Chapter 6: Potion's Master

September 11th


Elara groaned, rubbing her eyes as the pages of the book she was staring at blurred. The lines were bleeding into one another and she could no longer focus. They had been at it for hours, looking through book after book, page after page, trying to figure out how they could get into the room of requirement. They now knew it was on the seventh floor, after Draco remembered vaguely witnessing a random door appearing there last year when he was on the Inquisitorial Squad, spying for Umbridge. They still weren't any closer to knowing how to get into it, which was becoming more and more frustrating.

Draco was quickly losing his patience, which also meant his temper was volatile and he was on his way to an explosion very soon. She wondered when he had become so much like their father. Lucius always jumped straight to impatience and aggravation when he was feeling the slightest bit inconvenienced, often jumping down the throat of whatever poor soul happened to be present. Unless it was her, of course. Or their Mother. He cared enough for them to not get violent or outraged toward them, or even in their presence in most cases. She suppressed a small laugh to herself, thinking about the amount of times Draco and Lucius butt heads when Draco was much younger. "Defiant little shit" Lucius would always grumble, running his hand over his face in attempts to keep calm. Her father was terrifying in the best of circumstances, if his mood was dark. But he did love them. He did try to be a decent father. Yeah, decent enough to get locked in Azkaban… She thought, and then quickly shook her head, trying to banish the image.

She knew what everyone said about him, about them all. She wasn't thick. She may have been shielded from the outside press for a long time, but she knew they all hated them. Knew her father had been very vocal about his stance. She wished he hadn't. She thought about the letter her mother sent, "You're father and I are proud…" Had they been in contact? Had Mother seen him? Could she see him? Would she want to see him?

She rubbed her temples. Not knowing was the worst part of this. She had no idea how her father was doing. Had not a clue if her Mother was alright, if she was being taken care of… If she was caring for herself. She wondered if the Death Eaters had moved their way into the Manor yet, and what that would mean for her Mother.

Draco snapped her out of her thoughts with an agitated sigh, roughly slamming closed another book and quickly opening the next. Elara tried to control his mood the best she could, touching his hand or face here and there, trying to keep him calm, but he began batting her away every time she made to touch him now. Her head was beginning to pound just behind her eyes. She could feel the anger rolling off of Draco.

"I can feel your blood boiling." She said, taking a deep breath. "Just let me calm you."

"No!" He said, smacking her hand away from him again. "I lose focus when I'm calm. I need to figure it out."

"Draco…" She sighed. "Please. You're giving me a headache."

"Then leave." He looked up to her, his eyes fierce. "I can't afford to relax right now. I need to know how to get into that damn room."

"I'm not going to leave you here to smash up the library again." She said, pursing her lips. "But what if we just go up to the seventh floor? Maybe if we change location, look around… Maybe we'll find it."

Draco looked up from the pages he was skimming for what felt like the hundredth time. "You want to go wander around the seventh floor in hopes that it just appears?"

She shrugged. "It can't hurt to try. We've been pouring over pages for days now and haven't figured anything more out. Perhaps if we view the area, we can make sense of it."

Draco chewed over her suggestion. They hadn't figured anything else out, he was sure it was on the seventh floor, but he was no closer to accessing it. A thought struck him, and he stood from his chair, closing his book and looking to Elara.

"No." He said. "No, I know where we need to go."

She arched an eyebrow and stood up. "Oh?"

"Follow me." He said. "We're going to go pay a visit to dear old Professor Snape."

Although Snape taught Defense classes now, his personal quarters remained in the Dungeons while he was still head of Slytherin house. Elara had of course, been present in his classes but he seemed to disregard her. He paid a close eye to Draco, making sure he paid attention and turned in his essays. But when it came to Elara, he paid her no mind, as if she weren't even there.

She found that odd.

Severus Snape had been a longtime confidant of their parents. He was present at nearly every Malfoy function and until very recently, he always seemed to at the very least, tolerate her. She was always silent around most of the older Malfoy connections, given everyone thought she was an incapacitated mute. But there had been several occasions where Snape had shared a word or two with her, admitting he knew her condition was false.

Although, now that she thought further into it, it would be safe to say that many of the "inner circle" knew their family was lying. She wondered if her father had paid them for their silence. Trust Lucius to throw money at a problem to make it go away.

Draco knocked on the heavy, wooden door three times. Elara shifted her weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling unnerved. "We're unannounced." She said. "He may not be here."

"He's here." Draco said, this time pounding on the door with more force. "He's always here."

Elara remained quiet as she heard a shuffle from beyond the door. Finally, it opened. Snape stood, clad in his normal black robes, looking rather put off.

"Yes?"

"I- we- need your help." Draco said, shoving past him and entering his quarters.

"Well please, Mister Malfoy, make yourself at home." Snape said sarcastically. He arched an eyebrow at Elara who stayed frozen in place. "Are you coming in?"

"He's rude." She said, nodding to her brother. "I'm not. I was waiting for an invitation."

Snape opened the door wider and swooped his hand into the room, motioning for her to go ahead of him. "You may enter."

She gave a curt nod and walked past him, looking around the room with interest. It was shabby, dated, but put together. The bookshelves that lined the walls sagged under the weight of the thick leather-bound volumes. There were rows and rows of vials on every shelf, several small boxes with labels written in other languages. There were a few smaller cauldrons on the mantle, bubbling away. There was a small sofa, probably older than Snape was, and an armchair that didn't look particularly comfortable.

She looked down at the end table and saw a copy of The Daily Prophet, her parents' picture on the front, their eyes looking bored and unimpressed. The image swiftly changed to an image of Draco and herself leaving Ollivander's, arm in arm.

"Malfoy Daughter Spotted:
After several years of absence from the public eye, sources have confirmed the elusive Malfoy twin will be joining her brother at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the term beginning this September. Images snapped while the teen siblings walked through Diagon Alley in mid-August show the pair of siblings, son and daughter to known blood-purists and Death Eater Lucius (Narcissa) Malfoy, leaving Ollivander's Wands, which brings speculation to whether the twin sister has a wand of her own or if this is the first wand she had received. Not long after leaving the renowned wand shop, did the maker of fine wands vanish, leaving the long time owned shop without a trace. Sources say there could be a connection between the-"

"It's illiterate garbage." Snape said, picking up the paper and throwing it into the fire that was now roaring in the fireplace.

Elara looked up at him, her eyes dark with rage. "He's missing?"

"Yes." Snape replied.

"And they think it's our fault somehow?"

He pursed his lips and sat in the uncomfortable looking armchair. "The public is looking for answers in any dark alley they can find."

She stood in place, staring into the fire, watching as her father's image burned. She felt her chest tighten up, a boiling in her pit that she was new to experiencing. This rage that contorted in her gut, the same rage she felt when Draco took the Dark Lord's brand to his arm. Her family had been ripped apart so often as of late, and it set her soul ablaze.

"Please, sit." Snape said, motioning to the spot on the sofa next to Draco.

Elara wondered if he could hear the thunder of her heartbeat in her throat through the thick silence in the room. She sat, jaw clenched and breathed through her nose.

"I assume you didn't come here to borrow my copy of The Daily Prophet?"

"No." Draco said. "As you said, it's illiterate garbage. I came to you, because you said you would help."

"You're accepting my help." It was not a question.

"This once." Draco said. "I need to know how to get into the room of requirement."

Snape snorted. "That room is a myth."

"It's not." Draco said. "And you know it isn't. I need to know how to gain entrance."

Snape eyed the pair with a completely blank expression. Elara closed her eyes, trying to pick up on anything. An emotion, an aura… Anything. The man was a closed book, guarding his thoughts and emotions so carefully they didn't even unconsciously seep from him as many others do. Finally, he shifted in his seat, crossing his legs over one another at the knee and pursed his lips.

"What you need is in the room of requirement?"

"Yes, obviously. I wouldn't be here if it weren't." Draco snapped, clearly aggravated.

"Sir," Elara started, side glancing her brother with an annoyed look. "I apologize for his… tone. But yes, we know we need to get into the room. We also know its entrance is on the seventh floor, we just don't know where. I've been reading every volume of the inner working of this castle I can find, and we have had no success."

"You apologize on his behalf too much." Snape said, jutting his chin toward Draco. Draco scowled.

Elara offered a bemused smirk. "Force of habit, I suppose."

"Yes well, now we've all had a laugh at my expense… We need to get into that bloody room." Draco exclaimed. "And we're just wasting our time here, apparently."

"No one knows where the entrance truly is, until you've visited the room." Snape said. "It may appear in a different place for me than it does for you. However, at the end of the corridor, there is a blank wall. You must walk past it three times, concentrating on what you need from the room and nothing more."

"That's it?" Elara asked. "We just walk past the wall three times?"

"That's it." Snape said. "I suggest you do this first, Draco. Establish what you need to find in the room."

Draco nodded. "I'll go up now." He made to get up, Elara following suit.

"Elara, if I could have a word?" Snape asked. "Draco can establish the room while we speak."

She looked at Draco nervously, who was already almost out of the door. She nodded. "Alright." She sat back down and waited for the heavy door to close as Draco left the study.

Snape stood, walking over to one of the shelves lined with vials and plucked a few small blue ones off their ledge. He handed them to her. "Your mother expressed concern at start of term that you may suffer from headaches due to your… abilities…"

Her eyes grew wide as she looked at the vials and back up at him. "You know?"

"I've always known." He said. "When your mother was pregnant with you, she experienced the same phenomena. Magic tends to run wild in pregnant women, but something so specific usually indicates the child will be born with a gift. Yours just happens to be more curse than gift sometimes, I'm afraid."

She nodded. "These will help?"

"They will. You should only need to take it when it becomes overwhelming though. I challenge you to work your mind as best you can, hone your abilities. Don't rely on shutting it out for ease of process."

"It hasn't been too overwhelming yet." She admitted. "I certainly thought it would be harder to control it. Sometimes I just feel things a little stronger, since there are so many people around all the time. But I haven't been completely knocked down by it yet, which I was expecting."

"Should you find your mind incapacitated, this will help. Tell Draco where you put them, in case you are unable to get them yourself." He suggested.

"Thank you." She said. "Sir? Can I ask you something?"

"If you must."

She hesitated, becoming extremely interested in the etching on the small corked bottles he had handed her. "Do you believe the Dark Lord is going to be successful?"

Snape remained quiet for a long moment. Elara contemplated repeating the question, wondering if she had maybe spoken too soft. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of contemplation, he answered her.

"I believe that there will be some successes perceived by him."

"Perception is tricky though, isn't it?" She said, looking up to meet his eyes. "What may be perceived as success to one can be a failure to another."

Snape gave a curt nod. "There are strategies we may use in order to ensure that success is perceived. Sometimes we must bend circumstances to our own will to make sure the intended need is met."

She chewed over his words for moment, staring deep into his black eyes. He was still so shielded, but his words were making his guard falter. He was being intentional. He was telling her what he felt, without saying it. Diplomatic and self-preserving. He was nervous, she could feel the irregularity of his heartbeat as he tried to repress his emotions. She leaned forward and tentatively outstretched her hand. When he didn't shrink away from her, she gently touched the top of his hands, which were folded over his knees. Elara closed her eyes for a moment and focused. She felt hatred, intense and raw, burning into her like a hot iron. She felt something beneath the fury though, something desperate. As she sifted through his mind, she saw the desperation came from love. A burning desire to prove himself worthy because he had failed so miserably in the past.

"I need to ask you one more question." She said. "And if you don't answer me now, that's okay."

He arched an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. She withdrew her hand and stood, adjusting her too big jumper and stuffing the small bottles into her bag. "Do my parents know that you're working against them? Against the Dark Lord?"

She saw a twitch on his face, a fleeting look of surprise quickly followed by stoic apathy. "Your parents know only what they need to know in order to keep you, your brother, and themselves alive."

She nodded. "For the record," She started as she walked toward the door, her hand lingering on the handle. "I think what you're doing is absolutely nutters."

A small, painful looking smirk crossed his lips.

"But," She sighed. "I'm thankful you are doing it."

She left the humble study and Snape sat, staring into the fire. He took a deep breath and stood, walking to his desk and opening the drawer that contained his stash of Fire Whiskey. He pulled out the bottle and a crystal tumbler and poured himself a glass and took it down swiftly. He poured another and took his seat in the uncomfortable, moth-bitten armchair. He had just surfaced memories and emotions that had been long suppressed. All at the hands of a sixteen-year-old girl. He shuddered to think of the possibilities her gifts may hold if she were to be captured by the wrong hands. If his mind, which he had prided himself on being nearly impenetrable had been so deeply probed without the girl even breaking a sweat… What else would she be capable of?

She said she was thankful. Thankful that he was a traitor? Thankful that he was helping them? Thankful for what? What exactly did she know? He finished the glass of amber liquid and contemplated exactly what his next move would need to be.


Harry sat in the grass, his back against a large, flat boulder. He had a book in his lap, but he hadn't stared at the pages as he flipped mindlessly through them. His eyes took to the sky, to the custom plum and gold Firebolt that zipped around the low hanging clouds, effortlessly. He had taken to watching this aerial dance several times this past week. While Hermione desperately tried to tutor Ron in his classes in the library, Harry had made up reasons to leave them; to explore his own avenues. Avenues that had consistently led him to this spot. He watched her almost nightly for the past six days, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of a conversation. See if he could look through the front she was putting up, pretending to be kind, apologizing for her shit stain of a brother constantly, acting as if she had no care in the world what anyone thought of her…

His gut told him there was something going on here, and he had to follow it. He needed to figure her out.

He noticed that she almost always came out to fly between supper and curfew, when most of the castle was beginning to turn in for the evening and start on their homework, she came out and flew. Sometimes Draco was with her, but the last three days she had been completely alone.

He finally pulled his eyes away, looking into his lap. He pulled the loose parchment out of the back of the book and pressed the tip of his wand to it.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good" He whispered.

He looked over the map, scanning it closely. He saw himself sitting on the grounds, he saw Elara's name moving about the pitch. He opened it further, looking at the dungeons or the great hall… He looked at the library, the hospital wing, the greenhouses… Draco's name was not on the map.

He sighed in frustration. "Mischief Managed." He said, turning his eyes back to the pitch. Harry had made the connection that when Elara was flying alone, Draco was nowhere to be found. The only question was, where could he possibly be?!

He looked around for a moment, realizing that he must have been staring at the map longer than he thought. Elara was no longer visible. She must have turned in for the night, he thought. He closed his book and stood, stretching out his stiff muscles.

"You've been watching me."

The voice startled him. He turned around and met a pair of inquisitive stormy eyes.

"I-er- I came out to study." He said, holding out his book.

"You happen to come out to study every night? The same time I come out to fly?" She said, raising her eyebrows and pursing her lips.

"You come out to fly the same time I come out to study." He pointed out.

She smirked. A look he had seen on her brother's face that would drive him crazy, but on her it seemed more… playful. She didn't have the same condescending look in her eyes that he usually saw accompanied by such a smirk.

"I'm always out here, in the air, by the time you come. You're certainly following me. Not the other way around."

He shrugged. "Coincidence."

She knitted her eyebrows together and chewed her bottom lip for a moment. "I don't fully believe in coincidence, Potter."

"Good." He said. "Neither do I."

He turned and made to walk toward the castle. She caught up, her steps matching his. "We could walk together, you know. It's late and Dumbledore has said the grounds aren't safe."

"You want to walk together?" He asked, confused. "I'm sure you're safe. Your kind are the ones we aren't safe from."

"My kind." She repeated. She bit her lip again and nodded her head. "Okay, well if you discover what my kind is, let me know. I'd like to know what you think I'm safe from."

"Death eaters." He replied, stopping to stare at her. "Obviously."

"I'm not a Death Eater." She said. "I'm no safer from their grasps than you are."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure."

Elara found herself annoyed. It had been a long time since she had been truly irritated by someone other than her brother. Harry Potter was arrogant and certainly a bit of a know it all. She bit back the urge to hex him with a jelly legs jinx. "Don't make the mistake of believing you know everything about a person you've only just met. The only thing you know of me is my name."

"Sometimes a name is enough."

"So, there's nothing more to Harry Potter the-boy-who-lived?" She said, doubtfully. She folded her arms over her chest. "I should just believe everything I've ever read in the Prophet about you and that's it? Take it at face value and trust there's nothing more to you?"

"The Prophet is a joke." He said, looking flustered.

"Precisely. And I assume everything you know of me, came from that rubbish. So, again, I'd like to know what you think you know about me or my kind?"

"I know your father is a Death Eater who's rotting in Azkaban for his crimes. I know your aunt is fucking lunatic who-

"Don't." Elara said, watching him light up with the win of a fight. "Don't use that language with me. It's vulgar and serves no purpose in this conversation."

"Are you scolding me for my language?" He asked, amused.

"I don't like foul language." She said. "There's better words you could choose to use. My aunt is a lunatic though, you may continue."

He tilted his head, puffing in defeat and staring at her completely befuddled. "What?" He said, after several moments.

"My father is a Death Eater who is serving a life sentence in Azkaban, and my aunt is a Psychopath. Two very public points you decided to bring up, neither of which have anything to do with me. As I said, you know my name, that does not mean you know who I am." With that, Elara turned on her heel and walked away from him, toward the castle, a smirk carved into her face.

Narcissa Malfoy training 101: Never leave the room defeated. If slandered, find a way to gracefully save yourself without inflicting anymore damage and exit the scenario. Her brother had been wrong. He may have more experience in practice with being a Malfoy, but she had spent the last six years being groomed by their mother to be the most graceful pureblood wife anyone could ever ask for. And coming from a family of wealth, sometimes that meant you were going to be slandered.

Harry stood in place as Elara turned her back, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder and walked toward the castle. He was flabbergasted. Never had he been shut down so quickly, so effortlessly by someone. She didn't get violent. She wasn't rude. She simply stated facts and left him to his own thoughts, which were nothing more than "What the fuck just happened?".


Elara huffed in frustration, looking over into her brother's cauldron. "How are you getting that consistency?!" She asked, in a furious whisper.

"You're adding your Valerian too early." He stated, his voice bored.

"I'm adding them exactly four minutes after I add the lavender pods!"

"You need to wait longer."

"But the book says-

"I know what the book says." Draco turned to her. "But you need to wait longer."

She looked around the potion's classroom, eyeing the other students. All of them looked just as flustered as she felt. All except Potter, who was humming a tune to himself and slowly dropping in the flobberworm mucous to his cauldron.

She knew she was not as skilled at potions as Draco was. It had always been his strong suit, and she admittedly, found brewing potions to be tiresome and tedious. But she was not stupid. She knew the methods better than almost anyone she came across…

"The methods in the book say to-

"The methods in the book are archaic." Draco said. "Listen, I can't help you if you aren't going to listen to me. But clearly following step by step instructions in that bloody text book isn't working. I've brewed dreamless sleep a thousand times. If you want it to be right, you need to wait longer."

She clenched her jaw and finally sighed. "I've already mucked it up then, haven't I?"

"No. Just give it a few moments. It will start to boil. Once it does, you need to completely remove the heat source and drop the temperature a few degrees. After that, you can add the mucous, slowly. Drop by drop. Once it comes together, you can return the heat and finish it off."

She sat back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest and scowled, looking around the room. Professor Slughorn was sitting behind his desk, a small smile painted over his large face while he looked over their previous class essays. She turned in her seat to see Hermione, hair in more of a state than usual, looking particularly flustered. She looked to be quietly scolding Potter, who seemed bemused. Ron Weasley was chuckling at the two and looked as if he had completely abandoned his cauldron altogether. Next to them sat a round faced boy who she knew to be Neville Longbottom. Neville seemed nice enough, they sat near each other in Muggle studies, but he was always so nervous.

"Cut your heat." Draco said, pulling her attention back to the cauldron in front of her. "Or you're going to boil over and lose all of it."

She swished her wand and removed the flame from the underside of the cauldron. She put a cooling spell onto it for a few moments, dropping it back down to a slightly above room temperature, and then added the Flobberworm Mucous. As she stirred, the consistency came back together, and she returned the heat.

"How do you know this?" She asked, amazed at how intelligent her brother could actually be when he applied himself to something other than shagging girls and finding secret rooms in the castle to do the Dark Lord's work.

He shrugged. "I've spent years being taught by Snape. That man may be a greasy bat, but he's the best potions master this place has ever seen."

She nodded. "I reckon you're right. Does this look right?"

He peeked into her cauldron. "Add your remaining pods and you'll be set."

Slughorn rose from his desk, giving a great puff of air as he did so. "You have five minutes remaining. Once your potion is stable, we will leave it until next class to bottle and then you will be able to take it with you, should you choose. Or donate it to the hospital wing."

Elara smiled in triumph once the large man made his way over to her table. He stirred her cauldron once and then stirred Draco's and smiled, his large moustache twitching. "Beautifully done, Malfoys. Ten points to Slytherin."

He went table to table, stirring each cauldron. Most students looking defeated and annoyed. Hermione, most notably, seemed frustrated with the outcome of her potion, but she still received five house points. Harry, annoyingly, received ten points for his perfect potion.

"The fucking wank." Draco grumbled. "He's passed by the skin of his dick the last five years and all the sudden he's a fucking savant!"

"Draco! Merlin!" Elara said, exasperated. "Must you always be so crude?!"

"Yes." He said, shoving his books into his bag. "Only because it annoys you so deeply."

She rolled her eyes and slung her bag over her shoulder. She shook her hair over her shoulders and followed Draco out into the corridor. "You know, you really are quite clever. If you would use better language, people might actually find that out."

"I don't need people to find out anything." He snapped back. "And I like using my foul language."

"Ellie!"

Elara stood on her tiptoes to see Blaise walking toward them, waving. She waved back and smiled. "Blaise!"

He stopped the pair and shook Draco's hand before wrapping Elara in a tight hug. "How was Potions?"

"Coco saved me on mine, but I-

"Coco?!"

Blaise, Elara, and Draco all turned to see Ron Weasley sniggering behind them. Potter was laughing as well and Hermione looked slightly amused until catching Elara's eye, she then gave her an apologetic look.

"Watch it, weasel." Draco said.

"Oh, don't worry, coco, we'll be on our way." Potter piped in.

"Some families have pet names for each other, Potter. Although, I suppose you wouldn't know what that's like seeing as your family is dead." Draco hissed.

"Draco!" Elara warned.

"At least they aren't murdering innocent people like your scumbag Death Eater father." Harry retorted, a nasty smirk on his face.

"Mention my father one more time Potter and-

"And what?!" He said. "What are you going to do? Curse me?"

Draco brandished his wand and shoved it into His chest. "I fucking swear Potter if you don't shut your mouth…."

"That's enough." Elara said, clasping her hand around Draco's wrist. "That's quite enough." She looked fiercely at her brother, her eyes warning him to leave the situation be. She forced him to calm his mind a step, to subside his anger.

Draco clenched his jaw as he slowly lowered his wand, turning his head to meet Elara's eyes. "Let go of me."

"Blaise, would you mind taking Draco to the common room? I'll meet you there." Elara said, glaring at Draco but releasing his wrist from her grip.

Blaise nodded. "Yeah alright. C'mon mate, let's go…"

"I am perfectly fucking capable of-

"Shut up." Elara said. "You've said enough here." A finality in her voice that she had definitely inherited from her father.

Draco tightened his jaw so much Elara was afraid he may crack a tooth, but he walked away, Blaise giving him a tug on the shoulder. Potter stood, looking amused and victorious, as if he had just won his first Quidditch match.

"And you." She said, turning to him and placing her hands on her hips, her long hair swinging behind her. "You're just as immature and obnoxious as he is." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder to her brothers shrinking image. "Come up with a new insult, listening to you talk about my father is becoming tiresome."

"It's just such an easy target." He chuckled.

"Then I suggest you find better material, because if it's such an easy target that means you're too slow to come up with something wittier. I have had about enough of you targeting me and my brother simply because you think you know us or what we're involved in. Leave us alone, Potter."

With that, she turned her back to him and stomped off. Harry stood in place for a moment, feeling just as small as he did two nights ago when she had shut him down after confronting him at the Quidditch Pitch. She certainly had a decisiveness to her voice that made everyone around her stop what they were doing and thinking. She was beautiful but slightly terrifying and demanded respect. Harry was mentally noting the things he noticed about her now, since she had made it very clear that he didn't know her. But now he was beginning to feel as if he did.

Ron turned and looked at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. "I feel like mum's just shouted at us."

Harry appreciated Ron mirroring his thoughts of feeling like a small child being scolding for doing something they shouldn't have. "Yeah." He said. "You notice Malfoy listens to her, though?"

"Why shouldn't he?" Hermione asked.

"He doesn't strike me as the type of person to allow his sister to talk to him like that, especially in front of people." Harry said. "It's a little unnerving."

And it was, Harry thought. It was unnerving. He had been around Malfoy almost daily for six years now. He never backed down from a chance to one up anyone. Especially where Harry was concerned. And all of the sudden his sister shows up and tells him to quit being a prat, and he listens? It didn't make any sense. What did she have over him? He pondered the train ride here, as he observed them from his cramped position above. Every time Malfoy got worked up, started gloating about anything, began to talk of greater plan… She simply touched his hand, his face, his arm… And he'd shut up.

She touched him, and his face quit hurting.

There was something going on, he knew this. He'd been trying to convince Ron and Hermione for weeks, since seeing them in Diagon Alley. He needed to remember to talk to Hermione again, ask her if she knew of any type of magic that involved touch. Maybe some sort of mind control spell or something? He had no idea, but he would figure it out. He was determined to show his friends that he wasn't mental. He wasn't obsessed. He was right. He knew it, he just needed everyone else to know it, too.


Elara was taking notes, absolutely fascinated with the idea of muggle politics. It was interesting, she thought, that the muggle and magical world weren't really all that different. They both valued wealth and political stance. They both valued hard work and dedication. They both had solutions to every day problems, in order to make life a little easier. Albeit, Muggle solutions seemed to be either redundant or overly complex; whereas magical solutions were usually quick, simple enough, and efficient.

The open topic discussion portion was one thing she really loved about the Muggle Studies class. You could ask anything, talk about anything, question anything, and Professor Burbage tried to keep it light and informative.

Today, the topic included the Statute of Secrecy. Elara's hand shot into the air and everyone seemed to collectively hold their breaths. "Professor?" She started. "Where exactly does the fear come from?"

"Elaborate, Miss Malfoy." Professor Burbage said, leaning against the edge of her desk and looking at her from over her glasses.

"I just wonder…" She began. "A lot of the Muggle problems could be solved with magic, couldn't they? For instance, last class you mentioned that in the muggle world, a lot of people go hungry or without medicines… I know those things aren't free for us either, but if the muggles had access to Potions or a simple expansion charm… They could feed and heal their people for a lot less… So why do we not help?"

"Elara brings up a good point of view." Professor Burbage said. "As witches and Wizards, we have access to things non-magical humans don't. Should we allow them the benefit of our resources?"

Most students said yes, a few said no. Some were unsure.

"The Statute of Secrecy is in place because of the many times before that the magical world has tried to offer their resources. We have been given the privilege to live with Magic. It may have been passed down through generations over centuries, as in Miss Malfoy's case. Or, it may have been something new, a new spark in the DNA, giving you the abilities that your ancestors may not have possessed, as in Mister Finch-Fletchley's case. However, Muggles and Wizards alike, all tend to dislike what they do not understand."

"Have we broken the S.O.S before, Miss?" Justin Finch-Fletchley asked. "Were wizards ever an open part of the Muggle world?"

"Not for a very long time, I'm afraid." She said. "I'd like you all to do a small research essay. The most recent instance of an attempt at complete removal of the Statute was 1693 in America. They were still a fairly new country, a lot of Magical people moved there in hopes of starting a community where they could live freely with Muggles. I'd like you to write a ten inch essay about what happened, and what you take away from it."

Murmurs went about the room, some people whispering about their irritation at the assignment, some talking about her reference. A seventh year Gryffindor boy named Angus Matlock, leaned forward; his breath hot on Elara's neck. "She's talking about the Salem Witch Hunt in Massachusetts in the states. It's the same thing your lot does to us. The muggles did it to wizards. Wonder if that's where you got the idea?" He sniggered and before Elara could turn around to address him, Professor Burbage ended the class and she packed up her things.

She walked from the classroom, lost in her own thoughts. Muggles did it to wizards, wonder if that's where you got the idea? She frowned. She hadn't gotten any idea! She wasn't hurting anyone! She didn't want to hurt anyone! Her thoughts were interrupted by a hard shove.

"Excuse me!" She said, irritated.

"Yes. Excuse you." Fay Dunbar said, hanging onto the Angus Matlock's arm, snickering as Elara bent to pick up the book she dropped.

Elara sighed, trying to compose herself. It was getting to be exhausting having to defend herself all the time. She had hoped that taking Muggle Studies would show that she had interests that would make her less intimidating. Apparently it hadn't.

"Is there a reason you insist on being rude to me every single class?" Elara asked, making eye contact with Angus.

"Is there a reason you insist on hating muggleborns?" He retorted.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" She puffed her breath and rolled her eyes. "Clearly I have no problem with muggles or muggleborns. We've just came from the same Muggle Studies class, haven't we?"

"We all know the only reason you're taking this class is to look innocent. You're probably using it to gather information." Fay said.

"Gather information on what?! Muggles? You're absolutely right, considering the class is called Muggle Studies, I assume that's why you take it as well?!"

The pair stammered for a moment, trying to come up with an appropriate response. A chuckle came from behind Elara as Fay and Angus glared over her shoulder and then walked off. She turned around to see Blaise leaning against the wall, a smirk on his face.

"What do you want?" She snapped, righting her bag on her shoulders and heading down the corridor. "I'm going to be late for herbology."

"They have a point, you realize?" Blaise said, walking with her. "About collecting information. That's what everyone thinks you're doing by taking this class."

"I like muggles." She said. "I think they're clever, coming up with ways to make their lives easier. I took this class to do research, yes. For my own uses."

"People don't know what your own uses are." He said. "It scares them."

"Well, it's not my fault they can't mind their own business." She spat. "I'm exploring topics of interest so I can figure out what I want to do after I come of age. I don't want to work for the Ministry like father."

"I didn't picture you working at all, to be honest."

She stopped and looked at him, eyes narrowed. "You honestly believe I'd sit back and be married off? Just be a good little wife?"

He shrugged. "That's what most Pureblood Slytherin girls are going to do."

"Shame on you, Zabini." She said, wagging a finger at him. "You should know better."

As she hurried away from him, he sighed. She desperately wanted to break out of the role her parents had formed for her long ago. And she was—to an extent. She was making strides. She had finally, somehow, convinced Narcissa to let her leave the Manor and join them this year. He still was unsure about the reasonings for that, still uneasy about the motives. But, she was here. And he was grateful for it.

He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't fancy her at least a little. He'd been friends with Draco and Elara since he was six. He always admired her ability to remain collected and poised, she never sounded stupid. She also had no problem talking about her feelings, getting him to talk about them. Damn, empath. She always could tell when he upset or angry or happy. He had noticed that he wasn't the only one she could calm. He knew that Draco had a temper on him, being on the receiving end of it more than once. But this year he had more of a cold reserve, not the white hot fury that he usually had.

Something was certainly different about the Malfoy twins this year. Draco even dropped off the Quidditch team! And he had fully expected Elara to come on as Chaser, but she hadn't even asked him about try-outs yet.

Yes. He was sure something funny was going on. He only hoped it truly had nothing to do with the Dark Lord. Because even the Malfoys could get over their heads, sometimes. Look at where it's landed Lucius.


a/n: So first thing first: Huge thank you to onthereadr for their advice about tags and the lovely review! My dumbass hadn't thought to add character tags! (womp womppp) So, if you've favorited or followed or anything recently, THANK YOU! I've gotten a few more since adding tags. I appreciate it!

I'm updating fairly quick! I just realized upon going through the mass of un-edited jibberish I have saved to my laptop, I have like three more chapters that just need a few edits to upload, so I'll probably be posting those all back to back here soon. I'm trying to stay ahead of what I have posted, in case I get an idea for a change of direction-which happens a lot for me haha

I have the next couple days off from work for a change and not many other obligations in that time frame, so I'll have plenty of caffeine and whiskey fueled time to write and upload.

Anyway, PLEASE review! I love to hear from you, and I promise to respond :)