A/N: Hi guys!!! Despite final exams, I have updated, and even sooner than
usual!! Yay! I hate making you guys wait, and I have no idea how my amazing
friend talin manages to take all those classes and write like 3 stories
simultaneously. If anybody's a Passions fan, she's ur girl. Anyways, I'm
glad that my story isn't turning out all too predictable. To a Very
Interested reader, you'll see that things are turning out a lot differently
than you predicted. Please, please, keep reviewing, evry1, I don't need to
mention how wonderful they are. Oh, and P.S. I regret that Hermione is
acting a lil nasty towards Eve. She's a fav character, so you will see her
in a better light in upcoming chaps. Oh ya, I have made her, like myself,
an "arm" girl, hehe (u'll see in the chapter).
Chapter Fourteen: The Plan Deepens
Wormtail walked into the room, the light from the fireplace being only a minor pollutant to the darkness. His silvery hand was glinting from the fire - its glint was reflected in his eyes: he had good news for his master.
"Yes, what is it, Wormtail?" came a high voice, which was more like the hiss of a snake-not remotely human.
"My lord, we have the Minister of Magic. Lucius Malfoy has him under the Imperius Curse this very moment."
"Excellent. I admit that at first I thought he wouldn't be up to the job; it would be too much of a danger to his seemingly honorable reputation."
The short, bald man had a smile on his rat-like face. " My Lord, from now on, it is unnecessary to keep up an honorable reputation."
"Yes, even an idiot like you can appreciate that, Wormtail. With the Minister of Magic, we know have full control of the dementors-they cannot refuse us now. Their first task will be to surround the school, so they can distract that fool Dumbledore from my presence. "
"We have Fudge, but what about Lucius's son?"
"He will be joining us soon."
"Good. Then we have everyone in our plan? Is it complete?"
"Not yet. But it will be - as soon as we have my daughter."
_________________________________________
Draco was lying on his bed, on his back, still fully clothed. He had asked his father when his death-eater initiations would begin, and his answer was due back soon. The trouble was, Draco wasn't even sure if he wanted to go through with them in the first place. But his father had made it crystal clear that he didn't have much of a choice; if he refused to help, a crucial part of the plan would be missing. Then there was only two directions that would lead to: they would torture him until he gave in - or until they would kill him. His own father wouldn't hesitate at torturing him, he was sure of that. To Lucius Malfoy, he was nothing but a commodity, a way to try and raise the damn family honor higher; and the Malfoy family seldom enjoyed being disappointed. Finally he saw his eagle owl swoop into his room, but instead of feeling relieved, he felt an increasing sense of dread: he would be forced to finally make a decision. Moreover, he felt sick to his stomach even imagining the horrendous things he would have to do to become a death- eater. When he asked his father what he had done during his initiations, he hadn't told him. He said it didn't matter because each person was assigned a specific task. Knowing his crucial role in Voldemort's plan, Draco was sure his task would be worse than others: he needed to prove his loyalty more than anyone else. His eagle owl hooted impatiently, and he rose up from bed, although with much hesitation. He took the letter, fed his owl a treat, and swooped out. The letter read:
Draco,
The Dark Lord will be appearing at the school soon, after the dementors, of course, to meet with his daughter. I presume that your relations with her are going well, as it is very crucial to our plan. After meeting her, he will meet you privately to begin your initiation. I regret to say that I won't be present; I have work to do. After the first step, you need to fulfill one task to become one of us and prove your loyalty - and ability - to go on with the plan. Your task is fairly simple, but will be very effective in instilling fear into the school: You must murder Severus Snape. He has betrayed us and is believes that he has acted as a spy for Dumbledore, but we know. He must be killed, to show what happens to those who are not loyal to the Dark Lord, and you are the one closest to him, not to mention that he trusts you. Send back your owl as soon as possible telling me how you want to accomplish this and how long it will take you. You must clear yourself of any other plans, even those involving the Potter boy, until you accomplish your task. I expect to be hearing from you soon. I expect even more that you will finally make me proud, boy. I do not want to regret having only one failure for an heir.
L.M.
As Draco finished reading this, his fingers vaguely loosened and the paper floated onto his desk. He became even more pale than usual. He felt his insides squirm as if a bucket of freezing ice water had been poured down his throat. He was staring into blank space with complete astonishment and his silvery eyes were widened as he whispered in horror, "Snape."
_________________________________
The next morning at breakfast Draco was acting no more like a zombie; he was walking to and from his classes as if he were in a daze. The initial shock of what he was expected to do had not fully come off him. How was he supposed to murder, in cold blood, his most favorite professor of seven years? With each passing year, he felt he could relate more and more to Snape. (Not counting his disgusting hair, of course), he thought with almost a smile. Was he going to end up like Snape one day? An ex- Death Eater, hated by the Dark Side and mistrusted by the other side, living alone, isolated, and in hatred of himself. That was not a prospect that appealed to him much. Yet becoming and remaining a Death Eater was equally repulsive. He only hoped that Eve would change things.
Thinking of Eve was painful. She had of course noticed his odd behavior, but he had distanced himself from all her efforts to comfort him. He could not possibly tell her what he was about to do. He could not tell anyone: he had to face this enormous burden completely alone, as he had always done in the past. The only good thing about the situation was the look on Potter's face whenever he would see Eve's concern for him. He knew he was stewing in jealousy, but he didn't need to, Draco thought grimly. Quidditch, fame, talent, bravery, even love --everything came so easily to Potter. His hate for him came not because he supported Mudbloods and Dumbledore and fought against Voldemort; it was because of the life he held, admired by all, but even more so, because he always seemed to know what to do - what was the RIGHT thing to do. It was almost second nature to him, to be likable. It was second nature for Draco, on the other hand, to be reviled. Only Snape had shown a somewhat liking toward him. He knew that Dumbledore and the rest of his teachers were suspicious of him. Even his father didn't like him much. But Harry was the one who outrightly rejected his hand of friendship seven years ago, and he hated him most because of that.
_________________________________________________
Meanwhile, spirits in Gryffindor tower were ironically raised. Fred and George were constantly throwing everyone in throes of laughter with their jokes and prank magical tricks, which had evolved from their original Canary Creams. Hermione, Harry, and Ron were happy at the prospect of Sirius's arrival, and the possibility of Lupin showing up. Harry tried to deny the nagging thought in the back of his head saying that Sirius's arrival might coincide with Voldemort's. Last time they both showed up, they had used the Forbidden Forest, and they both would possibly use it again. He had revealed his fears to Dumbledore of course, and he assured him he would be keeping his eyes open.
Suddenly he heard a scream from the boys' dormitories, which sounded horribly like Ron. He raced upstairs, bracing himself as to what he might be seeing. But as he saw Ron he couldn't help but double up and shake uncontrollably in spasms of laughter.
"I'm going to KILL Fred and George! Wait 'till I find them. No wands, I'm going to rip them apart with my bare hands!" He was shouting furiously.
And he had good reason. He was in a towel, dripping wet. His bright red hair had increased about five or six times its original size, resulting in a curly red afro about three feet tall which would have made the biggest disco enthusiast squirm. Harry couldn't stop laughing; he was on the floor, finding it difficult to breathe.
"They must have put in some sort of Engorgement Potion in my shampoo! I can't believe them!"
"Can't you fix it?" Harry asked, wiping tears from his eyes.
"No, I can't. Don't you think I already tried? And I can't go out in public to Madame Pomfrey looking like this! Stop laughing, will you? You're not helping, you know," he added at the end when Harry continued chuckling.
"Malfoy would have a field day if he ever saw you like this," he said.
"Well then we'd better make sure he doesn't."
Right on cue, Neville and Seamus walked in. "What happened? We thought we heard a scream," Neville said. But as soon as they saw Ron, they both burst into uproarious laughter, just like Harry. Ron sighed and rolled his eyes in frustration.
"Will you guys just try and figure out a way to help me get rid of this?" he cried in exasperation.
Harry said, amid smiles, "First let's figure out a way to get your head past the door."
___________________________________________
"Draco, I need to talk to you," a harsh voice came from Draco's door as it opened. He hastily stuffed his father's letter into a drawer.
"What's that?"
"Nothing," he muttered. Eve's eyes flashed in anger.
"What is it? Let me see it!"
"I said, its nothing. Nothing that concerns you, anyway. Just some family business."
Apparently his answer wasn't nearly satisfying. Eve's face was still twisted in anger. She looked almost frightening.
"Like HELL it doesn't concern me. First, your thoughts are nothing but a cloudy mystery. Then, out of nowhere, you act odd all day today, walking around as if in a daze, and now your getting secret letters. What are you hiding from me, Draco??"
"Look, if I was able to tell you, I would have already," he cried in frustration.
"Let me see that letter," she demanded.
"No!" he said, more as a means of stalling than as protection. His wand was working furiously under his desk.
"Let me see it!!" she repeated, and opened the drawer, grabbing the piece of parchment; it was totally bare. Her anger only increased.
"You erased it? Draco, TELL ME WHAT"S GOING ON!" He was silent. Eve continued, " How could you keep secrets from me, especially since you know what my father's like? Especially since.since..." her voice broke.
"Since what?"
"Since THIS," she said, and pulled up her left sleeve, brandishing her arm. On her forearm was, sure enough, the Dark Mark, burning as black as coal. "It's never been this clear before. It's burning like hell. What does this mean, Draco?"
Draco gulped, "All I can tell you is that it's not good."
Eve seemed to have calmed down somewhat, but it didn't reach her eyes. They seemed more green than ever before, but they were terrifying. She moved in closer to him, her nose inches from his face. She spoke in a chillingly calm voice.
" Draco, let me tell you. I am the LAST person you want to cross. If you keep something from me, you will regret it more than if you were a Death Eater who had betrayed my father." And with that, she left the room, leaving Draco quite shaken.
_____________________________________
Hermione was lost in a fit of giggles. "No, really, think it looks great," she sputtered.
"Will everyone stop laughing and help me? C'mon Herm, you're my only hope," Ron cried. His head was swaying to and fro. Apparently the weight of his afro was taking a toll on his neck. It swayed over dangerously, and Ron fell on his back. A fresh burst of laughter erupted from the room. He got up, furious. Hermione, seeing his expression and feeling sorry for him, took out her wand. In less than a minute his hair was back to its normal size, with a few tufts of curls only slightly out of place. He ran to a mirror and started fingering his hair.
"You boys are so much more vain than you make yourselves out to be," Hermione muttered. Then she looked at Ron as if she hadn't seen him properly until then. "Ooh, Ron, your arms. I like," she said, her brown eyes sparkling. Ron glanced at her and turned a deep shade of crimson. While waiting for Hermione to come, he had put on some pants, but he hadn't had a shirt on, as he couldn't get his head through any of them. Apparently Malfoy wasn't the only one who had been "working out." His long arms were no longer bony as they had been when he was younger, and to Hermione, his tall, lean body was starting the initial processes of going ga-ga. He even had freckles on his back, which in her opinion, were the most adorable things she had seen. She wondered where ELSE he had freckles she had never seen before. Ron was getting exceedingly embarrassed. He didn't even like walking around without a shirt in front of his own sister. But with that body, why in the hell is he so shy, Hermione wondered. He immediately put on a sleeveless undershirt, still red in the face. Harry looked at them knowingly.
"Guys, I think maybe we'd better leave," he said, gesturing to Dean and Seamus.
"Ohhh, alright," Seamus winked as they left the room. Ron ran his long fingers through his hair again, grinning sheepishly.
"Thanks, Herm. I couldn't even bear to have anybody else seeing my like that," he said. "Honestly, sometimes I don't know what Harry or I would do without you sometimes.''
"Well, you know you're going to have to thank me properly," she said, giggling, putting her arms around him.
"Hermione, you know you're too brilliant for me. I'm just an overgrown git. I don't have money or fame, or even that many talents. Why DID you pick me?"
"Because, you have a good heart," she said, a tenderness in her voice which melted him.
"So does Harry."
"But YOU love me in a way he doesn't," she whispered.
"And that's the difference?"
"I'm not sure. I know there's more than that. I just can't put it into words." Then she added, "Oh yeah, and you have those adorable freckles that just drive me crazy," she said, touching his nose. Ron grinned and leaned over to her, thanking her quite properly.
_______________________________
Eve stormed out of Draco's room, but she didn't head off toward her room. What she had just witnessed with Draco had driven her absolutely mad, and she needed another form of comfort to calm her down. It had already been quite late, and when she stepped onto the grounds, all was surrounded by inky darkness, through which the stars shown like jewels. She breathed in the cool air fresh with the scent of trees. She felt much better, although she didn't know why. She walked deeper into the Forbidden Forest; any other student would have been fearful to step into it during broad daylight, but she went on as if she were walking in her garden. Her breath came out in smoky white clouds; she had never felt the forest so cold before. There was a chill that seemed to go through the skin, reaching the bones. It was a different kind of chill - different than the traditional cold of autumn. But she shrugged her shoulders and continued.
She walked for what was about half an hour. The only sound was the rustling of leaves from the wind and an occasional hoot from an owl. Finally she came into a clearing, where the moonlight bathed everything in a silvery glow.
A beautiful lake with a flowing waterfall on the right edge was glistening in the moonlight. If any muggle had seen it, it would have taken his or her breath away. The water in the lake didn't seem as if it were made of water; it was made of a silvery liquid, somewhat like mercury. Eve laid down by the edge and absentmindedly dipped her hand in the liquid, sighing. Despite the freezing air, the "water" was pleasantly warm, and felt almost like liquid silk. She obviously had been here before. She took off her shoes and dipped her feet in. The water warmed her further, and she took off her black robes. She sat absolutely still, listening to the night. "Mars is awfully bright tonight," she whispered, wondering where Firenze, the centaur, could be.
A rustling of the bushes cause her head to whip back. For some reason, she knew it wasn't Firenze. A large dark shadow was looming between the shrubs.
_______________________________________
Chapter Fourteen: The Plan Deepens
Wormtail walked into the room, the light from the fireplace being only a minor pollutant to the darkness. His silvery hand was glinting from the fire - its glint was reflected in his eyes: he had good news for his master.
"Yes, what is it, Wormtail?" came a high voice, which was more like the hiss of a snake-not remotely human.
"My lord, we have the Minister of Magic. Lucius Malfoy has him under the Imperius Curse this very moment."
"Excellent. I admit that at first I thought he wouldn't be up to the job; it would be too much of a danger to his seemingly honorable reputation."
The short, bald man had a smile on his rat-like face. " My Lord, from now on, it is unnecessary to keep up an honorable reputation."
"Yes, even an idiot like you can appreciate that, Wormtail. With the Minister of Magic, we know have full control of the dementors-they cannot refuse us now. Their first task will be to surround the school, so they can distract that fool Dumbledore from my presence. "
"We have Fudge, but what about Lucius's son?"
"He will be joining us soon."
"Good. Then we have everyone in our plan? Is it complete?"
"Not yet. But it will be - as soon as we have my daughter."
_________________________________________
Draco was lying on his bed, on his back, still fully clothed. He had asked his father when his death-eater initiations would begin, and his answer was due back soon. The trouble was, Draco wasn't even sure if he wanted to go through with them in the first place. But his father had made it crystal clear that he didn't have much of a choice; if he refused to help, a crucial part of the plan would be missing. Then there was only two directions that would lead to: they would torture him until he gave in - or until they would kill him. His own father wouldn't hesitate at torturing him, he was sure of that. To Lucius Malfoy, he was nothing but a commodity, a way to try and raise the damn family honor higher; and the Malfoy family seldom enjoyed being disappointed. Finally he saw his eagle owl swoop into his room, but instead of feeling relieved, he felt an increasing sense of dread: he would be forced to finally make a decision. Moreover, he felt sick to his stomach even imagining the horrendous things he would have to do to become a death- eater. When he asked his father what he had done during his initiations, he hadn't told him. He said it didn't matter because each person was assigned a specific task. Knowing his crucial role in Voldemort's plan, Draco was sure his task would be worse than others: he needed to prove his loyalty more than anyone else. His eagle owl hooted impatiently, and he rose up from bed, although with much hesitation. He took the letter, fed his owl a treat, and swooped out. The letter read:
Draco,
The Dark Lord will be appearing at the school soon, after the dementors, of course, to meet with his daughter. I presume that your relations with her are going well, as it is very crucial to our plan. After meeting her, he will meet you privately to begin your initiation. I regret to say that I won't be present; I have work to do. After the first step, you need to fulfill one task to become one of us and prove your loyalty - and ability - to go on with the plan. Your task is fairly simple, but will be very effective in instilling fear into the school: You must murder Severus Snape. He has betrayed us and is believes that he has acted as a spy for Dumbledore, but we know. He must be killed, to show what happens to those who are not loyal to the Dark Lord, and you are the one closest to him, not to mention that he trusts you. Send back your owl as soon as possible telling me how you want to accomplish this and how long it will take you. You must clear yourself of any other plans, even those involving the Potter boy, until you accomplish your task. I expect to be hearing from you soon. I expect even more that you will finally make me proud, boy. I do not want to regret having only one failure for an heir.
L.M.
As Draco finished reading this, his fingers vaguely loosened and the paper floated onto his desk. He became even more pale than usual. He felt his insides squirm as if a bucket of freezing ice water had been poured down his throat. He was staring into blank space with complete astonishment and his silvery eyes were widened as he whispered in horror, "Snape."
_________________________________
The next morning at breakfast Draco was acting no more like a zombie; he was walking to and from his classes as if he were in a daze. The initial shock of what he was expected to do had not fully come off him. How was he supposed to murder, in cold blood, his most favorite professor of seven years? With each passing year, he felt he could relate more and more to Snape. (Not counting his disgusting hair, of course), he thought with almost a smile. Was he going to end up like Snape one day? An ex- Death Eater, hated by the Dark Side and mistrusted by the other side, living alone, isolated, and in hatred of himself. That was not a prospect that appealed to him much. Yet becoming and remaining a Death Eater was equally repulsive. He only hoped that Eve would change things.
Thinking of Eve was painful. She had of course noticed his odd behavior, but he had distanced himself from all her efforts to comfort him. He could not possibly tell her what he was about to do. He could not tell anyone: he had to face this enormous burden completely alone, as he had always done in the past. The only good thing about the situation was the look on Potter's face whenever he would see Eve's concern for him. He knew he was stewing in jealousy, but he didn't need to, Draco thought grimly. Quidditch, fame, talent, bravery, even love --everything came so easily to Potter. His hate for him came not because he supported Mudbloods and Dumbledore and fought against Voldemort; it was because of the life he held, admired by all, but even more so, because he always seemed to know what to do - what was the RIGHT thing to do. It was almost second nature to him, to be likable. It was second nature for Draco, on the other hand, to be reviled. Only Snape had shown a somewhat liking toward him. He knew that Dumbledore and the rest of his teachers were suspicious of him. Even his father didn't like him much. But Harry was the one who outrightly rejected his hand of friendship seven years ago, and he hated him most because of that.
_________________________________________________
Meanwhile, spirits in Gryffindor tower were ironically raised. Fred and George were constantly throwing everyone in throes of laughter with their jokes and prank magical tricks, which had evolved from their original Canary Creams. Hermione, Harry, and Ron were happy at the prospect of Sirius's arrival, and the possibility of Lupin showing up. Harry tried to deny the nagging thought in the back of his head saying that Sirius's arrival might coincide with Voldemort's. Last time they both showed up, they had used the Forbidden Forest, and they both would possibly use it again. He had revealed his fears to Dumbledore of course, and he assured him he would be keeping his eyes open.
Suddenly he heard a scream from the boys' dormitories, which sounded horribly like Ron. He raced upstairs, bracing himself as to what he might be seeing. But as he saw Ron he couldn't help but double up and shake uncontrollably in spasms of laughter.
"I'm going to KILL Fred and George! Wait 'till I find them. No wands, I'm going to rip them apart with my bare hands!" He was shouting furiously.
And he had good reason. He was in a towel, dripping wet. His bright red hair had increased about five or six times its original size, resulting in a curly red afro about three feet tall which would have made the biggest disco enthusiast squirm. Harry couldn't stop laughing; he was on the floor, finding it difficult to breathe.
"They must have put in some sort of Engorgement Potion in my shampoo! I can't believe them!"
"Can't you fix it?" Harry asked, wiping tears from his eyes.
"No, I can't. Don't you think I already tried? And I can't go out in public to Madame Pomfrey looking like this! Stop laughing, will you? You're not helping, you know," he added at the end when Harry continued chuckling.
"Malfoy would have a field day if he ever saw you like this," he said.
"Well then we'd better make sure he doesn't."
Right on cue, Neville and Seamus walked in. "What happened? We thought we heard a scream," Neville said. But as soon as they saw Ron, they both burst into uproarious laughter, just like Harry. Ron sighed and rolled his eyes in frustration.
"Will you guys just try and figure out a way to help me get rid of this?" he cried in exasperation.
Harry said, amid smiles, "First let's figure out a way to get your head past the door."
___________________________________________
"Draco, I need to talk to you," a harsh voice came from Draco's door as it opened. He hastily stuffed his father's letter into a drawer.
"What's that?"
"Nothing," he muttered. Eve's eyes flashed in anger.
"What is it? Let me see it!"
"I said, its nothing. Nothing that concerns you, anyway. Just some family business."
Apparently his answer wasn't nearly satisfying. Eve's face was still twisted in anger. She looked almost frightening.
"Like HELL it doesn't concern me. First, your thoughts are nothing but a cloudy mystery. Then, out of nowhere, you act odd all day today, walking around as if in a daze, and now your getting secret letters. What are you hiding from me, Draco??"
"Look, if I was able to tell you, I would have already," he cried in frustration.
"Let me see that letter," she demanded.
"No!" he said, more as a means of stalling than as protection. His wand was working furiously under his desk.
"Let me see it!!" she repeated, and opened the drawer, grabbing the piece of parchment; it was totally bare. Her anger only increased.
"You erased it? Draco, TELL ME WHAT"S GOING ON!" He was silent. Eve continued, " How could you keep secrets from me, especially since you know what my father's like? Especially since.since..." her voice broke.
"Since what?"
"Since THIS," she said, and pulled up her left sleeve, brandishing her arm. On her forearm was, sure enough, the Dark Mark, burning as black as coal. "It's never been this clear before. It's burning like hell. What does this mean, Draco?"
Draco gulped, "All I can tell you is that it's not good."
Eve seemed to have calmed down somewhat, but it didn't reach her eyes. They seemed more green than ever before, but they were terrifying. She moved in closer to him, her nose inches from his face. She spoke in a chillingly calm voice.
" Draco, let me tell you. I am the LAST person you want to cross. If you keep something from me, you will regret it more than if you were a Death Eater who had betrayed my father." And with that, she left the room, leaving Draco quite shaken.
_____________________________________
Hermione was lost in a fit of giggles. "No, really, think it looks great," she sputtered.
"Will everyone stop laughing and help me? C'mon Herm, you're my only hope," Ron cried. His head was swaying to and fro. Apparently the weight of his afro was taking a toll on his neck. It swayed over dangerously, and Ron fell on his back. A fresh burst of laughter erupted from the room. He got up, furious. Hermione, seeing his expression and feeling sorry for him, took out her wand. In less than a minute his hair was back to its normal size, with a few tufts of curls only slightly out of place. He ran to a mirror and started fingering his hair.
"You boys are so much more vain than you make yourselves out to be," Hermione muttered. Then she looked at Ron as if she hadn't seen him properly until then. "Ooh, Ron, your arms. I like," she said, her brown eyes sparkling. Ron glanced at her and turned a deep shade of crimson. While waiting for Hermione to come, he had put on some pants, but he hadn't had a shirt on, as he couldn't get his head through any of them. Apparently Malfoy wasn't the only one who had been "working out." His long arms were no longer bony as they had been when he was younger, and to Hermione, his tall, lean body was starting the initial processes of going ga-ga. He even had freckles on his back, which in her opinion, were the most adorable things she had seen. She wondered where ELSE he had freckles she had never seen before. Ron was getting exceedingly embarrassed. He didn't even like walking around without a shirt in front of his own sister. But with that body, why in the hell is he so shy, Hermione wondered. He immediately put on a sleeveless undershirt, still red in the face. Harry looked at them knowingly.
"Guys, I think maybe we'd better leave," he said, gesturing to Dean and Seamus.
"Ohhh, alright," Seamus winked as they left the room. Ron ran his long fingers through his hair again, grinning sheepishly.
"Thanks, Herm. I couldn't even bear to have anybody else seeing my like that," he said. "Honestly, sometimes I don't know what Harry or I would do without you sometimes.''
"Well, you know you're going to have to thank me properly," she said, giggling, putting her arms around him.
"Hermione, you know you're too brilliant for me. I'm just an overgrown git. I don't have money or fame, or even that many talents. Why DID you pick me?"
"Because, you have a good heart," she said, a tenderness in her voice which melted him.
"So does Harry."
"But YOU love me in a way he doesn't," she whispered.
"And that's the difference?"
"I'm not sure. I know there's more than that. I just can't put it into words." Then she added, "Oh yeah, and you have those adorable freckles that just drive me crazy," she said, touching his nose. Ron grinned and leaned over to her, thanking her quite properly.
_______________________________
Eve stormed out of Draco's room, but she didn't head off toward her room. What she had just witnessed with Draco had driven her absolutely mad, and she needed another form of comfort to calm her down. It had already been quite late, and when she stepped onto the grounds, all was surrounded by inky darkness, through which the stars shown like jewels. She breathed in the cool air fresh with the scent of trees. She felt much better, although she didn't know why. She walked deeper into the Forbidden Forest; any other student would have been fearful to step into it during broad daylight, but she went on as if she were walking in her garden. Her breath came out in smoky white clouds; she had never felt the forest so cold before. There was a chill that seemed to go through the skin, reaching the bones. It was a different kind of chill - different than the traditional cold of autumn. But she shrugged her shoulders and continued.
She walked for what was about half an hour. The only sound was the rustling of leaves from the wind and an occasional hoot from an owl. Finally she came into a clearing, where the moonlight bathed everything in a silvery glow.
A beautiful lake with a flowing waterfall on the right edge was glistening in the moonlight. If any muggle had seen it, it would have taken his or her breath away. The water in the lake didn't seem as if it were made of water; it was made of a silvery liquid, somewhat like mercury. Eve laid down by the edge and absentmindedly dipped her hand in the liquid, sighing. Despite the freezing air, the "water" was pleasantly warm, and felt almost like liquid silk. She obviously had been here before. She took off her shoes and dipped her feet in. The water warmed her further, and she took off her black robes. She sat absolutely still, listening to the night. "Mars is awfully bright tonight," she whispered, wondering where Firenze, the centaur, could be.
A rustling of the bushes cause her head to whip back. For some reason, she knew it wasn't Firenze. A large dark shadow was looming between the shrubs.
_______________________________________