Harry pining and eventually getting together with Ginny Weasley. Nothing against the girl personally, but it hurt no less to watch them. Harry looked happy at least, so there was that.

She turned her focus then on her House. The pranks and hostilities had now turned into a kind of cold war between the Houses, but it was almost the other three Houses against Slytherin. While she couldn't do anything about that in the immediate moment, she could at least look after her Housemates.

Carrying on a tradition of forging handwritings, she often left encouragements and treats for various students.

She even took Astoria under her wing after Daphne suffered a serious attack. All evidence seemed to point towards Gryffindor students who took a prank too far. But Daphne was in the Hospital Wing for nearly two weeks.

Though their friendship waned after the Fourth Year, she nonetheless carried on as if none of that happened. Astoria at least, never rebuffed or acted wary of Malice's presence, for which she was most grateful.

The younger witch was carrying Malice's cat, Midnight, in her arms, talking a mile a minute as they were going towards the Great Hall for lunch, when a loud scream greeted them. Looking at each other, the two witches raced in to see what had happened, and a gaggle of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws nearly bowled Malice over as they half-carried a distraught Susan Bones, whose face and arms looked burnt, towards the Hospital Wing.

"What in the blazes happened?" demanded Malice as she looked around.

Ron glanced up at her and scowled, but said nothing, and Pansy walked up to her, looking out the door where the large group went.

"Someone fed a cursed Hot-Hots to a wild hamgon, and put it on Susan's plate."

"Hot-Hots?" said Malice, "the new spicy candy that Fred and George made for people seeking a challenge of spicy food?"

"That's the one," Pansy nodded, "It was cursed to be even more potent than it already is, and the hamgon that ate it blasted Susan with fire, before it exploded itself, so Luna, Cho and Justin were all injured too."

"Any idea who did it?"

Pansy scowled at that, and whispered, "I don't know, but everyone's convinced it was Slytherin that did it."

"Oh no..."

"That's about right," said Pansy, "come on, you two, get to your seats, the lions over there look right ready to start hexing us where we stand."

Malice cast a worried glance at the Gryffindor table, and Harry locked eyes with her for a moment, but he then looked at Hermione to talk to her as if nothing had happened. She noted that he had a look of bewilderment on his face though, or maybe she imagined that.

Either way, she heeded Pansy's suggestion and settled in for lunch, then she whispered to Pansy, "Any word on Draco?"

Pansy instinctively kicked Malice in the ankle for that, then glared at her.

"Later," she mouthed.

Rubbing at her smarting ankle with her other foot, Malice gave a bare nod and ate her meal in silence.

~ O ~

"He's on the run, last I heard, he made it to France," said Pansy as they walked out of class back towards their dorms, "he'll be safe for now."

"You-Know-Who wasn't half pleased with how badly his father bollocksed things last year, huh?"

It seemed that Harry had confronted Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. He and five other students had joined him, and in the ensuing chaos, Voldemort had been exposed to the public, and undeniable proof of his return was made known at last. Minister Fudge could not recover his image and reputation with this revelation of course. Within a fortnight, he was sacked from his position.

The new Minister wasn't much better, but he was certainly full of bluster and hot air.

"Would you be?" Pansy retorted, "He was lucky to make it out of England in one piece. It was a close thing too. His mad aunt was hot on his heels. Good thing his mother had the foresight to send him a warning and make preparations."

She looked at Malice, "You were the last person to ever see him."

"I know...I hadn't realized how bad it was." Malice shook her head.

Lucius and Narcissa died shortly before this term started. It seemed that Voldemort wanted to punish Lucius by making him kill his own wife for her betrayal of letting Draco escape. He refused of course, and for all the man's fault, Lucius loved his wife and son deeply enough to kill and be killed for them. He'd slain Theodore Nott Sr., and Narcissa took down Antonin Dolohov before they were executed by everyone else.

Poor Theo was a bit of a wreck. Not that there was any love lost between father and son, but he was his father, and it still hurt him. He had not been himself this whole year so far. Always nervous, crying and looking upset.

"Things must be smashing good at Match Manor," Pansy lightly mocked, "if you could be so oblivious to reality, Mal."

"Pansy...I..." Malice tried to protest, but the other girl waved her off.

"I'm going to do my homework, I'll see you later."

Sighing, she decided to send a letter to her parents.

~ O ~

Malice frowned at her parents' letter, and considering the conversation she'd had with Pansy just a few weeks prior about the Malfoys, the tiny witch began to feel icicles of dread in her spirit. They'd given her a key to a house with far more security than Match Manor itself ever had, along with a detailed series of instructions, and the assurance that there were enough preserved supplies to provide for families.

Families. Plural.

Her parents knew bad things were coming, and were making preparations for her. They also knew Malice's nature and tendencies. Which also meant the house was probably a lot larger than she was thinking. Maybe even had a large plot of land. And under a bally Fidelius! The location was given and once she read it, an impressive piece of charms work made the words vanish off the parchment.

Her mother's work, no doubt.

They also allotted her inheritance. She had access and rights to everything of the Match estate. The businesses and finances. She did not like how it was reading more and more like a goodbye letter. They promised that they'd try to meet her there, but if they didn't, they demanded a promise that she wouldn't do anything foolish and make their efforts a waste. And that they loved her.

She sent a letter of her own, making the promise but demanding the same of them. She sent off the owl with her reply, and hoped that it reached them in time. She just had a horrid feeling in her gut.

~ O ~

"Harry!" said Malice as she found him on the path near the Shrieking Shack.

He was just lying there in the snow, on his back. The suspicious red flecks around him gave her the clue that he was not just having a lie down in the snow, not that he would be doing such a thing in the first place!

She had been learning diagnostics and healing charms, and now she was glad for the knowledge. Once she was satisfied that he could be safely moved, she gently cradled his head in her lap, as she ran her wand over his body, curing the wounds. Someone had hit him with a fairly nasty curse, as she could only undo so much of the damage.

"Harry? Harry?" called Malice, "Oh who did this to you..."

She glanced around, and realized they were a little off the path, and quite hidden. It was probably why someone got the drop on him. Having done all she could for now, she realized he needed proper care from Madam Pomfrey, and she called out, "Help! Someone! I need help!"

She was amazed at how swiftly she heard people arriving, and was even more relieved to see it was Ron and Hermione. "Oh thank Merlin! Ron, Hermione, he was attacked, I don't know who, but we need to get him to-"

"FLIPENDO!" cried Ron, aiming his wand right at Malice.

"OWPH!" Malice was blasted several feet back by the spell which hit her square in the chest.

"RON STOP!" shrieked Hermione, "She probably didn't attack him!"

"You don't know that!" the redhead retorted, "Maybe she did Harry in and tried to make it look like she's helping."

"It's Malice, Ron, for goodness' sake!"

"Yeah, look at that name. Says plenty, don't it?"

He picked Harry up from the snow, and looked at her, "You wanna defend the virtues of the snakes or you wanna help me get your friend to Madam Pomfrey?"

Hermione stood there a moment, then finally said, "Let's go."

When Malice recovered enough to sit up, she saw Hermione cast her an apologetic look. And the tiny witch sighed. She should have expected that.

Tensions between Slytherin and Gryffindor were at an all time high. Attacks had been intensifying, and no one knew who or why. But for all Malice's efforts to broker peace, someone worked harder to destroy the trust. It was no wonder Ron just took a Curse-First-Ask-Questions-Later approach. She didn't hold it against him, but Merlin that hurt. In more ways than just physical.

She did not understand why Ron would grow to distrust her to such an extent that he would assault her right away.

Then again, going back to what she'd been thinking about, maybe it wasn't a surprise. Ron always was the more impulsive of the lot. Still, it stung.

Pulling herself back to her feet, she slowly limped back to the castle, seeking out Madam Pomfrey herself.

~ O ~

"Mal?" called Theodore.

"Yes?" Malice turned to look at her friend, and saw what looked like a stunner heading for her.

When she awoke, she was in the middle of a dusty and unused classroom, her head spinning, and her body a little sore from lying in one place for too long. There were sounds of sobbing nearby, and she looked in alarm to see Theodore, clutching his had in his arms, rocking himself back and forth on a chair. "Can't do it, can't do it, can't do it." he muttered to himself over and over again.

She noticed her wand was right by her side, and she picked it up, then pocketed it.

"Theo?" she said softly, and he looked up at her in alarm.

"I'm sorry..." he said, "...I'm so sorry...I...I can't do it no more."

Malice began to put it all together. "It was you behind the attacks this year, isn't it?"

He looked shocked at first, but then resignation took over and he just nodded. Burying his face in his palms, he cried even harder. "I didn't want to!" he sobbed, "B-but I had no choice! They'll kill them if I don't...!"

Malice placed a hand on his shoulder, "Who would they kill?"

There was no need to ask who was the "they" that would be doing the killing.

"My mother, my brother and s-s-sister...!" said Theodore, and he, "Th-they got 'em 'fore they could get to me uncle's...it...my father, he knew, and he took his own family hostage."

Malice's heart broke for her friend, and she gently squeezed his shoulder, giving him what support she could.

"Said it...said it was an honour to serve the dark tosser, and I should do what you-know-who orders me to do." He scowled at the mention of his own father's words, "Said that my friendship with you had made me soft...weak, so he said my success would spare mum, and my siblings...but failure..."

It made a lot of sense now. The way the attacks varied in ferocity and intent, but for all that, no one had been killed. The targets also made sense now. The Greengrasses were secretly of the Light, just like her own family, and the Bones, Abbott, Finch-Fletchley, Lovegood and many other families were friends or allies of Harry.

So he hurt them, or at least made it look severe enough to be a botched murder attempt.

It was not good, but Malice understood the circumstances. She wondered what she'd do if her own family had been held hostage.

She frowned then, "Sending you after the children of the Light families makes some sort of sense, but ultimately doesn't do much. If anything, it would galvanize the parents and family members of the victims," said Malice, "who is the big target?"

"After you?" he looked at her, "Dumbledore..."

Malice gaped. She was considered a high value target?! Why?

"Dumbledore, I can understand," said Malice, "but why me?"

Theodore gave her an incredulous look. And he barked out a choked laugh, wiping some of his tears away roughly, "Y-you unified four houses for four years, Mal...you did the impossible. And you are still trying, even up to now, to bring peace and unity back to the school, to unite them behind Harry...people aren't blind, you know."

"B-but...they all hate me!"

"Not you, personally," Theodore shook his head, "they're just paranoid because of the nasty pranks last year - and that wasn't me - and the attacks this year..."

"Oh."

They wanted me to-to kill you, or hurt you so bad...and...and..." he broke down again, slipping off the chair, and on to his knees.

"...but I am weak! I can't do this...!"

Kneeling down in front of him, she pulled him into a hug, giving him what comfort she could provide. She felt furious for him, and for what he'd been forced to do. But she was more worried about something he might not want to consider.

"You're not weak," she whispered, "you're strong for the choice you made. And I thank you for it."

"They're already dead, aren't they?" He said so softly, she almost didn't hear it, and she blinked rapidly, wondering if she imagined it, or he really read her mind.

"Theo...when Malfoy killed your father...what are the chances the others would let your family go or spare them?" After a thought, she added, "And would your family not retaliate or try to?"

He went still in her arms as he thought about it.

"Mother would fight," he said at last, "tooth, nail, everything. My brother would follow after her, he's a right Gryffindor he is. My sister..."

He cried again. "She's beautiful...like you...in looks and in character. They'll..."

He closed his eyes, "I only hope it was quick and painless."

Malice chewed her lip, she didn't like how resigned he became, and more, she wanted to give him comfort and hope, but...she couldn't bring herself to lie like that. Nevertheless, "Until you know for sure...I-I guess no news is good news...unless they...?"

He shook his head, "No...nothing. The last message was just to find some way to kill the Headmaster."

He barked a bitter laugh, "Might as well as me to fly to the moon, that."

He pulled out of her grasp and looked at her, "They wanted Draco to do this, y'know?"

"Oh Merlin," she laughed weakly, "the unspeakable chaos."

After a while, he too, laughed with her.

"What do I do?" he asked after a while.

"Tell the Headmaster," said Malice, her look deadly serious, "you don't want to keep hurting people, do you?"

He shook his head and she said, "Then tell him. He will know what to do, and I'm sure he will come up with a solution."

"But I've already hurt so many people."

"I think he knows," said Malice, "but I'll go with you. Okay?"

"O-okay."

She led him out, keeping an arm on him and gave him an encouraging smile everytime he looked at her.

"Merlin," he said after a while, "Potter's an idiot."

"What?" Malice looked at him in confusion.

"Letting you go is the dumbest thing he has ever done."

She laughed weakly at that, but it did make her wonder about the circumstances of their break-up.

~ O ~

"Excuse me?!" demanded Malice as she straightened up in her chair, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE SHOULD KILL YOU?!"

Theodore had a blank stare on his face, and it seemed like he saw death in his future. Maybe he was.

"Why, Miss Match, I wasn't being vague or mysterious," said Dumbledore in a matter of fact tone, "I think that statement is quite clear cut. Mr. Nott should do exactly as he was ordered to by Voldemort, and kill me."

"Theo, let's go," said Malice, "I-I was wrong. The Headmaster needs to see Madam Pomfrey now."

"Miss Match," Dumbledore held out his right hand in a stopping motion and Malice stopped, but not because of his action.

It was the withered black hand.

"That's...that's a nasty curse, that is," said Theodore, "what could do that?"

"Something extremely deadly," Dumbledore said simply, "and irreversible, I'm afraid."

"So...you're dying." Malice observed.

The aged man nodded and looked at Theodore, "Therefore, my solution is quite simple, you see. I am in a lot of pain, and when the end comes...I understand what I feel now will be preferable to what comes next. So you will be doing me a mercy."

"But why Theo!" demanded the tiny witch, "Why not Madam Pomfrey or a certified medical specialist? Certainly they are more qualified to do what you ask."

"Yes, but I am, to use the phrase, 'killing two birds with one stone'," said Dumbledore, "if Mr. Nott here fulfills Voldemort's orders, it will ingratiate him to the man, and maybe, just maybe, he can find out for sure, what happened to his family. Is that not what you want, my dear boy?"

Looking at his face, Malice realized Theodore was seriously considering it. Even though he was partly resigned to the high possibility that they were already dead. While on the one hand, Malice couldn't fault his desire and the Headmaster's logic. On the other, it banked on far too many ifs.

"Theo...don't do it. You'll be going into a den of wolves. We'll think of something else." she begged.

"Miss Match," Dumbledore said softly, "you should let Mr. Nott make his own decision. This is, after all, his family and life."

Malice scowled at the old man. There was some feeling of anger in her that she couldn't explain whenever she looked at the Headmaster. It was quite strong throughout her Fifth Year, and lessened somewhat this year. But now that she was here in front of him, it bubbled anew and she all but wanted to take the decision out of Theodore's hands by offing the old man herself.

What she did however was leap to her feet and slam her palms painfully against his large oak desk and tried her best to glower at him with all the imposition she could muster with a four foot nine inch frame, "YOU ARE ASKING A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD STUDENT UNDER YOUR CARE TO COMMIT MURDER! NO MATTER HOW JUSTIFIED OR WHETHER IT'S REQUESTED BY YOURSELF IS IRRELEVANT! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ANYONE?! I WILL NOT-"

"Stupefy."

Malice saw black.

~ O ~

"GAH!" Malice shot up from the bed.

"Easy, easy!" Pansy said as she caught Malice by the shoulder.

Malice felt decidedly discombobulated as she looked around and she tried to remember what happened before she went to bed, and frowned. Then she turned green. "I feel sick."

"Do you want to go to Madam Pomfrey's?" asked Pansy, "You've been really out of sorts this past week."

Malice froze, then slowly turned her head to lock with Pansy, "P-past week?"

"Oh Merlin," said Pansy, and she called out, "Daph, Trace! Mil! It happened again!"

Soon, the three girls came rushing back into the dorm, worried looks on their faces as they surrounded Malice.

"That certainly took longer than expected," said Daphne, "but whoever did it was either different and more careful, or they improved."

"No, they didn't," said Tracey, "I told you that Malice isn't that huggy."

At that remark, the girl in question arched an eyebrow.

Tracey shook her head, "I mean, don't get me wrong, you do hug plenty, but not to the extent you were doing. You were downright lucky that Cho didn't try hexing you. Left her right confused by your increased...friendliness."

Malice frowned, feeling like she'd forgotten something dreadfully important, but no amount of trying would bring the memories to the surface.

She rubbed her temples and said, "I feel a headache coming on."

"You've been feeling like that a lot lately," Pansy felt her forehead, "damn, you're starting to burn up."

"Let's take her to Madam Pomfrey's," declared Milicent, and without inquiring, she easily lifted Malice off the bed.

"MIL!" cried Malice, and she blushed.

"Salazar," said Milicent, "you're even lighter than I thought!"

"Who would have thought, huh?" remarked Tracey, "considering the way she eats. Where do you put all that food, Mal?"

"In a black hole...Mil, really, y-you don't have to carry me all the way to the Hospital Wing. I'm not that sick."

"I don't mind," said Milicent, and she trooped down the stairs, with the other girls in tow, and all the way to the Hospital Wing, and Malice swore the entire school saw her in her nightgown. Oh the rumour mill was going to have a field day. That was, if there was nothing better for them to talk about. The Headmaster dying would certainly be a distraction.

~ O ~

She now regretted even thinking such thoughts. She'd been far more ill than anyone expected, and the fever lasted for a week, despite Madam Pomfrey's best attempts at identifying and curbing the illness. She was at a loss and had even consulted a Healer from St. Mungo's, which she was almost going to send Malice to, except the Healer too, had never quite seen anything like what was afflicting the girl. The fever came and went, but never broke.

Somewhere in that time, the school had been attacked by Death Eaters. They'd found a way in somehow. And to a lot of people's amazement, it had not been due to a Slytherin. Cormac McLaggen, a particularly entitled Gryffindor, claimed credit for the deed. At least that was what she gathered when Ron had been brought to the Hospital Wing for injuries during the attack, and was swearing vengeance on the traitor.

Even in her feverish state, Malice picked up on this information, but as soon as he saw her, he completely clammed up, scowling at her as if her very existence was a personal affront to him.

She was rather glad when he left the next day.

Cormac had let the Death Eaters into the castle, but it was Theodore Nott that did the Headmaster in. And Malice was puzzled as to why she felt like she should know something about that. Harry had been injured during the short battle, and when her fever finally broke in the second week, she was stunned to find that Harry was still there too.

"We-ll," said Malice, her voice cracking a little from disuse, "this is new."

Harry, who was already awake, and actually looking at her, frowned.

"It's always been one or the other before," she explained, "this is the first time where we're both staying in the Hospital Wing at the same time."

Harry chuckled dryly, then his face fell once more, and he looked away from her.

"Hey," she said, "Harry, what is it?"

As she pulled herself weakly into a sitting position, Harry finally said, "It...the Headmaster's funeral was a few days ago..."

Malice schooled her expression, but she still felt irrational anger towards the man whenever he was mentioned or she saw him in passing. It was vexing because she didn't know why she would feel such towards him. It wasn't like they talked all that much, did they? She was a fairly exemplary student, and as such had little reason to be sent to see him personally. But she always felt like she'd been in his office on more than one occasion, and whenever she was near the stairway that led to his office, she always looked at it in puzzlement.

"...I couldn't even get out to attend," Harry went on, heedless of Malice's thoughts, "but that's not the part that upsets me."

He looked at the girl again, "It's what he said, about you."

"Me?" asked Malice, intrigued now.

"Yeah...he said," Harry frowned in thought, "he said that he regrets coming between you and me, and that he hopes we could someday find it in ourselves to forgive him for what he had to do."

"Odd," said Malice, "and yet, I believe him."

"You too?" asked Harry, and the girl blinked at him.

"I didn't feel like I needed to question him about it, and there was this..."

"...anger," said Malice, "but you can't understand why."

"Yeah," Harry looked wonderingly at her, "why did we split up, Mal?"

"I wish I knew," said Malice.

"There was one last thing he'd said to me," Harry drew her attention again, "don't blame Theodore or the Slytherins."

She goggled at that, "But Theo killed him."

"I know, I was there. I watched it all happen."

They both fell silent after that, and after a while, Malice looked over at him, "Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's make a promise, for uh...next year."

When he waited for her to go on, she said, "Let's not meet for end of term here?"

He laughed, "I will move heaven and earth to make sure that happens."

"Even cross over from the dead to secure that promise?" she asked mischievously.

"Count on it."

She reached out to take his hand, and he stretched out his own to meet her halfway, and they stayed that way for quite a while, enjoying this brief moment without complications.

~ O ~

She spent nearly two weeks grieving for her family. They couldn't keep their promise. Death Eaters found them first. They actually tried to come after her, but went to the wrong place. They sought her out in the Slytherin Dorms. When it came time to leave Hogwarts, she was given a Portkey by Headmistress McGonaggal to Match Manor, and was so glad she knew how to apparate already, because one clumsy Death Eater was waiting for her there.

She fled to her safehouse and there, was able to call on her house elves, and Mrs. Asphodel, the old nursemaid, and Mr. Woodsworth, the family butler, who managed to escape the massacre at Match Manor. Through them, she learned all the atrocities that were visited upon her parents. It seemed they were tormented and executed for fraternizing with Muggles excessively. It was just an excuse to commit murder. Nothing else.

She decided to honour her parents as best as they could. As the last living Match, she inherited everything, and so it fell to her to prepare, plan and make use of the resources made available to her.

But first, she had to attend a hearing for Dumbledore's will.

The fact that she was included in the will hearing was a curiosity.

More so, because the people that came to see her about the will were Molly and Ginny Weasley! She knew them, and they her, but it wasn't like they were particularly close. Plus Ginny gave her a strange look that was a cross between hostility and friendliness. Paradoxical. Actually, that shouldn't have been Malice's first concern. This entire plot of land was supposed to be unplottable, and under a Fidelius! That would have to mean that they were trusted enough to know about it to be able to walk in unharmed and unchallenged by the wards and defenses.

Molly quickly explained how she came to be aware of the place, and Malice thought she ought to name it something besides Match Manor the Second.

"Your parents were friends of ours," Molly said with a smile, and at Malice's confused look, she went on, "Arthur and I would have been around a lot more if we weren't so busy all the time. You understand, right?"

"Yes, I do," said Malice, though she was fairly confident their financial status had something to do with it.

Still, she was eager to follow them back, since it wasn't too far away, and more importantly, Harry was there. After the loss, she just wanted to be around the people she cared deeply for. But what happened next left Malice deeply disturbed. For she had never experienced a depth of emotion on that level before, not even when she thought about Dumbledore.

Not too long after she arrived, she'd been seated in the living room, when Harry, Ron and Hermione entered, she felt glad to see Harry again, and even had a friendly smile for Ron. She wasn't sure what had happened, but after Fourth Year, Ron had become quiet dour towards her. Hermione was distant, but neutral, and of course, Harry, he seemed distant himself. Somehow, she drifted apart, and she couldn't for the life of her understand why, neither could most other people.

"What's she doing here?" demanded Ron, glaring in her direction.

Malice's smile dropped, replaced with a hurt expression.

"Ron," Hermione tried to warn him, but the young man was heedless.

"We already have to deal with her lot in school," he was near to shouting, and Harry was stunned, looking between her and his redhead friend, "but now she's showing up in my home, cool as cucumber? So she can report to her master about us?"

Something snapped in Malice, and she rose from her seat, walked over to Ron, and the resounding crack as her left palm slapped him as hard as she was able, she began, "My master as you called Tom Riddle, sent his goons to kill my family, even the servants and any house elf that weren't able to get away quickly enough. That's over a dozen people, including the elves!"

Ron and the others looked horrified, but before he could speak, Malice cut him off, "NO! YOU WILL NOT SPEAK! I'VE HAD ENOUGH WITH YOUR UNJUSTIFIED BELLIGERENCE THESE LAST FEW YEARS! WHAT DID I EVER DO TO OFFEND YOU?! OR DO YOU JUST ASSUME ALL OF SLYTHERIN ARE EVIL BECAUSE OUR ANIMAL MASCOT IS A SNAKE? WOULD YOU MAKE A BLANKET JUDGEMENT IF IT WAS A HAMSTER?!"

Someone behind Malice coughed lightly, but the girl seemed to be building up some solid steam now that she'd started, and her face was an unhealthy shade of red no one had ever seen on her before, "If you've forgotten, the one who let the Death Eaters into the school was a Gryffindor!"

Ron's face turned an equal shade of red to the tiny witch before him and from nowhere, his wand was in his hand, but pointed at the ground for the moment, "But who was the one who killed the Headmaster?" he reminded her with an ugly sneer.

"Ron, wait," said Harry.

"No Harry, she brought it up, and if she wants to play the blame game, let's not forget we caught her trying to attack you, mate. And was too much of a coward to even admit it, tried to pretend she was helping you." He never moved his eyes from Malice, "You going to deny it? Hmm? C'mon. You're so righteous and innocent? Prove it!"

Malice's jaw opened and closed a few times, her eyes wide with shock, unbelieving of the insinuation being made here. About the man she loved. Still loved. Attack Harry?

She didn't think she could get more furious or more violent, but she was wrong, and with surprising force, she shoved the six foot Ron in the chest, sending him stumbling back several feet.

"GO TO HELL, WEASLEY!" she shrieked, "YOU THINK YOU'RE SO CLEVER AT READING PEOPLE?! I CAN'T BELIEVE I USED TO CARE ABOUT YOU! OHH! FINE!"

She stalked up to him and grabbed his wand arm and raised it to her head, "YOU'RE SO SURE I'M SO EVIL AND A THREAT TO YOUR FAMILY? THAN HEX ME DEAD! USE THE WAND I BOUGHT FOR YOU TO DO IT!"

"What?" came several voices.

Malice laughed mirthlessly, "Oh, yes, I never brought that up, did I?"

Molly, who'd been standing at the door to the kitchen when the commotion started, was looking at Malice in surprise. Turning her head a little, Malice noticed that almost the entire family were gathered around the place, annnnnd the new Minister of Magic, Scrimgeour, was also watching with some interest.

"After your mother sent you that howler in second year, and you tried to fix your old wand with spellotape, I felt bad for you, and made a private call to Mr. Ollivander. Never occurred to you to wonder why you only needed to pay one sickle for a smashing new wand like yours?"

"I thought he was just..." Ron started.

"He runs a business, Weasley! He can't well give his wands away for nothing, can he?"

Hermione and Harry both looked livid, and sent glares at Ron now.

"So hey, since I'm such an evil bitch, maybe you should snap that wand now, right? After all, maybe I'm corrupting you through that. Ten galleons and fifteen sickles by the way. It was a custom special that could not fit anybody. Go ahead! Curse away first, then of course, snap the wand if you're so inclined."

Ron's hand wavered, but before he could make any choice, Molly was beside him and roughly shoved his arm down, "That's enough of this."

"Right you are, Mrs. Weasley," said Malice and turned to leave when the Minister cleared his throat and she remembered that she was here for another reason.

George let out a low whistle, then shook his head at Ron, a disapproving look on his face.

"If you can all set aside your drama for a moment," he said, "I need to speak to the four of you."

He gestured between Malice, Harry, Ron and Hermione, "In private."

Mr. Weasley kindly provided the Sitting Room, and the four teenagers and grizzled Minister trooped over. With the tension still a bit high, Malice opted to stand, but was speechless when Ron made a clear gesture for her to sit beside Harry and Hermione, sandwiching the boy. Ron stood to the side of the sofa.

If Scrimgeour was intrigued by the exchange he made no sign of it, and stared hard at the teens.

It turned out that Albus Dumbledore had left a number of things to each of the teens, which was a bit of a surprise, especially for Malice and Ron, neither of whom knew or recognized any direct interaction with the man, and the dark-haired girl was still puzzling over her irrational anger towards him everytime he was mentioned to her, or whenever she had seen him in school.

The gifts were peculiar on their own, and there was a new mystery in Ron's complete one-eighty in personality. It was beyond being apologetic, as far as the girl was concerned, and still raw from the loss of her own family, the girl's emotions were too much of a jumble and she'd resorted to keeping her head down and doing her best not to acknowledge anything.

The one thing that was mutual was their distrust of Scrimgeour, who had held onto everything for thirty days, using some rot that the items may be dark in nature. Because yes, Ron's Deluminator, an aged copy of the Tales of Beedle the Bard and a used Golden Snitch were most definitely harbouring something dark.

The Minister was especially intrigued by the memories contained in the vials given to Malice. The ministry desperately wished to know what was in them, but only Malice could open them, since Dumbledore had somehow obtained her blood to lock them up with and secured in a simple Puzzle Box that someone in the Ministry managed to solve easily enough, but the vials themselves were untouchable. Bit of ingenious work, that.

"The Ministry has pensieves you can use," said Scrimgeour.

Malice scowled and finally looked up at the man, "Only because you really want to know what's in them."

She tuned out his answer about cooperating with the Ministry of Magic, for the good of everyone, and simply returned her gaze to the box of vials in her lap, knowing they were the answer to a fair few mysteries three years in the making. Harry lost his temper with the Minister, who similarly lost patience with the teens, prompting the three who were seated to rise and point wands, but it was the Minister who burned a hole in Harry's shirt.

"Mal, don't," said Ron and he stood in front of her, training his wand on the Minister.

The man left in a huff after that.

With his departure, some of the tensions left, and Malice, despite being invited by Molly to stay for Harry's birthday, just couldn't. She would love to stay with Harry a little longer, but this just couldn't wait. She knew she needed to view these memories right away, and there was a reason for all the gaps in her memories that she'd been accumulating over the years. So she politely declined and was heading out over the hill when she heard a voice she honestly wasn't expecting to call on her.

"Mal, wait!" cried Ron.

They were a good one hundred meters away already, but even from here she could see that several of the Weasleys were watching them.

When he saw her guarded look, and the way her left hand was twitching nervously, as if getting ready to draw out her concealed wand, he held his hands in a placating manner, "I'm so sorry."

The sincerity in his voice made her hand stop twitching nervously.

"I knew...actually..." said Ron, "...but somehow, I didn't remember. Until you told me...then it was like everything just snapped back into place."

He kicked his toe into the ground, staring at it for a moment, seemingly uncomfortable under Malice's scrutiny, "Then everything I did the last three years just...didn't make sense, y'know?"

He looked at her nervously, but was relieved when he saw acceptance in her face.

"I do know, Ron. It's exactly what I've been thinking too."

She regarded him thoughtfully, then added, "I've been imperiused and obliviated many times now."

He gaped at her, and she continued, "There are days, even weeks where I was not myself, acting differently, or I lose days of memories. I think it...damaged me."

"H-how?" asked Ron.

"I was sick for a week and a half near the end of term, remember? You saw me in the Hospital Wing."

"Oh...yeah."

Malice frowned, "I did a little research, and I think extensive obliviations and imperius curses can do some serious harm."

"But who...?"

"Snape, maybe," said Malice, "possibly Dumbledore."

Ron gaped again, "B-but why?"

"I don't know," she then gestured at the box in her arms, the silvery glow of the memories promising answers, "reckon this will put things into perspective."

"Yeah, I suppose it would. Hey, Mal?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't you stay a bit? I think mum'll love it. She thinks you don't eat enough."

Malice laughed at that, "I think we both know that's not true."

"I'm sure Harry'd love it if you stayed," he tried again.

Malice hesitated, and she looked over Ron's shoulder, and she saw Harry standing at the door. And beside him, Ginny.

Ginny, who was Harry's girlfriend now.

"Thanks Ron," said Malice, "but I really should look at these memories, and I'll let you know if I find anything valuable. I've got a pensieve at home that I can use."

"L-let me come with you then...not right, leaving you to travel home alone," he said, and Malice could see he was very apologetic still, and wanted to make amends in some manner.

She considered his offer, but finally shook her head, "Go back to your family, Ron. Spend as much time as you can with them. Cherish every moment with them...you...you never know when..."

She couldn't finish the sentence, but it was obvious enough to Ron, who nodded.

"You floo us if you need anything, yeah?"

"I will."

She watched him head back down the hill towards the Burrow. Malice spent one last wistful moment staring at Harry from afar, and then she turned and walked back home.

~ O ~

"Oh that bastard!" shrieked Malice in fury.

It all came back to her now. Dumbledore's justification for what he did was that Malice and her relationship with Harry Potter, while a beautiful thing, would ultimately lead to his demise just like his father before him, as he would choose a less reckless path, or would not journey out if he still had her in his life in the ensuing years.

On one hand, she understood where the Headmaster was coming from, but on the other hand, she hated that the choice was taken out of her hands.

And the volume of memories she had to still view told her that there were far many more times he felt he needed to remove her memories or prevent her interference in some way. Including uniting the four houses by sowing doubts and distrust, so that Voldemort could see a supposed vulnerability in the Headmaster and the school, and thus fail to notice that he was up to something else, seeking a means to permanently end Voldemort's reign. Harry tied into it all somehow.

A Prophecy had something to do with it.

Then there was poor Theo. She knew now that he had stunned her because of her outrage at what the Headmaster was asking of the Slytherin boy, and he'd already made up his mind. The Headmaster tasked him with ending his life, and gaining entry into the ranks of the Death Eaters, so that he could determine the fate of his family for certain. Theo agreed to all this, and Dumbledore then obliviated Malice and put her under an Imperius curse, though he might have been a bit excessive with his verbiage and it made her a tad overly affectionate.

But there were a host of other weeks and periods where either Snape or Dumbledore had her under mind control or memory wipes. The volume culminated in the unusual magical phenomena she experienced as a persistent and debilitating fever.

She had initially been about to floo Harry and let him inform the others about what she had learned, but remembered that they were preparing for a wedding. Deciding that maybe the Weasleys and Harry had enough on their plate without adding the stress of countless memory losses, as Malice was not the only one imperiused or obliviated.

She and Harry had been subject to a mild compulsion to stray apart. They'd been hit multiple times each year, due to their genuine love for one another making it harder for the Headmaster to keep the spell alive.

"I'm glad he's dead!" she shouted into the empty room, "Or I'd have done him in myself!"

An owl arrived at one of the Redirect Towers she had for mail, and she quickly ordered an elf to retrieve the letter.

It was from Draco as it turned out! He had received a badly wounded pair of Greengrass sisters, who barely escaped an attack on their home. Their parents didn't make it. He was now planning to return to England to join the fight against Voldemort. There was no point hiding because at the rate things were going, France would be taken next, and then Germany, and then the rest of the world.

Malice was furious at Voldemort now, and she quickly penned a reply to Draco, giving him, Daphne and Astoria the location of her safehouse.

~ O ~

"Did you miss me?" came a familiar drawl a few days later.

Malice turned from the map she was studying to see a smirking face she'd not seen in nearly two years. "Draco!"

She ran into his arms and hugged him tightly.

He chuckled and gently pushed her back to look at her, "Damn, Malice, did you even bother to grow at all?"

The girl pouted and punched him in the shoulder, "I'll have you know, Malfoy, that I have grown by a full centimeter and a half since you last saw me!"

He laughed and then sobered up, "Listen, Daph is going to make jokes about herself and her injuries...just, try not to look too horrified?"

This made Malice blanch. How badly had Daphne been hurt?

"Do I get a hug too?" came a hoarse, raspy voice, and Malice bit back a shriek at the mangled girl who limped forward.

The hair on her left temple was gone and a messy layer of bandages covered her bloody left eye socket, and judging by the way the gauze sank inwards, Malice could tell Daphne was missing the eye altogether. Her right arm ended in a stump at the elbow, and her left leg ended just below the knee, where a wooden stump substituted as an artificial leg. She let her beautiful long golden hair cover the side, but Daphne had gone through hell and came out no longer whole.

"Oh come now, Mal, I know I got a scar or two, but I'm still prettier than a Veela." said the girl.

Malice tried to laugh, but honestly, she wasn't sure she could hide how horrified she was. "Welcome to...Welcome to Match Manor the Second. Food and water is yours, and may you find sucor and rest in these troubled times." she said formally.

"Thanks," said Daphne dryly, "now enough with all that and come here!"

She pulled Malice into a tight hug.

"Now, what's a girl have to do to get a room around here and a nice bath?"

Malice smiled and showed the sisters to their own rooms, and Draco. Daphne's exhaustion showed when she lay down on the bed and just fell asleep right there. Draco proceeded to give a run down on what had transpired.

She, Astoria and Tracey were together, having done some shopping when the Greengrass estate was attacked. In the ensuing melee, Daphne discovered a very useful talent of hers which was for breaking anti-apparition wards in a single decisive hit. But it also took everything out of her, and Astoria had to carry her away, while Tracey stayed behind to hold off five or so Death Eaters.

There was a Fiendfyre spell cast and Daphne was not sure if Tracey managed to disapparate before getting caught in the flames, but that accounted for the majority of Daphne's injuries and limbs lost. Draco wasn't exactly living in the lap of luxury, and his meager supplies were barely enough for him let alone the two girls. Plus, though she hadn't said it, Daphne wanted to find Tracey.

Astoria had become almost catatonic since, and Malice noted how the girl was subdued and largely unaware of her surroundings. It troubled Draco a great deal, who'd been picking up whatever information he could wherever possible. What little he got, did not assure him, and now he was back to make sure the war ended here.

"Hasn't Potter done anything?" complained Draco after a while.

Malice then updated him on all that transpired, as well as most of what she had recently regained thanks to the memories in the vials.

"Blimey, so it was old Snape and the Headmaster that was messing with your mind?!" he cried out in alarm.

"Yeah, though he does explain why."

"Don't make it right or better," Draco frowned, "you're lucky to still have all your faculties."

"I know..."

~ O ~

It turned out that she might have wanted to inform Harry, Ron and Hermione sooner about the lost memories, as the wedding at the Weasleys had been interrupted and the trio had disappeared in the chaos, with no way to contact them, and unable to risk the security of Haven, as she had taken to naming the little town that was forming around her hidden home, she had no choice but to wish them luck on whatever quest they were on.

She had her own in the meantime.

Aside from taking in displaced orphans and refugees from the war, she had learned that Voldemort had reactivated the Taboo on his name. Fortunately, few people dared to speak his name to begin with, so it was mostly only Malice who had to actively get out of the habit. A fair few of her schoolmates were taking refuge with her, including Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and Milicent. None of whom wanted or agreed with their parents on the matter of serving Voldemort, not after direct attempts on the lives of Draco, the Greengrasses and Tracey.

Now, though, as more and more refugees were being found, some were even building new homes on the land Malice graciously opened up to them. It seemed like her parents had anticipated this, and Muggle suppliers or trusted squibs and Muggleborns had come in with large volumes of resources to start building what might well become a new magical town in light of what happened to Diagon Alley and even Hogsmeade.

But Malice's own home only hosted her immediate friends, most of them her surviving yearmates save for Theodore and Tracey. For the former, Malice could only offer a prayer that he lived still, and for the latter, considering what happened to Daphne, who wasn't even the target of the cursed flame, she rather hoped that if Tracey had been harmed by the fire, that it was at least quick.

Daphne still held out hope.

They were sitting around a table one evening, and they'd managed to coax a smile out of Astoria after the longest time, when Draco made a remark that made Malice want to kick herself.

"I bet if you still hadn't used your Romani Wish Crystal, it would come in mighty handy right now."

At Malice's complete look of shock, the room went silent, to see what she would say.

"I never used it."

~ O ~

The problem was that if the crystal was still intact, it was in Match Manor, which as far as Malice knew, was still under guard for some reason.

"Maybe because they're expecting you to try and retrieve stuff from there," mused Draco, "or because they can't get past certain defenses."

"The latter is possible," said Malice, "father used Muggle methods alongside magical as a double safety measure. It might have served to protect rare and powerful possessions. All of which is mine now."

"Then we should get it all back," said Daphne, "we'll accompany you."

Malice had to argue against it. Ever since she recovered, Daphne had been overeager to prove herself, and volunteered to do everything, and it was all they could do to curb her increasing recklessness, for Astoria's sake. Reminding her that Astoria needed her usually worked most times.

"Pansy and Blaise scouted it from outside," said Draco, "they could only see one Death Eater, seems to be a Quidditch player. Always rode on a broom any chance."

Malice nodded, "If he's so busy flying about, chances are better we could get in from a secret path I know."

When she was a child, Malice had an underground path from her playhouse to the manor. As they had not destroyed her manor completely, that meant there were a number of reasons they hadn't done so yet. First being the valuable artifacts within that no Cursebreaker could get through because simply put, only the blood of the Match could access it, and secondly, even if they found a way around that, the simple yet ingenious Muggle security would stump wizards. And since Voldemort's regime hated Muggleborns and barely tolerated Half-Bloods...

Daphne was quite put out, but finally acquiesced when Malice pointed out the narrow tunnel was made for a very small person, and had space for just one person at a time. It was well-known that Daphne was claustrophobic, and Draco was practically going to have to crawl to get through. More people increased the chances of alerting the Death Eaters to their presence. If there were traps in the manor, and so on the reasonings went, until it was agreed only Malice and Draco would go. Plus, how many of them here wanted to run into and tangle with their own parents?

"All right..." said Daphne, "...please be careful."

They made preparations and in the middle of the night, there was a gathering at the foyer of the house. Malice wasn't entirely surprised to watch Daphne and Draco exchanging a passionate kiss. "You better come back," ordered Daphne, and the man smirked.

"I always do."

They cleared out of the Fidelius and apparated away. They were a good kilometer away from the old manor, and carefully began their journey to the edge of the wards. It didn't seem like there were any changes made to them. Not surprising, since once again, only those of the blood could change them. Breaking the wards was not impossible but honestly a waste of time and energy to do so. When Malice portkeyed here the first time, she'd dropped right in front of the Death Eater guard, who stared at her in surprise long enough to give the girl time to escape.

Daphne was not needed to break the anti-apparition wards since none could be set up within the existing wards of the manor. What Malice was confused about was how that one guard managed to remain in place when her home wards were meant to protect the residents and repel people with harmful intent.

"Okay, I've turned off any alerts that would usually announce when people are entering," said Malice, "not that the guard would ever detect it, but just in case..."

Draco nodded and they began to walk at a casual pace now, until they reached the walls where the fence was. Malice called one of the house elves to get them into the playhouse quietly. The reason why they didn't just do that right from the start was to ensure no surprises awaited them before entering. Now that they were certain, they ventured in.

The playhouse was charmed to be lit from the inside, but the lights never showed outside, and so Malice peeked through one of the windows, and saw a Death Eater guard zooming by on his broom. He seemed to follow a steady circuit, and Malice thought that very odd. Had he been flying all this time?

"C'mon, Mal," called Draco quietly.

Nodding, Malice opened the passage under the small bed and entered first. Because she was so small and slender, she was able to walk bent double. But Draco, significantly larger and broader, had to crawl on all fours as Malice estimated. It was a slow journey, but the tunnel had a permanent glow charm, so they could see their way easily enough, and it had a repelling charm so bugs and small critters did not inhabit the place. Except for visiting hamgons. Nothing could keep those cute pests out.

The exit was near the kitchens, and Malice gently pushed the silent door open a crack, so she could gaze inside. Seeing the corridor was dark and empty, she quickly cast, "Homonium Revelo."

The only life she detected was the wizard outside on his broom, still zooming around the house at a steady and mechanical pace. Like clockwork.

"Looks clear," said Malice and she came out, with Draco following, a look of relief on his face.

"I'm not scared of tight spaces, like Daph," said Draco, "but damn, that was not fun."

"Sorry, Drake," said Malice, "to be fair, it was made for a little child, and even I grew a little since the last time I had to use it. I used to be able to skip and jump through it."

"Maybe we can shrink ourselves next round," he muttered, "so, where to first?"

"My room, there's an undetectable cache of my treasures there. I'd put the Wish Crystal in it before I left for Fifth Year. Had a funny feeling..." Malice shook her head, "...after that, we should locate the vault in my parents bedroom, and lastly my father's personal vault in his Study. Don't look so alarmed, we have mokeskin pouches and bags with enlargement charms in them."

Draco looked relieved to hear that and nodded.

It was an uneventful trip to her bedroom, and Draco took a moment to look around while she retrieved her treasures behind the bedside drawer.

"Might as well pack some of your stuff while you're here," he suggested after she stood up, "No point leaving anything behind."

"Yeah, I suppose." With a quick cast, Malice almost packed her entire room into a trunk, and then shrank it and put it in the green velvet pouch.

They took a while to guess what was the verbal password to unlock the vault in the parents' room, until Malice recalled her mother looking at a Muggle candy and grinning mischievously. "M&Ms"

The vault unlocked with a soft click and Draco looked at Malice questioningly. "Heh, mother loved alliteration, and she knew father loved these muggle candies called M&Ms"

There were some valuable items, money and magical artifacts, all which Malice grabbed and put in a blue velvet pouch. In the Study, Malice had to use her magic and also press her palm against what looked like a Muggle scanner and she recited, "Matchstick is ablaze."

The vault door to the miniature safe opened and she recovered everything into a plain looking leather pouch. Stuffing three pouches into her blouse, she was about to leave, when Draco asked for a minute and he took a larger sack with the enlargement charm on it and began to empty the house from top to bottom. While he did that, Malice began to observe the Death Eater flying around on the broom.

Pansy had similarly noted the mechanical nature of his circuit around the house. He'd kept it up from the time she and Blaise had arrived, and when they left, he hadn't stopped or changed pace even for a moment.

When Draco arrived, proudly showing the sack to her, Malice glanced at him, then back at the guard. "Something's wrong with him." she said.

"Who cares? They're here to catch you, Mal. Let's go."

But Malice couldn't leave it alone. "Drake, I think he's under a curse, but it's not from the home defenses."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Malice gave him a look that answered his question.

"Dammit, girl."

The matter was taken out of their hands, as the rider suddenly froze, and descended a second later. The front door blew open, where Draco had been standing and he was knocked off his feet.

Malice fell simply from the shock of the explosion and she quickly looked over at Draco to ensure he wasn't too badly hurt. He didn't seem to be, and there stood a trembling Death Eater, wand pointed forward.

"M-Malice?" came a raspy voice, "Where are you...?"

"Here!" said Malice, pointing her wand at the man.

He slowly turned and with a shaky hand, removed his mask, and the girl gaped.

"Marcus? Marcus Flint?"

"L-little Mal...y-you haven't chan-changed..." said Marcus with a small smile.

His head twitched and he groaned loudly, struggling to stay upright, "Y-you were...nice to everyone...c-c-compassion...strength...and weakness."

Malice's eyes widened. "They cursed you to detect compassion?!"

He nodded jerkily, "Knew, you'd...get worried. Cursed me, when I failed t-to catch that first time..."

"Merlin..." muttered Draco as he got back up, "...you've been circling the house for over a month and a half?"

"That how long it's been?" asked Marcus, "Bloody hell, th-there goes my career."

He cried out, seemingly in pain, and he looked at her, "Getting harder to stop saying it...go, M-Mal...Draco...now! I'm going t-to...c-c-c-all the dark lord...I'm s-sorry...please...go!"

"C'mon Mal! You know what happens if he says the name." urged Draco and he ran towards the kitchen.

Malice, took Marcus' hand, and held it, "I...forgive you. Fight it."

He grimaced and nodded, then shouted, "GO! H-HE'LL TAKE OVER MY MIND! V-V-V...VOLDEMORT!"

There were distinct cracks of apparition and Malice could waste no more time. She ran into kitchen and entered the door that led to the tunnel, Draco stood waiting frantically, and urged the girl inside then he glanced at a now red-eyed Marcus Flint, who stood straighter and with a distinct sneer on his face, "Young Malfoy," came a sibilant voice that was not Marcus' own, "so you have lived all this time."

"I have a feeling Marcus is already dead, but sorry anyway, AVADA KEDAVRA!" Draco fired the Killing Curse at his former Quidditch Captain and the man went down in a heap.

"Ooo, was that little Drakey I heard? Casting killing curses are we?" came a voice nobody wanted to hear.

"Move Malice, move!" cried Draco as he closed the door behind him and cast every spell he knew to secure it and then began to perform the world's fastest crawl.

Running as fast as she could in the cramped space, Malice turned as she reached the path to climb back out. She waited for Draco to reach though, then she popped open the hatch, and urged him on.

Draco suddenly screamed in pain and collapsed. Malice immediately ran back into the tunnel and saw most of his right leg was mangled by an unknown curse. It was eating him up bit by bit, and he was definitely going to die. "Damn!" he managed to bite out.

"DRACO!" cried Malice, and she started running back to him.

He smiled at her as a thin rivulet of blood trailed out the side of his mouth, "Mal...sorry...tell Daph, I'm sorry. Name a kid after me, will ya?"

He threw the sack at Malice just as she was reaching him, and he cried out for her house elf, who appeared, and before she could say anything, he ordered, "Get Malice to safety...go, now!"

"DRACO NO!" Malice shrieked as she fought against her House Elf.

"WHICH ONE OF YOU KILLED MY PARENTS!" Demanded Draco of the figures crawling towards him, "WELL, YOU'RE GONNA MEET THEM SOON! FIENDFYRE!"

The elf finally won and popped them away just as Malice saw the cursed flames emerging.

A sobbing Malice reappeared in her new house, and she collapsed to the floor, crying for yet another lost friend.

~ O ~

"Malice? Malice, wake up." said Fred, shaking the tiny witch awake.

It had been a few months since Draco's death, and everyone had returned to Hogwarts, now under the regime of Snape and the Carrows. Malice slowly sat up from the mat she'd been using in the Room of Requirement. She still had no idea how she knew which of the twins was which, but she knew it was Fred, and looked at him expectantly.

"We've got another one today. It's Creevey's younger brother," said Fred.

"Oh," said Malice as she stood up, "good, Colin's been worrying about him. Why on Earth didn't he come along right from the start though..."

Fred shrugged helplessly, "He wanted to make sure Natalie McDonald was all right. I think they fancy each other."

Malice sighed, "I guess I can understand that. Did you manage to find Natalie then?"

"I did," piped up George from the other side. Following him was a petite fourth year girl who was still much taller than Malice herself, who had to stand on a high pedestal if she wanted everyone to see her.

"Hey Natalie," said Malice, "so, usual question: Do you want to remain here, or would you prefer to follow Colin and Dennis to Haven?"

"I'll...I'll go with Haven."

"Probably for the best," replied Malice and nodded at the Twins.

"We'll pop by next week, but call us if you need anything anytime, eh?" said George before he left.

"Thanks," said Malice and she glanced over at the people who were running the rescue operations from within Hogwarts with her.

Daphne had been quite hostile with Malice for some months, blaming her for Draco's death, but they made amends when Astoria had fled, seemingly snapping out of her catatonia just as Daphne slapped Malice in a fit of rage. Seeing Daphne's crazed look startled Astoria so badly she managed to do an involuntary apparition somehow, and the two had set aside all enmity to track Astoria down, which led them incidentally to Greengrass Manor, where they were able to rescue Tracey, who'd been trapped in some kind of time anomaly that froze time where she was, saving her from the cursed flames.

Malice took a curse to the back that nearly killed her and had her bedridden for most of a month, during which time Daphne finally forgave Malice, then had the harder task of convincing Malice to forgive herself.

They then began to return to Hogwarts, but in secret, to see how bad things were in there, and if any Muggleborns and Half-Bloods and even Purebloods that needed rescuing.

Most were brought to Haven, where some professors from other places or schools had been brought in to help teach students and keep them occupied. A few stayed on, hidden in the Room of Requirement where the Defiant - which was what the Seventh Year Slytherins had taken to calling themselves - operated. They would send the refugees through a portrait that connected to the Hog's Head Inn, where Aberforth Dumbledore allowed students to use an unmonitored Floo in the basement to emerge in the safety of Haven.

"The Carrows are out for your blood," said Neville.

Malice smiled tiredly, "Good. They still think I'm the only one behind the string of disappearances?"

Neville affirmed this with a nod. He and most of the other students had begun to warm up to Malice once again, after the initial surprise of finding her and the other Slytherins occupying and using the Room of Requirement to funnel out students who were being tormented by the Carrows, her explanation of being imperiused and obliviated multiple times by Snape and Dumbledore over the years actually convinced them since it accounted for her oddities that people certainly noticed as being uncharacteristic of her.

Supplying her family artifacts to sabotage Snape and the Carrows or help the Defiant sneak around the school undetected was quite the boon to their endeavours. Hogwarts however, was at its saddest state in the longest time, with a declining number of students. There had been many debates, some almost heated, as to whether they should not just outright take out the Carrows and Snape, it certainly wasn't like much of the student body were fans of these "Professors".

Malice was firmly against the idea, of course. There were far too many risks in attacking them and taking them out. For one, based on the memories she'd recovered, Snape was really aiding the Light, but he was literally between a rock and a hard place. Secondly, the Carrows were no slouches, and on the slim possibility they caught the siblings unawares, Malice was afraid of losing anyone. And Theodore was out there. He was hailed as a hero by the Death Eaters, but he had no illusions. They kept him right where they could see him.

His family were dead or good as. But he would be completely useless if he tried to go in a blaze of glory, so he did his best to supply information to the Defiants when he could. Or render aid to tormented students, sometimes taking their place in an act of penance.

She didn't really know when she'd become the leader of the Defiant or why Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs now deferred to her and her decisions were final.

But she knew she was afraid of costing more lives, and though Daphne had forgiven her and even tried to convince Malice to stop blaming herself, she just couldn't bring herself to take a more aggressive course. She understood now why Dumbledore wanted to separate her from Harry, Ron and Hermione. She likely would have led them down a more passive path that would see them hunted and eventually exterminated. No matter how good she was at staying undetected, eventually, luck would run out.

"Anyway, I best get back out there," said Neville, "Ginny's losing patience, and it won't be long before she's hiding out here permanently."

"Tell her to be careful," advised Malice unnecessarily.

Ginny was a surprising friend. It seemed that she and Harry had broken up. The reason being twofold. He didn't want to risk Ginny's life by being known to be in a relationship with her, and for another, it seemed he was still conflicted about his relationship with Malice.

"Heh, she usually says you're careful enough for the both of you." Neville left that parting remark as he used one of the portrait accesses to another part of the school.

With a sigh, Malice went over to turn on the Wireless, hoping to hear news of Harry.

~ O ~

On the bright side, Malice was happy to note that neither she nor Harry ended up in the Hospital Wing now that the end of term was near. On the down side, Harry was back in Hogwarts.

Most of Gryffindor had joined the Defiants as long term residents in the Room of Requirement, though thanks to the magic of the room, they weren't suffering or in cramped conditions. The room adjusted to accommodate everyone within so it almost looked like it's own separate tower now, with facilities, study rooms, libraries and ready rooms for meetings and plannings. Haven had expanded into a full-fledged town, and there were talks already that the residents intended to build their lives there, rather than return if the war ended.

Malice had used the wish, she wanted to know how to end Voldemort once and for all. The prophecy had been revealed to her, and Voldemort's horcruxes, and a deadly ritual that would end the user's life, but also guarantee success.

She knew that Harry was coming back soon, the gift of the crystal was some measure of foreknowledge.

So a few months ago, she'd cried and cried and wept, for a life she would never live.

Her friends tried to comfort her, not understanding what made her so upset, and she did not give her explanations, again, understanding Dumbledore's plight and situation. She had silently apologized for all the anger she held against him, and liked to think he just gave her a signature twinkling of the eyes.

The horcrux was easy enough to locate, so when Harry started explaining the horcrux without using the word for it, Malice piped up, "You mean something like this?"

She stepped through the parting crowd, and smiled up at Harry. He was so rugged and handsome, and taller...again. The tiara was hanging off her left index finger as she sauntered up the rest of the way, and Harry's smile at seeing her made her day.

"Malice..." he said, pouring a mixture of emotions into her name.

"Hey handsome," she replied and hugged him.

After that, she surprised Ron and Hermione with a hug too.

"Not that you'd need it, but the Twins have my memory vials that Dumbledore gave me," she told them, "If you ever get the time, give it a look."

She handed over the tiara, which Ron asked simply, "H-how?"

"Draco's family gave me an incredible gift for my eleventh birthday...let's just say it worked wonders for me."

That was when Voldemort made his presence known.

~ O ~

It was time.

Malice went to the hidden chamber in the Room that had been made only for her. It was almost as if the school was helping her along in this last desperate task.

She knew that Harry would not risk the lives of the people gathered at the school, no matter how ready they were to fight on his behalf. It was something she would have balked at herself. So she was not surprised when Harry slipped away after Voldemort made his ultimatum. McGonagall was inclined to prepare the school's defenses. With only students from Fourth to Seventh Year present, all the younger students had already been carted to safety for the last few months.

It was all for naught, she knew, since Harry was out there giving himself up. He was the last Horcrux.

Drawing out a knife, Malice pierced her palm and squeezed the blood out onto the dais she had been preparing for the last few months. When the crystal had manifested a woman all those months ago, asking her if she was prepared to pay the ultimate price in order to achieve victory, Malice had said, "As long as it costs only my life, and no one else...yes."

The ethereal woman smiled, and said, "You have chosen well."

After she vanished, Malice was suddenly filled with an awareness of the ritual...one that had only ever been cast once a long time ago.

She began to speak the incantations and felt magic flowing from the school, from the very earth itself, into her.

"Thank you mother, father...Draco," uttered Malice weakly as she struggled to her feet.

She only had a short time left to her, the amount of magic filling her body was far too great for any body to sustain, even a revenant like Voldemort would be eviscerated by something of this magnitude. She was quietly incanting in Latin as she exited the Room of Requirement, slipping into the flow of the crowd that was rushing down to the Entrance.

Voldemort had called them to witness something important, and promised no harm.

None were willing to open the doors however, and parted before the girl, seemingly sensing the sheer power coming from her. Her body was shining with multiple hues of light, prompting gasps and whispers from the crowd. Even McGonagall gaped but made no move to stop the girl from throwing the doors open, using wandless magic.

The light surrounding her caught the attention of the gathered Death Eaters and their dark followers. She took note of where they were and smiled to herself. When she'd hugged Harry, she'd pricked him lightly with a small blade. She'd added his blood into the ritual. This was all for him, after all. He was still the one in prophecy and the only one who could defeat Voldemort. She was just guaranteeing his victory.

She also was repeating Lily's act seventeen years ago, by sacrificing herself for Harry. But it will be the last one in the war against Voldemort.

Hagrid was standing there in chains, weeping over Harry's still form, but Malice knew better. Voldemort just thought the killing curse had an explosive effect, but it was his own Horcrux being destroyed. "You have killed him?"

She asked loudly.

"Why don't you take a closer look and see for yourself?" invited Voldemort with a gesture.

Nodding, Malice crosse the steps, at her conversation, some of the Professors stood at the doorway that Malice had just vacated. She heard McGonagall's scream, but she tuned them all out. If any tried to rush past the steps, they would find that Malice's barrier prevented them. It was all on her and Harry now.

She placed a hand on Hagrid's arm, and said softly, "It's going to be all right, Hagrid, but be ready to act when I tell you, and do exactly as I say, understand?"

He blinked and looked at Malice, confused but he nodded, "But 'arry...he's…"

"It's okay," said Malice, "trust me."

She ran her hand through Harry's hair, and smiled, placing two fingers against his neck, she could feel a pulse. She leaned in close and whispered, "I know you're alive. It's okay, don't speak, just listen."

She took a breath, and laid it all out, "I love you. Always have, always will. I know you don't feel the same, but that's okay too. I just want one thing from you, and then I can do what I need to do to help end this war."

Thanks to Hagrid's massive form, he hid from sight just what Malice was doing or saying.

Harry barely mouthed the word, "What?"

"Let me kiss you. Just one kiss. For me."

When he didn't say anything, she took that as a sign for his approval, and she leaned in, pressing her lips to his, and poured all of her feelings, her love and desire into that one act. She wanted him to feel everything she harbored for him, unhindered by memory losses and imperius curses. The very depth of her soul, that was giving everything to him.

She drew back and locked eyes with Voldemort, who, in that instant, saw his mortality reflected back at him, and she cried out, "FOR HOGWARTS! AND FOR HARRY!"

She cast a powerful cutting jinx at the chains binding Hagrid, and shouted at him "RUN!"

The giant didn't hesitate, breaking into a mad run for the castle, while Malice, everything in place, and seeing Nagini near Voldemort, broke into a charge for them.

"KILL HER!" cried Voldemort, aiming his wand at her.

The light surrounding her body grew brighter, more intense, and there was a piercing whine emanating from her as she paid no heed to the killing curses and cruciatus curses that struck her body to no effect, causing many to widen their eyes, and stayed their end, to their demise.

Voldemort, the Inner Circle and virtually most of his followers disappeared behind a blinding array of colours and light, as Malice exploded, her body no longer able to contain all the magic, but even as she died, her spirit redirected that magical explosion and turned it inward.

A massive maelstrom of energy began to pull in everything within a few hundred meters of where Malice died, and because all of his followers had been so tightly clustered together, that was the majority of the army.

A few managed to escape the magical black hole that was pulling in and crushing into atoms all of the Death Eaters. Voldemort was using every magical trick he knew to keep himself anchored even as Nagini was beheaded and then crushed by the maelstrom, along with most of the acromantulas, giants, werewolves and vampires. The Death Eaters themselves were the very first to perish, lost to sight and memory with no chance of escape.

Malice had wanted Harry to live and be happy, free of prophecy, free of everything.

She was able to grant him only two of those things.

She cried out as her body, spirit and magic retained that last bit of terror in death, but now she was free. She felt herself rising, higher, and faster, away from this world, away from pain, sorrow and fear. Away from everything bad, she soared past the cosmos, and onwards, until she saw the light of eternity ahead, and raced joyfully towards it. Oddly, a part of her still remained on Earth, but for now, she didn't worry about that.

Her parents, and all her friends who went before her were waiting in paradise for her arrival, and she fell into their embrace, tears of joy pouring freely. It was over for her. She had lived her life to the fullest, no matter how short it had been, and it was worth it.

~ O ~

Harry Potter

The moment her lips had pressed against him, it all came flooding back like a torrent, and Harry nearly gave himself away by crying out. He felt Hagrid gasp in surprise, whether it was because he thought Malice was kissing a corpse or because he realized Harry really was alive, he wasn't sure, but he was dealing with his own shock as he felt all the feelings come into clarity for him, something he'd been missing for years.

He loved Malice Match. They were going to be together, exploring a wonderful relationship that had been building since their first year, but stolen from them both by memory charms and curses. It all fell away like webs that had been hiding his memories. He tried his best to return everything he felt for her in that kiss, just as he realized she was kissing him like she never ever would again.

Because she in fact, never would see him again.

She screamed out a battle cry, cut Hagrid free and the giant was lumbering towards the Entrance hall with all the considerable speed available to him, even as Harry struggled to break free of Hagrid's hold, "Hagrid! Wait!"

"Can't 'arry!" said the large man, "I don' think it's a good idea fer us t' be near what the li'l miss is doin'!"

"Hagrid she's going to...!"

BOOM!

"EVERYONE FALL BACK!" cried McGonagall as Hagrid and Harry quickly retreated further inside and the maelstrom built up, pulling the Entrance doors shut.

"Hagrid, LET GO!" screamed Harry, shocking everyone.

They'd only really noticed now that Harry was indeed still alive. "Harry! How...!" cried Hermione, but he shook his head and when the doors stopped shaking he pulled it open to examine the destruction.

Voldemort was kneeling, panting hard from the exertion of staying away from the magical black hole that had crushed almost his entire army to nothing. There were scant handfuls of survivors, who were the furthest from the event, but they were too badly weakened or wounded to be a real threat, the one or two that managed to get up, only tried to run away rather than press an attack.

Everyone could see the dark lord was bleeding, wounded, and weak.

"Harry," said Theodore, and he pressed his own wand back into Harry's hand. At Christmas, Theodore had all but begged Harry to disarm him, acting on Dumbledore's final instructions, and Harry had obliged him. Unknowingly becoming the owner of the Elder Wand, the last of the Hallows.

There was a singular cry of fury from the Hogwarts folk, but all were silenced at Harry's cry, "HE'S MINE!"

Tears fell down in thin rivulets as Harry wept for what he'd lost, understanding what Malice had just done for him, for everyone. A deed of purest love. Activating a similar spell like his mother, Malice created a barrier capable of withstanding or even deflecting a killing curse. A spell borne out of desperate, intense and overwhelming love. An unconditional love that was capable of sacrifice without hesitation.

"I...I am still strong enough to destroy you alone, Harry Potter!" declared Voldemort, "You are a fool not to let your friends help you."

"No, Tom," said Harry evenly, raising his wand and pointing it at him, "you were never strong. Just foolish."

With a snarl, Voldemort threw a killing curse, which Harry deflected by raising a stone barrier. It shattered, and when he saw another curse coming, he summoned a loose hunk of rock, which again took the killing curse, while he drew nearer and nearer to the ever-weakening dark lord.

On and on, Voldemort's spells became more frantic and wild, but Harry stayed cool and calm, just summoning or raising barriers to block the spells. Until he was only ten feet from the man.

Harry spread his arms wide, "Go ahead Tom," he said, as he felt the familiar sensation that he'd taken for granted until his Fourth Year. Malice's blood protection was in full effect against Voldemort. "But understand, if you do so, you will die for good this time. You have no more Horcruxes to anchor you here."

"YOU LIE!" screamed the man and he levelled the Elder Wand at Harry's chest, "AVADA KADAVRA!"

The green light struck Harry and rebounded immediately to Voldemort, who fell back in a heap, his eyes wide open in disbelief and shock.

Voldemort was no more.

~ O ~

Word began to get out about Voldemort's demise, most if not all the surviving members of his army had been apprehended and dealt with accordingly. Harry and the others soon discovered the site of Malice's death had become a fifty foot radius non-magical zone where magic just couldn't work at all.

Those who knew her well, wept for her passing. History would write about this war, and report the casualty in the final battle for the defenders to have been literally just one life lost.

"I want to build a statue of her here," said Harry a few days later, standing in the center of the "dead zone", "I'll have to use my bare hands."

The endeavour took some time, but it also involved far more people than Harry preferred, but Ron, and many others, had become fond of the girl, and wanted to remember her or do something in memory of her themselves. She had single-handedly handed the war into Harry's hands.

Harry watched the statue reach its completion, and he watched all the people who found comfort in one another's arms.

Ron and Hermione, Neville and Hannah, Vincent Crabbe and Luna, Tracey and Blaise, and on and on it went. He almost laughed at the thought. He was certain there were going to be quite a few new babies in the coming years.

He'd repaired his original wand, and placed the Elder Wand back in Dumbledore's tomb.

He puzzled over the Headmaster's remark about his willing sacrifice borne out of love for his friends and the fact it anchored his soul among the living. But he was free of prophecy now, and he lived on. But that was all. He lived.

The celebrations in the school continued unabated. When this happened the last time, the parties lasted over a week, and kept the obliviators very busy. He'd received the memory vials from the twins and had viewed them, but most of them were nothing new now, thanks to Malice already restoring most of his memories. It was an eye opener for Ron and Hermione though, who felt even worse after seeing it.

But Malice had a few new vials of her own, that helped put more things into perspective for him.

It also made him ache more for her loss. Seeing her, even just a memory of her, was too much. He nearly wanted to go back into the Forbidden Forest to hunt for the Resurrection Stone, but only the memory of her smiling face and her asking him if he really disregarded her actions for him that much.

With a sigh, he stepped out of Hogwarts and started walking, never looking back.

~ O ~

50 Years Later...

"None of us ever saw Harry Potter again in person that day," said Hermione, her tone wistful and sad, "though we heard tales of a dark haired and green eyed wizard showing up throughout the world, facing the greatest challenges and perils with reckless abandon...I believe...I believe he desperately sought death...perhaps, I should say, seeks it, for as far as I know, he still lives today."

Somber was the mood in the annual Remembrance Day of the defeat of Voldemort, and as many of the survivors of the war were still present, most at one year or another had given a speech. Hermione herself had given a handful over the last five decades.

Many diligently attended the event if only to catch up with old friends, or to see who among them had seen or heard from Harry.

The man had reportedly grown in power and abilities that surpassed even the late Albus Dumbledore, having travelled the globe and possibly learned things even Hermione never knew about. But he never ever showed his face to anyone in England ever since 1998. If he did, he'd sworn them to secrecy about it. But as far as she knew, nobody had had any communications or interaction with the man, for all their attempts.

Haven had only recently been rediscovered, and it was a thriving city of wizards. An actual city!

But the secret of its location remained intact, and it was only spoken of and its location given by word of mouth. They were adamant to maintain their security, ever vigilant. Mad-Eye Moody would have been proud.

"Remember everything Malice Match and Harry Potter did on this day, fifty years ago, for we never want to allow another Tom Riddle to happen. To quote an old friend: Constant Vigilance!"

There was a smattering of applause, and when it died down, a hand shot up, and Hermione nodded at the reporter, who stood up, "Melissa Skeeter, Quibbler; Headmistress Nott, Did you finish your work on the Magical Theories of Life Magic?"

"Oh," Hermione smiled, and looked over at her husband, Theodore, who smiled and nodded at her. Though she and Ron remained close, they drifted apart as lovers, and eventually found themselves in the arms of other people, "Yes, I have actually."

"Would you be willing to give a brief explanation of your latest work?"

"I suppose there's no harm in that," and she heard a few chuckles among her peers, "but I must credit the late Malice Match for a great deal of my findings. It seemed she had kept extensive notes into the theory of immortality, something Tom Riddle had been desperately seeking to achieve."

This made a fair few people sit up straighter and listen more closely, to the latest Headmistress' delight.

"Unlike Mr. Riddle, however, Malice immersed herself fully into subjects pertaining to Light magic, and found that immortality came in many forms. The most common form of carrying on a surviving legacy is seen before you, in the last two generations. I've seen many Weasleys, Longbottoms, Davises and Greengrasses, and yes, Notts."

She smiled proudly at her children, and their own children in the throng.

"Then there are of course more magical ways of securing one's self, though I am not certain this was knowingly or even intentionally done, so what I have are only theories."

At their keen gazes, Hermione decided to continue, "I believe, fifty years ago, both Malice and Harry had unknowingly secured their own soul anchors to this world, but born out of willing sacrifice and love. It is quite well known that Harry and Malice were deeply in love with one another, but circumstances prevented them from being together, and Malice's demise ended any chances for Harry."

She examined the crowd for a moment, then said, "I believe that this is a basis for reincarnation."

There were some murmurings and even a gasp or two, and a young man raised his hand, "Humphrey Lovegood, Headmistress. Are you saying that Harry Potter and Malice Match are likely to be reborn among us?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, but please, don't take that to mean they're going to look the same or even have the same name. It could very well be one of you, after all. There are many Harrys and Malices around these days."

There was a small chuckle at that, and Hermione looked at Melissa Skeeter, "Even you, Miss Skeeter. After all, isn't your name a slight modification of Malice?"

"It is. Yes."

"Anyway, keep in mind that for now, this is all theories. I still have some research to finalize before I publish my works. Thank you all for coming today, and I bid you good health."

~ O ~

43 Years Later...

She was a dark haired girl with curious dark eyes that had light blue rings around them. Many agreed that she was going to be a real beauty one day when she grew up. She was quite small sized though, and there were jokes among her peers that she was unlikely to be regarded as a tall person.

Her parents always told her to disregard such concerns. If a man would love her, he'd love her as she was, height and all.

And she was honestly too young to be worrying about such things.

For her class assignment today, she was working on a project about Magical Theories by one Hermione Granger-Nott, and she needed to get some of the books the woman had written.

"Let's see," she said to herself, "Magical Me, no, wow, how is that clown's book still here? Uhm...the History of the Chudley Cannons by Ronald Weasley...hey, someone misplaced this! Oh, Magical Theories of Life Magic!"

She grasped the book and tugged, but it didn't budge. Blinking, she tugged again, but once more, it did not budge. "What the," she said just as someone else said the same thing, and she tugged once more. Again, nothing.

"Uhm, excuse me," said a voice, and Malice looked through the gaps of books to see a pair of green eyes staring at her, "were you pulling this book at the same time?"

Her hand still on the book, she nodded, "Yes, I think so,"

She let go of the book and stepped away from the shelf. The boy did so at the same time and she was face-to-face with a bespectacled boy with messy raven hair and the brightest emerald eyes she had ever seen.

"Hi, you're in Slytherin, right?" he said.

Because it was the weekend, neither of them were wearing their uniforms, so she nodded, "Yes, and hi."

She thought he looked very handsome, and she vaguely remembered seeing him at the Sorting.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter." he introduced himself.

Smiling, the girl brushed her hair back and replied, "I'm Malice, Malice Match."

THE END

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Additional A/N:

This fic got way longer than expected. I originally estimated it would reach 21,000 words or so. Instead, you all get over 44,733 words of story content.

So if you like that, well, you're welcome. If you don't, well, I'm sorry, but thank you for sticking through until the end?

I had written the summary for this story back in August 2020, and I had been urged by my friend and longsuffering beta, Nauze, to write the story out. So you can say, thanks to him, this finally happened, though it took me about a year plus to get off my butt and make it happen.

I personally believe it's not my greatest work, and I probably could have made the story a bit better with more elaboration and better writing, but I'm overdue for posting this story to begin with, and I'm honestly so done with it. So all I can say is I hope you enjoyed my labour of love. Thank you for sticking with me for this crazy adventure, and I hope I'll see you around sometime. Take care and God bless.