A/N: I know it's been forever since I've updated but here it is. I'm a learning girl realize and school wipes out my creative bug. But after a tiny vacation, I'm back in business.

Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing; it really means a lot to me.

Midnight Primrose Riddle: You have been so supportive this entire time and are such a great writer so I appreciate it a lot. AND FOR YOU POOR SOULS WHO DON'T KNOW--- READ "INITIATION" IT'S GREAT!!!

Alex: You're foxy and you rock my world! I STRONGLY RECOMMEND READING "THE WRONG SORT" BY Dragon Mage. ALSO. WHILE YOU'RE CHECKING HER OUT, TAKE A LOOK AT "AUCTION OFF MY HEART" (our collaboration).!!!! -----

Harry's chest rose and fell steadily as slept. He breathed normally again, no rasping tonight. Kristin sat attentively in the chair next to his bed, his hand in hers. The stars shone brightly outside; she wondered what time it was, knowing it must be late. She leaned her head back in relief and closed her eyes, taking in the sights of her eyelids for the first time since she woke up that morning.

Frantically, her eyes darted open. Harry was groaning in pain, awake from his much needed slumber. But it wasn't his broken ribs or dislocated collarbone; Harry was rubbing his scar, writhing in agony, while Kristin screamed, unsure of what was going on.

Madam Pomfrey rushed into the room, followed closely by Snape and the Headmaster. They pushed Kristin out of the room frantically and the nurse and the two teachers struggled to figure out what was happening. As soon as Kristin left the screams stopped, leaving her in the hall in an awful dark silence, marked only by her stifled sobs.

"Kristin, what's going on? Is Harry going to be alright?" Kristin turned to see Hermione walking towards her in concern. Hermione put her hand on Kristin's arm to comfort and Kristin fell into her arms sobbing hysterically. "Sweetheart, what happened?"

"I don't know," she choked out. "There was something wrong with his head and he was in a lot of pain and they kicked me out and they won't tell me what's going on and I asked a lot but they didn't care."

"His scar?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Kristin nodded weakly.

"What does it mean?"

"You-know-who is around, lurking somewhere, no doubt; that little rat, the slimy bastard. I wish he would just go the fuck away. He won't win." Hermione ranted.

Kristin simply looked at her confused. His scar could tell when her father was around. She wondered if he was in this much pain while running down that hall. Hermione was right. Harry could always triumph over Voldemort; Voldemort had the Dark Arts, but Harry had something more. He had a good soul and a conscience and people who cared about him and morals and everything else that made a wizard good rather than evil; and good always triumphs over evil. Right? Just like the story books.

"Maybe the better question is: will you be alright?" Hermione asked her. "Go to your house, kiddo, Harry will be fine. Get some rest. It's been a long day for all of us."

Hermione and Kristin walked down the halls in silence, Hermione making sure Kristin got to bed before proceeding to her room and falling fast asleep.

-----

Kristin rolled slightly in bed about to settle back to sleep when she felt someone standing over. She opened her eyes slightly to see who it could be. Blaise hovered over her, aiming her wand menacingly in Kristin's direction.

"I've worked long and hard to make Draco mine," she growled, "and then you come in and take him away from me. That's not how it works here, Kristin. I don't know about the schools you've been at before, though I've heard there were many, but that's not how I'm letting it happen, not this time."

"That's not what's happening, Blaise. Not at all, Draco and I are just friends, or were until I started going out with Harry. That's right, Harry, not Draco."

"Of course, never Draco," a low voice drawled from beside her window, masked by the green and silver curtains blowing in the Indian summer breeze, but she didn't need to see the stunning gray eyes or sterling blonde hair to know the man whose bitterness cut her deeper than any spell Blaise would ever many to pull off.

"It's never Draco who gets the girl," he continued, "never Draco who finds the love of his life who loves him back, never Draco that gets a girl to worry about him constantly," his voice became loud and agitated with pain quivering through it " never Draco who a girl would fuck on the roof in the moonlight and risk her life for and go against everything her father ever stood for and fall in love with. Because Draco isn't the hero and Draco is the wise one or the courageous one or the one who saves the day. And yet, Kristin," Draco's voice receded and withdrew, became reserved and gentle. "here I am, ready to-"

"Draco, shut up," Blaise shrieked. "You don't know what the hell you are talking about."

"I know exactly what I'm talking about. I love her, Blaise, not you. That's not her choice and you're making a big mist-"

"Cruciatus" Blaise roared as a blinding stream of light sped from the tip of her wand. Kristin crumpled as pain seized her and threw her into spasms.

"Kristin!" Draco cried, sprinting towards her in terror.

"Don't even think about it!" Blaise turned her wand on him as he watched Kristin's body shake and seizure. "Take one more step and you're next. And this time I may not be as gracious as I was with Kristin."

"Please, Blaise," he pleaded, tears leaving their trails along his cheeks.

He pleas were answered. The cool breeze rustling the curtains became a strong cold gust of wind and Blaise was thrown to the back wall and knocked unconscious. The wind died again. Draco cautiously approached the girl and pried the wand from her hand, at once cracking it in half across his knee and tossing it out the window of Kristin's room. He then rushed to Kristin's side, struggling to calm her chaotic form. She was screaming and bawling in pain as the curse fought within her toned beautiful figure.

He held her close until the seizures had left her and she collapsed into a deep sleep. Holding her body, he realized that the ordeal that had taken place should have waked everyone else in the room with her. He heard the scum on the floor give a small moan as she began to regain consciousness and put her under a sleeping spell to keep her out of his hair for a while. To answer his question, Draco paced the room looking around at the girls sleeping in the beds. They seemed to be soundly sleeping but something was different, just not quite right. He stepped closer touching the arm of Kristin's roommate.

Cold.

Dead cold.

The bitch killed them. His mind raced. She would do it again. Kristin wasn't safe. No one was. Not until Blaise got her way. He had to tell someone.

Kristin's breathing was beginning to regulate itself, still shallow, but better. He wrapped her limp, nearly lifeless body in a fleece muggle blanket to keep up her body heat and carried her into the hall. Despite the dead weight in his arms, he ran. He ran through the night. He ran, not caring about how much trouble he would be in for being out at night. He ran, not caring that a large tabby cat was watching him and began scampering away to tell her owner of mischief in Hogwarts. He ran until he was stopped in his track.

Filch stood before him; Mrs. Norris at his side, purring contentedly.

"Out after dark, Mr. Malfoy," his voice oozed. "I'm sure McGonagall will have fun with you. Follow me."

Draco tilted his tear-stained face to the ground in defeat, and then realized, he would tell her. He found someone to hear his story and who could stop Blaise. He couldn't. Well, he could but he like Hogwarts and feared Azkaban, so he would keep these solutions to himself.

"Wait here," Filch instructed when they had reached McGonagall's office. He walked to get the headmistress while Mrs. Norris kept watch over Draco and his consignment. Kristin moaned slightly and shifted in his arms as Draco pushed the sleek black hair away from her eyes. His eyes filled with tears again as he recalled the story he was about to tell. He still didn't quite understand what had actually happened to Blaise in that room. 'Most likely it was Voldemort, I know if someone put one of the Unforgivables on my daughter I would smite them down, too. Good thing he didn't kill her,' he sighed, 'that would have been 'my' hide.'

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall's stern but gentle voice interrupted, "would you care to explain yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied quietly, looking up at her. He told his story, caressing Kristin's face as she slept soundly and stopping to cry sporadically.

"Oh, you poor dear," she replied quietly, shocked, "You take Kristin and yourself to the infirmary. Dumbledore and I will take care of everything else. Get some rest. I don't want you to stay up all night with Miss Riddle, she'll be alright."

"You said it." Draco was stunned.

"Said what?" He had caught her off guard.

"You called her Miss Riddle. No one calls her that, understandably."

"Did I? Wait, you know about that?"

"Yes, ma'am, she stayed with us for a while after her father died. She doesn't remember me, but we were best friends then, too," he reminisced. "Good night, ma'am."

"Sweet dreams, Mr. Malfoy."

The professor watched Draco carry the still sleeping girl out the door and gave them time to get down the hall before collapsing into her chair in tears. One of her own students killing other students; the situation was unbelievable. She ran to Dumbledore's chambers to awake him with a rap on the door.

"Yes," he replied as he opened the door sleepily.

"You must come with me, Albus. There is a tragedy we must attend to."