Disclaimer: I don't own any characters.

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Chapter 16

That dinner was the best dinner of Harry's life. Everything was better. The food was better, Ron's jokes were better, and he was even surprised that he didn't get the slightest bit annoyed when Malfoy called out, "Alright there, scarhead."

He was on an all time high and no one could bring him down. Not even Snape.

First class on Monday morning was potions and Harry was still reeling from yesterday's events. All of Snape's comments soared by him in indifference. He was able to calmly ignore Snape and get on with his potion. By the end of the class Harry was not the slightest bit surprised when his potion received and 'E' (exceeds expectations), which is more that can be said for Snape.

"Your potion may have received an E, Potter, but I am taking five points from Gryffindor, as I am sure you cheated," Snape said silkily when most of the class had left.

It was a sign of how happy Harry was that he didn't even get upset. "Nothing we can't earn back in a good game of quidditch," he said calmly with no intention of being rude. "By the way, Professor, Sirius says hello."

Harry, Hermione and Ron left the classroom almost doubled over in laughter at the look of pure horror on Snape's face.

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Not everyone was having as wonderful days as Harry's. In fact, Draco was feeling absolutely miserable. He confined himself to his dorm most of the time and only came out to eat and go to class.

Crabbe and Goyle tried talking to him but most of their conversations went like this:

"Um, Draco? We were going to fly around the quidditch pitch, want to come?"

"Can't you idiots see that I'm busy?!" when in fact he was just sitting on his bed thinking hard.

Of course, no one but Draco knew why he was in such a foul mood. It was the sisters. He still didn't know what to do. He was sure that if he betrayed his father and the Dark Lord, he would die. On the other hand, he was also quite sure that if he betrayed the sisters, he was also likely to die.

In short, Draco was stuck between a rock and a hard place. It was either: gather information to help destroy the sisters or risk being tortured to death by Death Eaters. It was a lose-lose situation.

It didn't help that he didn't exactly hate the sisters either. It would have been so much easier if the were annoying and ugly. But no, instead they had to be funny and witty, and have cool lessons and they were gorgeous, in Draco's opinion.

How could he just hand them over to the Voldemort to be murdered when they had never done anything to him (unless you count the pink apron)? Could he live with himself knowing that they had died because of him?

It was these unpleasant thoughts and another letter from his father that had finally driven him out of his room. The letter had read:

Draco,

I assume that you haven't written because you are hard at work. You better be. The Dark lord is expecting information soon and it would be best to deliver. Do not fail me, son. Remember where your loyalties lie.

L.M.

The letter burst into flame the moment he had finished reading it. He watched as its ashes disappeared on the floor.

He had to clear his mind. So now he walked purposefully towards the quidditch pitch. There was no better way to forget something than by doing a few laps on his Nimbus 2001.

There was a small breeze that played across his face and blew his hair back as he walked. When he reached the pitch he mounted his broom and kicked hard off of the ground.

Higher and higher he climbed until he could no longer stand the cold and dampness of the clouds around him. He let the cold numb him and let that numbness spread throughout his body and into his head. He thought of nothing but the broom beneath him and the sky around him. Then he shot forward. Faster and faster he went until the wind was pressing so hard against his chest he could hardly breathe. He did a few laps like this before descending slightly.

He went just low enough to be able to see the stands. They were completely empty save for a single person, though they were too far away for Draco to see and he didn't really care that they were there.

He decided to do a small speed test again. He flew to one end of the pitch and stopped to hover in front of the goal hoops much like a Keeper would. Then without warning he grasped the handle firmly and flattened himself on the broom as he sped forward like an arrow. He went faster and faster until the rushing wind was almost blinding him.

He had to have been going at least sixty miles an hour.

He was nearly at the other end of the pitch when something brown streaked in front of him. He swore loudly as he dived down and narrowly avoided a collision with it.

Flying almost vertical, he gave a glance upwards and saw that the brown thing he had almost hit was an owl and it was headed towards the school.

That bloody letter better be important, he thought savagely as he turned back round to face the direction he was going in, wind still howling in his ears making it difficult to hear.

The ground was five feet away. Not nearly enough time to slow down.

He hit the ground with a mind blowing crunch and was immediately rendered unconscious.

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Piper had to hold back the tears when she saw the look on Harry's face when his parents appeared. She felt so happy at being able to reunite him with his parents, even if it was only for a short time. This, she thought, is what our magic is all about.

She could see the enormous impact that the event had had on Harry. Every time she saw him he was smiling, he was doing exceptionally well in all of his classes, as she had heard some of the teachers talking in the teachers room.

On the whole, everyone looked happier. That is except for one person, Draco. Piper had noticed that he seemed rather distant lately. He kept to himself in class and never really talked to anyone. Not that he was a social butterfly before, but he at least talked to his own house-mates. She was also surprised to notice that he rarely insulted anyone anymore and when he did it was half-heartedly, as though it was more of an automatic response. In short, she thought he looked as though there were a great weight on his shoulders.

She approached Phoebe and Paige one day with her observations but they didn't really take her seriously.

"It's called being a teenager, Piper," said Paige. "We all had our little moody phases."

"Yeah, and we still have them…once a month anyway," said Phoebe jokingly.

"I'm not kidding, guys. Haven't you noticed a change in him?" Piper persisted.

"Well, maybe he has changed. Maybe he finally decided to grow up," said Phoebe.

Still, maybe it was her maternal instincts, but Piper couldn't help but worry.

Which is why she was surprised to see Draco walk onto the quidditch pitch by himself one afternoon. She had come to the pitch for some peace and quiet to plan out her next lesson when she saw him arrive. Apparently, he didn't see her because he soared into the air without as much as a sideways glance.

She almost laughed at first because she remembered the time when her, Phoebe and Prue had gone back in time and Phoebe had flown on a broom after saying that it was stereotypical.

She watched him go higher and higher until she lost him in the clouds, so she went back to her lesson plan.

When she was finished with her lesson she folded the parchment and put it and the quill she was using into the bag she had brought with her. She looked up just in time to see Draco speeding from one end of the pitch to the other. She almost screamed when the owl came soaring out of nowhere but breathed a sigh of relief when he dodged out of the way.

However, when she saw that he wasn't looking where he was going as he was hurtling towards the ground, she did scream.

"Draco, look out!"

But it was too late. He had hit the ground. Hard.

Piper ran down to the field and gave a gasp of horror as she reached Draco's crumpled body.

He was on his side before she slowly turned him over. Blood was spilling freely from a gash on his head and from his mouth and nose. His left arm was at an odd angle and she saw a bump on his right leg that she was sure was his bone. Tears welled up in her eyes. She knew if she didn't act fast, Draco would die.

Blinking the tears away she yelled. "Leo! LEO HELP!"

Leo arrived instantly and as soon as he saw Draco he bent over his body. "What happened?" he asked urgently.

"H-he crashed his broom."

Leo held out his hands over Draco's face and they began to glow. Slowly the cut on his head began to mend and the blood pouring from his mouth and nose began to fade. Leo then quickly moved to his arm and leg and healed those next.

A few seconds after Leo had finished, Draco opened his eyes slowly. His entire body hurt as though he had just been subjected to the Cruciatus curse for an hour straight.

His vision was blurred as he looked around wearily before asking in a hoarse whisper, "What happened?"

"You almost died, that's what happened," said Leo.

"Who are you?" asked Draco trying to move away from Leo while noticing Piper for the first time.

She's crying. Why? Because of me? he thought confusedly.

"Never mind that now," said Leo impatiently. "I've healed him enough, but we should still get him to the hospital wing."

Piper nodded. She put one arm around Draco's shoulder (he tensed at her touch) and took Leo's hand with the other. Together they orbed to the hospital wing.

The soreness of his body combined with the uneasiness in his stomach and dizziness of having just orbed was too much for Draco and he doubled over and was sick right on the hospital floor.

Piper didn't know what to do so she just rubbed his back comfortingly. "Hello! Is anyone here?" Piper called.

A door on her right opened and out came Madame Pomfrey followed by Dumbledore himself.

Poppy gave a small squeal of surprise at seeing the three of them there but as soon as she saw the state that Draco was in she went into nurse-mode.

"Scourgify," she said as she aimed her wand at the puddle of throw up in front of Draco's feet. "What happened?"

"He crashed his broom because of an owl," said Piper.

All the while, Poppy was bustling about pulling different potions from a cupboard. Some were in small, fat vials others were in long, thin vials and some weren't in vials at all but big jars.

"Come here Mr. Malfoy and lay down. Now I want you to drink this," she said handing him a fat vial filled with purple liquid, "it will help your stomach. And this," a long and skinny vial filled with a blue liquid, "this will help the soreness. It's a miracle he didn't' break any bones."

"He did. Actually he was in really bad shape before Leo healed him," said Piper. "He was bleeding all over the place and I think his arm and leg was broken."

Poppy looked at Leo in amazement while Dumbledore just looked on curiously waiting to hear what Leo would say.

"How did you heal him without any potions or a wand?" she asked bewildered.

"Perhaps another time Poppy," said Dumbledore softly. "Let us just be thankful that he was able to do what he did. Or our young Mr. Malfoy here might not be with us."

Draco all the while was listening with his eyes closed. Partly because he had a headache and partly because he wanted them to think he was asleep. If it really was as bad as Piper said, he could have died.

That means they saved my life. If they knew what I was supposed to do they probably would have let me die, he thought grimly.

Would they? his mind argued back. After all, they are…good.

Draco almost shuddered at the word. What the hell am I supposed to do now? The Dark Lord is waiting for information, and I if I don't' deliver, it's my ass…or father's.

So they saved your life and this is how your going to repay them? his mind taunted back.

Shut up! he screamed inwardly. I'm not supposed to have a conscience. What should I care if they die, I don't know them and they don't mean anything to me.

Murderer…his mind hissed at him.

I wish they would have let me die. At least that way I wouldn't have to choose. He didn't know why but he was starting to feel groggy.

How ironic, his mind chuckled, you kill the people that save you to save your own hide. Now that's a true Slytherin. He was realizing just how tired he really was.

Damn that Pomfrey, was the last thing he thought before slipping off to sleep.

He should have known she would have slipped him a sleeping potion. He would no longer argue with himself…but…he was free to dream, and dream he did.