Disclaimer: Ok, why do we have to have humorous disclaimers? I mean, come on people, I'm serious. I don't own anything in this story except the somewhat plot and Autumn le Fay. I am not J.K. Rowling. The end. See? It's really quite easy to keep a straight face if you try.

A/N.: Well, I'm excited about chapter 3, even though it's one of those "this chapter is only here to move the plot *cough* whatplot? *cough* along. It leaves a lot of questions, I know. They shall be answered in future chapters, but if you think I'm liable to forget to answer one, post it in a review! I'll love you forever…

P.S. I was gonna get a ferret today. But mum wouldn't let me have it. ;_;

Again, thanks to Jenni of Serene-Silence.net. This till probably be her last beta read for a while though, as things are getting busy, so perhaps next chapter we shall have a guest beta… ^_^

* * * * *

Autumn le Fay was a bright girl. At least that's what her family had always said. She came from an old wizarding family that produced a long line of powerful (and in Autumn's opinion, sometimes just plain screwy) witches and wizards, dating back to Merlin and beyond. They claimed she deserved the best of schooling. (Which both her parents concurred she was not receiving at her current school in America) She was therefore shipped off to Hogwarts within the hour they had received word the transfer was accepted.

Fine time to send me to a new school. I mean, my 5th year, what were they thinking?

Though she thought this, Autumn was not one to complain on the outside. To everyone else, she took it in stride. The transfer, the sorting into what her father explained was "the most ambitious house in all of Europe. All the greats were Slytherins, so I've heard!", and the new fellow students. Ah yes, the new group of could-be friends that she would soon charm with her astounding grace and beauty.

Yeah, right.

Her first day had been frighteningly hectic. She had rushed from one class to the other, while meeting and trying to impress her new professors, dodging nervous first years, and settling into her new dorm. She supposed it was just her, but her dorm seemed frightfully dark and dreary compared to her vibrant sunny room at her old school. The walls were composed of some sort of black stone, which reflected almost everything. The furniture was mainly green and black, and even the flames burning in the fireplace seemed to have a greenish tint to them.

House spirit, I suppose, Autumn pondered gloomily that evening as she slouched in one of the black chairs. The common room was empty, considering most of the other students were still socializing or studying elsewhere. She had been there for several hours, reading letters from home and contemplating the classes on her schedule.


She had almost nodded off to sleep when she was startled by a muffled groan. She twisted around in her chair just in time to see a tall boy of about her age heading towards the boy's dorms. He had one hand on his head and a swollen nose protruded from his pale face.

"Hey. You okay?" she asked, though it was quite obvious he was not.

His reply was to swing with a large force towards her, a menacing look on his face. He had obviously overexerted himself, for he gripped the chair and stood staring at the floor. Autumn slid out of her chair and came around to stand a few inches in front of him.

"Gosh, what happened to you?" she tilted her head down curiously, wondering at the same time whether or not the boy was quite sober. Maybe he needed help getting to the hospital wing.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"Shut up." He snapped as he yanked his head upright.

Well, we're making progress. At least he's talking now, she thought. Aloud, she murmured "I'm sorry", but the first word disappeared on her lips as she stared at the face now raised before her. The boy had obviously been in an accident of some sort, yet the look of anger on his face made her wonder if it had been an accident at all. Besides his raw nose, his forehead bore what appeared to be the remnants of a fresh wound. His shiny blonde hair was mussed, draping lazily in front of his cold, yet brilliant, gray eyes. His countenance was one of a dragon in search of its prey.

I suppose if he didn't look as though he just fell 200 feet off a broomstick and landed on a pile of jagged rocks, he could be quite handsome, Autumn mused to herself.

But it was obvious he wasn't interested in his appearance at the moment. Wondering exactly what she should do, Autumn remained where she stood, afraid to speak. Her question was answered soon enough. The boy with the dragon countenance glanced at her once more, then without another word, stormed out of the common room towards the 6th years' boy dorms.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too." She muttered sarcastically as she gathered her belongings before heading up to her own dorm, and to bed.

* * * * *

Draco Malfoy had a plan. This wasn't some cheesy "plan to extract revenge and take over the world, mwahaha" type either. It was simple and brilliant, and most importantly: it would work. The only thing was that Draco didn't know he had a brilliant plan. It had been forming subconsciously in his devious mind for the past four weeks. And today was the day, the day it would be carried out. The day was the first Quidditch game of the season between Gryffindor and Slytherin. The Slytherin seeker yanked on his green Quidditch cloak and snatched up his trusty Firebolt 4000, the best broom currently available.

Four weeks. Four long weeks of hearing nothing but whispers, and giggles, spoken when he entered a room or walked down the halls. Four long weeks of watching his red forehead and swollen nose slowly, too slowly in fact, return to normal. Four long weeks of watching the famous Boy-Who-Lived and his redhead sidekick get attention and sympathy when their little mudblood friend recounted how Malfoy had "brutally attacked" them. Four weeks, parts of which had been spent doing all number of House-Elf jobs in detention.

Clean the prefects' bathroom indeed.

Malfoys didn't clean anything, with the general exception of their platinum blonde manes, of course.

Draco smoothed his own hair as he strode towards the Quidditch arena. Fortunately they hadn't taken away his Quidditch playing privileges. His father had made sure of that. Oh yes, his father had made sure a lot of things. Draco was still allowed to play Quidditch, go to Hogsmeade, go to this year's Yule Ball, and … that other special privilege no one talked about. (Honestly, what was so bad about having your own carriage take you on trips on the weekends?) Indeed, Draco should have been quite happy to have had dodged so much of Snape's intended punishment. He should have been happy to have gotten nothing from his father except a letter of reprimand. (Howlers were far below the Malfoys, yet that ink certainly did look blood red now that he really thought about it…). But he was miserable. So what if his father had been too busy to kill him (and to come to his Quidditch game, for that matter); If his peers' looks could kill…

The arena was filled with students dressed in their house robes and cloaks, cheering as each team marched onto the field. Draco stood by himself, squinting at the crowds in the sunlight. There were Potter's miserable friends, waving excitedly at Harry and smiling far too much. There was Colin Creevey, the mousy fifth year, (who was starting to get unhumanly tall, if you asked Draco) snapping pictures at an incredible rate.

"Mount your brooms!" Came Madame Hooch's loud voice.

Draco floated far above the field and the teams. Across the arena from the Gryffindors were the Slytherins, seeming none the worse for having a humiliating Seeker. Crabbe and Goyle were stuffing their faces, as usual, and Pansy Parkinson sat with a brown-headed Hufflepuff. She had dyed her hair a creepy bluish-black, and was wearing some of the largest hoop earrings Draco had ever seen. He suddenly realized how much he had missed in the past four weeks. Though he had seen them almost every day, he realized many of his fellow students had changed drastically. They had either grown since the year before, gained a new boyfriend/girlfriend, or changed so much he couldn't even recognize them.

Then another face caught his eye. It was the girl he had met his first night that year. The one who had gawked, and was gawking still. The minute his eyes met hers though, she turned away, and shoved a chocolate frog offered her by Goyle into her mouth. Draco kept staring, however. She was another person he hadn't had time to notice in the month previous. And yet he now remembered all the times he had felt eyes in the back of his head. It had to have been that idiot girl, no doubt. Though why she was so interested in him he had no idea. His pondering time was cut short, however, for the snitch was let loose, and he and Harry were off after it, neck and neck.

Autumn le Fay sat excitedly in her seat, watching the game with anticipation. Very few people knew it by the look of her, but Autumn was an excellent Quidditch player, and enjoyed a good game any day of the week. For her first four years at her old school, she had been the champion seeker, winning four games in a row her third year, two in a row her fourth. Her small size, quick eye, and good balance, helpful in catching elusive snitches, were her trademarks. But this year she had given up Quidditch, choosing instead to bury herself in her books. And for some reason, she didn't regret it one bit.

As the teams had filed onto the field, she had studied each face carefully, finally realizing why she hadn't seen some of these faces as often as other students. Quidditch players practiced hard and often, sometimes receiving special permission from professors to practice during class time. She had seen a few faces on each team that she recognized. For one, Harry Potter, Gryffindor seeker, and two, Ron Weasley, keeper for the same team. On the Slytherin side, she had recognized several more. There was Niles Wynters, the disgustingly rude keeper who her first week at Hogwarts had asked her to Hogsmeade. (More like told her she would go with him. Were all these Slytherins alike? She refused him to his snub-nosed face.) Also Astrella Vallette, the raven-haired beauty (who didn't know her?) who played beater.

Then her eyes settled on the Slytherin seeker. Draco Malfoy. She had gathered his name only after a practically ruthless interrogation of Pansy and co. (They had replied with "Who wants to know?!"s spattered with shrieks and giggles.) She thought it a fitting name for the boy with the dragon countenance. Yet his surname came as no surprise. She was sure her family knew the Malfoys somewhat, for they had been around as long as the le Fays, possibly longer. But she also knew the connotations the Malfoy name had. It was not only a name that meant pride and riches, but some of the darkest wizards ever known in the wizarding world. It had all started to make sense after a letter from her older sister.

Dearest Autumn,

In response to your last letter, yes, the Malfoy name is well known to our family, but we have not had contact with them for many years, since the beginning of the war. This focuses mainly around the fact that Lucius Malfoy is a suspected Deatheater, often thought to have worked closely with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, though Lucius claims he was under a spell, and denies any current connection with the dark wizard. Of course everyone knows who stopped H-W-M-N-B-N. Harry Potter himself. This may have caused some of the animosity you described between Harry and Draco. I'm not sure of the youngest Malfoy's intentions in life, but considering his family background I would be wary before befriending him. Good luck on your Divination exam.

As Always, Your Loving Sister,

Sommer.

Animosity, indeed! Autumn had made a mental note to herself to be careful when the two boys were anywhere near each other. And at this point in the Quidditch game, with both seekers on the same field, she realized the gravity of the situation. She kept her eyes alert, looking for any sign of the gold snitch. The seekers were circling the arena in opposite directions, every so often playing a game of chicken in the sky, one or the other dodging elaborately at the last moment. Autumn got more than slightly irritated when one of these games took place almost directly above her.

Idiots. If they just keep going in circles, that stupid snitch will never be caught, and we could be here all day!

Draco was fuming, his anger gathering more and more with each lap around the field. Everything was going as planned, and as he swooped once more over the Gryffindor box, he felt inside his cloak. His wand was still there, waiting to do its work. Then, before anyone knew what was happening, Draco swooped higher upwards and then towards the middle of the arena, ready to draw his wand once there. Gasps came from the audience, thinking he had spotted the snitch. But at this moment something happened that no one had expected, including Draco.

One of the bludgers was roped. This had happened only once before at a Hogwarts game, and the bludger had nearly killed Harry. Though fortunately – or not so fortunately, as it turned out – he ended up with only a broken arm. This time, the bludger was jumping from person to person, swirling about like a furious bumblebee before aiming itself at their heads or stomachs. Soon every player on the field was playing a game of dodgeball instead of Quidditch. Draco sat high above everyone, shocked and annoyed, not to mention forgotten by the horrified, and now silent, students in the stands. And then, all eyes were on him. The bludger had finally left its previous victim, Astrella Vallette, and was heading straight for the unsuspecting Slytherin seeker's back.

"Draco, watch out!" Autumn screamed before she knew what she was doing. All Draco heard was a muffled shriek, but it was enough. He turned in time to make a nosedive, and then the chase was on. Draco attempted every trick in the book, trying to shake the bludger and smash it into something, the walls of the arena, the ground, anything. He was having no success.

Perhaps I should let the bloody thing slam into me, it wouldn't do me any harm, and I would probably be doing everyone else a favor.

Autumn's mind was in a tizzy. The world around her seemed paralyzed with the fear that at any moment the bludger would aim itself at their heads. Madame Hooch was frantically calling the players from the air, while at the same time keeping a close eye on Draco and the ruthless bludger. Autumn then realized she was moving. She was getting up from her seat and running towards the entrance of the field, where Madame Hooch and almost all of both teams stood.

"Madame Hooch, how are we going to stop it?!" came Astrella's usually liquid smooth voice, now shrieky in tone.

"I suppose someone will have to go up there and get it. But I'm not risking any of you all on that thing."

Madame Hooch then reached for her own broom, and appeared about to take off, when a voice came from behind her.

"Let me go get it. Please."

The professor turned to look into Autumn le Fay's wide-eyed face. Then she turned back around, ignoring her.

"PLEASE! I know what I'm doing!"

Madame Hooch turned around once more, took a narrow-eyed sweeping glance of the girl, and then handed Autumn her own broom almost grudgingly.

"You'd better know what you're doing."

Autumn was on it and in the air before it occurred to her exactly what she was doing. She, Autumn le Fay, was going to single-handedly save the Slytherin seeker from a roped bludger?! What had she been thinking?! But she realized it was too late to turn back now. Below, Professor Snape was begging Madame Hooch for a reason as to why Autumn, and not herself, was on that broom. It was the last thing Autumn heard before she was far above the field.

I honestly wish I knew myself, Professor.

A quick glance showed her exactly what kind of predicament Draco was in. He was slouched on his broom, holding on for dear life, and obviously growing extremely weary. Someone either needed to either catch the bludger or at least draw its attention away from Draco. Autumn decided on the latter option, considering it held the promise of the least injuries on her part. She swooped after Draco's Firebolt, and finally caught up to him; the bludger was following, gaining swiftly.

"Go down!" She screamed.

Draco turned his head towards her with an annoyed, puzzled look.

"I said, land your broom!" She gestured to the ground this time.

"But that bloody thing is right behi-"

"Leave the bludger to me! GO DOWN!"

Draco wasn't going to complain at this point, he had been dodging the runaway bludger for a full twenty minutes now, and definitely would not mind a break. But just because he went to the field didn't mean the bludger would ignore him.

"That thing will still follow me!"

"I know! Just trust me! I know what I'm doing!"

Trust her indeed. If only I weren't so exhausted – but I am so exhausted.

Draco threw one more annoyed "are you sure?" type glances at Autumn, only to find she had moved below him, almost to the ground, and sat hovering there.

"On the count of three, dive! One, two, three!"

Draco asked no questions, but dropped suddenly. He hadn't realized how far up he had been flying until he was plummeting towards the ground. What this would accomplish he did not know, and was furiously trying to figure out, when a streak went past him, it going up as he went down.

Autumn had sat below Draco until she yelled three, and then had shot up directly towards him. She had approached the seeker and the bludger rapidly.

A few more feet…

Draco shot down past her, the bludger following closely behind his broom's tail. The bludger seemed to be paying no attention to Autumn, though she had hoped it would have. It seemed there was no other choice. Autumn moved in between the bludger and the retreating Draco, and sat balancing herself. The bludger was approaching at an amazing rate…

WHAP

Autumn turned sideways suddenly, hitting the bludger with the back end of her broom forcefully into left field. No sooner was it off than she followed suit, straining to catch up with it. She leaned forward, arm outstretched, reaching for the wayward ball. And then, as quickly as it had gone one way, the bludger went the other – straight towards Autumn. An audible gasp swept through the crowds , watching in horror as the ball hit her square in the stomach before her arms encircled it, clutching it tightly as it strained to get loose.

Draco had finally landed, and as he turned around was just in time to see Autumn fall onto the Quidditch field in a crumpled heap of black and green robes.