Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Author's Notes: I would like to make it clear now that I do NOT speak French. I am using a dictionary/translator on my computer, so I'm aware it won't be perfect. If you do speak French, I would like to apologize now for any slaughtering of the language I may have inadvertently caused. Otherwise, what do you care, right? On to the story! Please review!

French translations: ((example))

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Blaise couldn't remember the first time that he'd met Draco. True, wizards could remember much farther back than muggles, but he and Draco had been together almost constantly from the day they were born. And ever since, until Hogwarts at least, they'd spent half a year at Malfoy Manor, and half a year at Tenebre Stella, the Zabini estate in Italy, which had been their House seat for millennia, much as the Manor had been for the Malfoy's.

They were together for every broom accident, every failed spell, every punishment, every swing of depression and joy. They were best friends, closer than brothers, and coming to Hogwarts hadn't changed a thing. Their fathers had made sure they'd always had their own set of rooms, but they'd done most of the enchantments themselves, and it had started out with two king-size beds instead of the one enormous bed they had at present. That hadn't changed until their fifth year, and he still remembered that day clearly.

They'd been going over the last spell-work sent from home, which most other students wouldn't even be reading about until the second year of University, and many more that no 'respectable' wizard would dream of messing with in the first place. Blaise had been so nervous, which was new to him, because he'd been very afraid that he was about to lose his best friend. He'd known that Draco had noticed him acting strangely, and he'd also known that Draco wouldn't let it go for another day without saying something. And he'd been right. As soon as they were done, Draco had turned to him.

"Spit it out, Blaise. What's been up with you the last few weeks? Did I do something?" He'd asked, his silver eyes doing what they only did around Blaise; showing just how worried and concerned he was. And Blaise had snapped.

"Yes!" He'd shouted, slamming his fist into the table. Draco, unflinchable, unmovable Draco had jumped, shock and pain in his beloved eyes.

"W-What?" Draco had asked, his ebony wand falling from his fingers and rolling across the marble floor. They never snapped at each other. Oh, they argued with one another like everyone else, but they never yelled. "What did I do?"

"Nothing! It's just...It's just you!" Blaise had exclaimed before really thinking about what he was saying.

He'd immediately known it was the wrong thing as something had happened that had never before occurred when it was just the two of them. All emotion was instantly wiped clean from Draco's eyes and expression, and the mind link that they'd shared since they could speak was gone. In a move that had left Blaise staggering and gasping, Draco had completely shut down his end of it and Blaise had felt so empty that he'd wanted to scream. Draco had stood swiftly, his eyes blank and dead, and Blaise had reached for him blindly.

"No, Dray, don't go. S'il vous plait." He'd practically begged when his fist wrapped around the sleeve of Draco's velvet robe. ((Please))

His friend had frozen, and when he'd spoken, his voice was distant, hard, and it nearly broke something inside of Blaise to know how much pain he'd caused his best friend with a single sentence. Because although anyone else would have cowered and slunk away at Draco's icy tone and frosty eyes, Blaise could read the tension in his body, the added tightness around his blood-red lips. He knew then, that no matter what, he would finally tell Draco what had been wrong with him, why he'd been so distant and strange. He could only hope that his friend didn't hate him when he was done.

"And why shouldn't I leave?" Draco had asked, his voice giving away nothing. "So I can watch you as you once again try your damnedest to stay away from me? Do I really disgust you that much? Or was it so you could explain in detail all of my numerous faults, so that perhaps I might be able to figure out how I managed to fuck even this up?"

"Disgust me?" Blaise had questioned, thrown off at the very (inconceivable) idea. "No! And no, Dray, I swear you haven't fucked anything up!" Blaise had said hurriedly, while the thought that Draco had blamed himself for the last few weeks had made him feel as though his skin was being peeled off. Slowly.

"Then what is it!?" Draco had finally exploded, and relief had washed through Blaise temporarily as he'd seen heat in his friend's gaze once more, instead of that chilling darkness. Draco's next words, however, had knocked away any relief that Blaise had found.

"What has made you stop loving me?"

The world must have stopped in those few moments, as he could do nothing but stare at Draco in shocked disbelief. Not love him anymore? Fucking impossible. No, he could never stop loving this vision of glacial perfection. And to think that he had made Draco believe something so ghastly and so far from the truth was nauseating. Because if the reverse were true, he himself would be...broken. That seemed to be the only word that came close to fitting.

"Stop...Stop loving you?" Blaise had finally choked out, grabbing Draco's freezing hands in his own and slipping off the couch to the floor. "No, Dray, I could never, ever stop loving you. The problem is that I love you too much." He had whispered, and Draco's eyes had widened.

"What? What do you mean?" Draco had asked, sinking to his knees beside Blaise and looking his other half in the eyes.

"Gods, Draco...I-I don't want you to hate me."

"Hate you?" Draco had asked, his face full of disbelief, much as Blaise supposed his own must have looked a moments before. "How on earth could I ever possibly hate you, mon frère?" ((my brother))

"Because...Because I do love you, Dray. I'm in love with you." Blaise had murmured, dropping his eyes to the floor, and for the first time in his life, he was truly terrified.

Seconds later, when a sinfully soft pair of frosty lips had descended on his, he'd thought he was hallucinating. His own lips, thank the gods, had reacted on their own, eagerly returning the kiss that meant so much more than any other and giving his addled brain time to catch up. Liquid heat had pumped through his veins before Draco's frostiness had crept in, and he'd felt alive. His entire world had crashed down around him in the space of two heartbeats, and rebuilt itself into something infinitely better just as quickly. When Draco had pulled away, his cheeks had been flushed a light pink, and Blaise had felt the aroused heat staining his own pale cheeks.

"Sometimes you worry too much, mon âme." Draco had whispered, his permanently chilled breath ghosting over Blaise's flesh. "It hurts me to think you did not believe that you could tell me without gaining my hate, but I understand. I didn't know how to tell you either, you know. But is it really that surprising? It seems almost natural that things should move this way." He'd said, his words burning into Blaise's mind, and his hand tangling in his long, raven hair. ((my soul))

"Yes." Blaise had hissed as Draco's lips found his neck and his own hand had snaked down to clutch Draco's hip. "Natural. Forgive me, cher un." ((dear one))

"Always." Draco had breathed against his ear, sending dark, sensuous shivers down his spine. "When have I ever been able to deny you anything?" He'd asked, and then bit Blaise's throat hard enough to leave a mark and make him moan.

His fingers had dug harder into Draco's hips as he had pulled him closer against his body, their robes pooling on the floor around them. Their lips had met once again, repressed passion nearly overwhelming them. Draco smelt of jasmine and tasted fresh, like the first snowflakes of the season falling on your tongue. What was naturally cold had heated up quickly under Blaise's mouth and hands until it was nearly scorching. And yes, in a very distant portion of his brain, Blaise had noted that it was natural, yet new and exciting and earth-shattering at the same time. The bone-jarring sense of completeness had lifted as Draco had pulled away breathlessly.

"Fucking shit." He'd whispered. "We shouldn't have waited so long." Blaise couldn't have agreed more.

And now, two years later, he sat on their one huge bed, watching his lover pace back and forth across the thick, black rug. Draco's silver hair swayed around his lithe figure, which was clad only in a pair of baggy satin pajama pants, as was normal for them both when within the walls of Slytherin House. He stalked from wall to wall with an inborn, feline grace that made the muscles just under his skin move seductively, and had a delicious tingling racing over Blaise's skin, which usually occurred when Draco was involved.

"Quit wearing a hole in the rug, love. You know how rare black yeti fur is." Blaise said lightly. Draco paused, shooting him an almost-apologetic look, and feebly fluffed the rug with his toe before pouncing on the bed. And, quite coincidentally, right on top of Blaise. Between one blink and the next, Blaise had a smirking Draco sitting on him, who had also managed to trap his hands above his head.

"What should I be doing then, beau?" Draco asked huskily, his icy breath brushing over Blaise's lips and making him grind his hips upwards. Draco hissed, his grip tightening, and Blaise caught a flash of familiar fangs from between his love's rosy lips. ((beautiful))

"Tense, mon âme?" Blaise asked breathlessly, running his tongue over the suddenly sharp canines in his own mouth.

"Every time I'm near you." Draco replied a second before he struck, his fangs sinking home and causing Blaise to scream.

Ecstasy shot through every cell of his body, dragging scream after scream from his throat before his own fangs sunk into a pale neck, driven more by instinct than anything else since he could barely form a coherent thought. Warm, yet somehow still chilling, blood poured down his throat, pumping power, love and ecstasy into his very soul. Draco's nails dug into his wrists, the pain almost sending him over the edge, just like the bastard knew it would.

But Draco's hands fell away; his nails trailing sharply down Blaise's neck and shoulders, while Blaise brought his own hands to Draco's back, neither breaking contact. They ground their erections together simultaneously, lightning shooting through them both. They threw their mind link open at the same time that Draco drug suddenly razor-sharp nails over Blaise's chest, and Blaise raked his own down Draco's back.

The mixture of intensely doubled pleasure and vicious, delicious pain sent them both over the edge, their mouths leaving each other's alabaster skin, feral screams ripped from their throats with their release. Neither moved for a long moment, their breathing ragged and uneven, tremors and shivers making themselves felt through their lethargic, sated state. They lazily licked the stray blood seeping from their freshly inflicted wounds, content and almost purring.

The skin on throats and chest and back healed immediately under their familiar ministrations, and they would have lain together for a while yet had a low, appreciative laugh not made their heads snap around. They hadn't detected anyone through their still-spinning senses, but they knew who they would see, because a month ago they had triggered her into their personal wards. She'd asked why it was necessary since she'd made it in undetected (mostly) when in Blaise's body. They'd informed her that she hadn't been undetected since she'd stepped foot over the threshold of Slytherin.

Severus had known immediately when someone unauthorized crossed the House's main wards, but had been in Hogsmeade when the ring alerted him. And it had been Blaise who'd had his and Draco's ring on that day, and he'd known too, which is why he'd left the study group early. They'd had a second ring made after that and now they each wore one at all times. The only reason his and Draco's wards hadn't mangled her before was because the nasty ones had been down for two hours while Dumbledore did his weekly scan of the castle. She'd actually been very, very lucky.

Slytherins trusted few, but they trusted her. It had taken a month and a night of mind-melding, which was her idea, but there were no more doubts between them. Now she stood in the archway, a very Slytherin smirk on her face as she walked towards them. They couldn't help but watch the way her hips swayed, the way her crimson curls framed her perfectly, and the way her charcoal eyes shone with a smoky pride and arrogance she had only recently begun to acquire. She possessed a natural grace, but it was intensified by the newfound assurance in her step.

"What an absolutely thrilling welcome. Please tell me you don't greet everyone like that."

"Never, darling." Draco replied, sliding off of Blaise and intertwining their fingers. A wave of his hand, and they were clean and unruffled once more.

"Hmph." She huffed, her eyes twinkling. "Well, are you two ready?"

"Ready for what?" Blaise asked, deliberately goading her as he and Draco stood. Her eyes flashed and he smirked.

"You know damn good and well 'what'! It's time we all discussed this like civil human beings." She said.

"Yes, but we're not really human, are we?" Draco asked as he began elaborately braiding the front of Blaise's hair, twining in silver ribbons among the ebony strands.

"No." She agreed after a moment. "But we'll try to save that for last."

"Of course, mon amour." Blaise said as Draco finished his braids and he began Draco's, his fingers moving in a blur over the strands. They were done in no time, not a single silver wisp out of place, the green ribbons perfect, and Blaise nodded his satisfaction. ((my love))

"You know," Virginia said, and their eyes flashed back to her. "For two pampered, lazy bastards you can move awfully quickly when you want to."

"One of the perks of our non-human status." Draco said nonchalantly, heading towards the huge walk-in closet.

He came back with his arms full of clothes, which he spread out on the bed. They each changed quickly, eyes roaming over familiar white flesh as it was exposed. They managed (barely) to keep their hands to themselves, and only because they were almost late for the talk Virginia insisted they have with the stupid Gryffindors. It appeared that Draco had chosen identical but opposite outfits for himself and Blaise.

The baggy pants he'd gotten for himself were dark green, the chains silver, and the long-sleeved fishnet shirt was black, trailing down to his equally black nails. Blaise's outfit was the same, except the pants were black and the shirt green. Form-fitting robes, which hung open, were slipped on next; the silk dyed in dark, shadowed swirls of green and black.

Last were the knee-high dragonhide boots, which had soft, soundless soles that made not a whisper over stone or marble when worn on a skilled foot. They looked to Virginia once more, and sucked in simultaneous breaths. She was gorgeous. For her half-birthday three weeks ago (it seemed a good enough occasion), they had bought her an entire new tailor-fitted wardrobe, most of which she kept in their rooms since that's where she spent the majority of her time.

Draco had picked out tight, black velvet leggings that disappeared into boots that matched theirs, along with a blood-red shirt that hugged her like a second skin and a forest green robe that fit her perfectly. The sleeves of the silk robe billowed over her hands, much as their fishnet sleeves nearly covered their own. Her fiery ringlets fell softly around her face to end at her waist, and she was absolutely beautiful.

"You look lovely, darling." Draco said, expressing Blaise's thoughts perfectly, as usual. Only a hint of red dusted her cheeks. It was taking more to make her blush now then it had two months ago.

"Are we ready, then?" She asked, her eyes raking over them.

"Yes." Blaise replied simply, taking one of her arms as Draco took the other.

They slid their wands into their sleeves, where a whispered word would drop them into their hands instantly. They grabbed their Invisibility Veil, a highly-upgraded version of the Invisibility Cloak, and covered themselves. They hadn't gone public with their relationship yet, and wouldn't until after this long-awaited conversation, whether the results ended up good or bad. Virginia had wanted to at least try to smooth things over before they told everyone.

They reached Gryffindor Tower without any problems, the portrait not even raising an eyebrow when a disembodied voice gave the password, and they took off the veil once they were inside. At which, of course, everything went absolutely silent as the Gryffindors gaped unanimously. It took every bit of self control they possessed not to laugh outright at the looks of stunned shock they were given. The Golden Trio stood, their faces grim as they walked towards the green-clad figures waiting by the portrait hole. Neither Draco nor Blaise could keep the disgusted sneers off their faces as the golden three drew up close to them.

"We can go to my rooms to talk." Hermione suggested, fingering her Head Girl badge almost unconsciously. They did nothing more than nod slightly as she turned to lead them up the stairs, ignoring the Gryffindors' looks of fear-tinged disbelief.

"This one." Hermione announced when they reached the top landing.

She opened an oak door, motioning everyone inside. The Gryffindors sat, but Blaise and Draco took one look at the dusty, orangish-red, moth-eaten upholstery and their lips twisted, noses scrunching as if they'd smelt something foul. They promptly declined and opted to stand stiffly behind Virginia's chair, looking around at the bright, red and gold room and flinching inwardly.

"Okay..." Hermione finally started, breaking the charged, icy silence. "Where do you want to start, Ginny?"

"Well, you already know that we were just messing with you that first night. I told you I would get you back, Ron." She sent a momentary glare at her brother. "But we're not fucking around anymore."

"And what, exactly, does that mean?" Weasley demanded.

"It means that we're...together, and it's staying that way." Virginia said after a moment. Her brother exploded out of his chair.

"No!" He exclaimed, and Draco and Blaise both snarled. Virginia looked at them warily before shooting her brother a warning glance.

"Yes, Ron, and you can't change that. You can accept it, or at least ignore it, and we can try to explain a few things. Civilly." She stressed the last, glaring, and he squirmed, recognizing their mum's 'Look' anywhere, and he immediately sat back down.

"Alright, so do you have any direct questions or comments?" Virginia asked cautiously, wanting it all to be over with.

"Yes!" Her brother said at once. "They're bloody fucking Dark wizards! What in Tartarus are you thinking getting involved with them!?" He asked, and Virginia fidgeted while Draco and Blaise interwove their fingers, gripping hard enough to break the bones of a normal human.

"Ummm, yes, about that..." Virginia trailed off, looking around the room as if wishing for something to save her from this conversation. The conversation you wanted, she reminded herself, annoyed.

"Itcan'treallybehelped." She blurted out all at once. The trio's eyes widened to the size of a house elf's, and she just knew that the Slytherins behind her were smirking like cats who had recently finished torturing and beheading the canary.

"What?!?" Ron finally shouted, his face rapidly approaching that particular shade of purple that only he could manage.

"Oh, you heard me." Virginia said with a sigh. She'd hoped they would get to this later. "You can't change a tiger's stripes, or something like that." Ron stalked up to stand in front of her.

"You can't go out with one Dark wizard, let alone two!"

"Merlin, Ron, it's not like they're going to join Voldemort or anything. It's just a different type of knowledge." Virginia replied calmly. Ron goggled.

"How can you say that!? Look at your first year!"

"Yes, but they wouldn't..." She paused again, having promised earlier not to lie. She thought for a minute and started again. "Okay, well, they wouldn't give a cursed diary to an eleven year old girl, at any rate. And if it had to do with Voldemort, probably not at all." She was pretty certain of that, at least. It didn't seem to appease her brother in the slightest, though.

"Bloody ridiculous." He mumbled under his breath. "Been bloody touched in the head, if you ask me...Hey!" He turned to Blaise, who was closest to him. "You bastards! You've fucked with her head haven't you? How dare..."

And without another word, he swung, hitting Blaise square in the jaw. Blaise's head simply snapped around, and he turned back with furious, crackling eyes. Before anyone could so much as breathe, Draco moved in a silver blur, backhanding Ron ten feet into a bookcase, his mercury eyes frosted over and flashing with a bone-numbing, icy rage that spread out from him in widening rings and instantly coated the room in blinding, freezing whiteness.

Draco hissed; a low, chilling sound full of dark ferocity underlain with a primal warning and just a twinge of madness. Blaise quickly forgot his own fury in favor of stopping the death he saw promised in his lover's enraged eyes. He stepped forward immediately, raising an arm covered in tiny sparks of electricity, and grabbed Draco's shoulder right before a hand that had suddenly grown claws tore out the Weasel's throat.

Draco relaxed at his touch instantly, and Blaise turned him around, stroking his hair and murmuring softly in French as he came down from the blood rage, which all of their kind held within themselves. Add that to the elemental fury, and, well...It's very fortunate that there are few things that can set them both off at once.

"Ennervate." Hermione said shakily from where the Weasel was propped unconscious against the bookshelves. His eyes popped open and he groaned. "Lay still. Two of your ribs are broken and you have a concussion." She did a few quick bone-knitting spells and a couple more minor healing chants before she helped him sit all the way up.

"What happened?" He asked groggily.

"I'm not really sure." Hermione replied, her face white and tight-lipped with fear.

"He managed to send Draco into a murderous rage within five minutes, that's what!" Virginia exclaimed indignantly. Draco pulled away from Blaise's soothing embrace; his eyes thawed but still flashing in anger, and ran his hands over Blaise's once-again discharged arms before turning to the others.

"What the hell was that?" Harry questioned, speaking up for the first time as warmth began creeping back into the room.

"Gee, and here I was thanking the gods that you'd forgotten how to speak." Draco snapped sarcastically, while Blaise's hand tangled in his hair and pressed against his lower back. Draco leaned into the touch, a nasty sneer on his face as Ron slowly rose to his feet, obviously in pain.

"You're lucky he didn't want to kill you with the first blow." Blaise said scathingly as Ron whined and moaned, leaning all over the mudblood.

"What the fuck are you?" Ron spat angrily.

"Elementals." Hermione breathed, helping him into a chair. "I think." She added once she'd sat back down in her chair. Virginia looked up at Blaise and Draco.

"Do you want to or should I?" She asked, and Draco nodded at her to explain.

"They're Elementals, yes, but more, too. How much do you know about their families?" She asked, directing her question at Hermione.

"They're old," Hermione started hesitantly, dredging up everything she'd read on them. "So old that history has forgotten just when their Houses were founded, and some say they have always been here, their founders among the first wizards to Awaken. Noble and pureblooded to the last cell, they hold numerous titles. They're both famous for the number of shapeshifters born to their lines, not Animagi, mind you, but shapeshifters, and since Hogwarts has been founded, every member born to either family has been a Slytherin, although they haven't always necessarily married within Slytherin." Her voice grew stronger as she warmed to her topic.

"They're both reported to be closely related to Salazar Slytherin, by blood, and to have intermarried between themselves numerous times over the passing millennia, but not for nearly two centuries. Never has a Squib been born to their ranks, the magic in their blood always winning out. They have only been referred to as 'Dark' families since the Grindenwald war, although they have always studied and practiced the Dark Arts. Both families are huge, spanning the globe, as are their corporations, although the main branch of both families has only one heir each. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini."

"When I called you a know-it-all, Granger, I didn't think you knew about us." Draco said with a smirk. Hermione's cheeks turned slightly pink, and she turned away to face Virginia.

"Care to fill in the gaps?"

"Do you swear not a word of this leaves this room?" Virginia asked warily.

"Yes." The Gryffindors said in unison.

Alright," Virginia started. "Like I said before, they're Elementals. The first to be born to any line in almost a millennium. Draco is of Ice and all things Winter, while Blaise is of Lightning and all that falls under Electricity. Whereas a normal wizard is only a shell for their magic, Elementals are magic, as I'm sure you know. But they are not just Elementals. They do have the shapeshifting ability of their lineage, but they are more than that, too. And here's where you have to promise not to flip out." At the Gryffindors' nods, she continued speaking.

"I'd really feel better if you would restrain my brother, Hermione." She said, looking seriously at the Head Girl. Ron began to protest, but Hermione whipped out her wand and bound him to the chair before he could move. After he quit struggling, Virginia went on with her explanation.

"The summer after their fifth year, they visited Romania because of a renowned tattoo artist there. After getting their work done, they decided to stay for a few weeks. They met one of the Ancients one night while hunting in the woods." The trio's eyes widened impossibly at the mention of an Ancient. "They were offered the Blood." No sooner had the words left her mouth before Ron started cursing, Harry went pale, and Hermione half rose out of her chair in an attempt to back away.

"As you should know by now," Virginia continued, "an Ancient is not just any vampire. They are the Twelve First-Walkers, the oldest and strongest beings on the planet. They do not interfere in the human world except rarely, and this one had had a vision. As you can probably guess from that, it was Neithotep who came to them. When they accepted her blood, she did not just turn them, even though her blood alone would have made them stronger than any other of their kind but for the Twelve themselves." Virginia took a deep breath.

"She let each of them drain her, then took it all back and repeated the process for the duration of the entire night."

Ron became absolutely silent at this, and Hermione and Harry gasped. They knew as well as anyone their age that an Ancient doing something like that (though it hasn't been done in millennia) is tantamount to them equaling the vampling's strength nearly to their own. The trio ran glazed eyes over the two arrogant young men standing in front of them, hardly able to believe or comprehend the amount of power that must be running through their veins. Correction, through their immortal veins.

"She did leave a very small part of them human, so that they would be free to walk in the daylight without the sickness and the seizures it causes their kind, and so that taking blood isn't necessary quite as often. The Blood increased their Elemental magic dramatically, and allowed them the ability to control vast amounts of wandless magic, to the point where they don't really need their wands at all anymore, and using them has become more like habit than anything else. I won't tell you what the Lady told them of her vision, but I will tell you one thing she said, because it's relevant that you know."

"Well?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. "What is it?"

"She told them to pay attention to their dreams, and to look for one like they had been. They came back that year and did start having strange dreams, as did I. They haunted all three of us last year and this last summer, and we only realized that I was having the same dreams they were when I snuck into Slytherin. And while I found answers, they just gained more questions. Because they had found the second part of what the Lady spoke of, they had found 'someone like they had been'. When they told me, I didn't believe them at first, but I do now. They found me. I'm an Elemental of Flame and all things Fire." She said, and held out her hand, palm up.

A small spark appeared above her outstretched hand, and quickly grew into a bright, burning ball of red-hot heat. The Gryffindors stared, their jaws slack, as they had been most of the time they'd been in the room. Virginia grew slightly nervous when they said nothing, nor even so much as blinked, but she couldn't help grinning when Draco leaned over and blew on her hand, instantly freezing the small sphere of flames. The ice ball fell into her palm, burning cold, and she would have dropped it had he not caught it. He then, of course, made a wonderful show of licking it as though it were a sinful ice cream cone. If ice cream cones could even be sinful. Needless to say, he definitely made it seem possible.

"Well?" She finally asked, seeing that the Gryffindors' eyes had avidly followed the fire-turned-ice ball before slowly refocusing on her.

"Well...Ummm...Err." That was Harry, naturally.

"It's a bloody shame that stupidity isn't painful." Draco sneered, causing Blaise to snicker.

"You're such a prick, Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed. "You act like you're so perfect! What makes you think you're God, huh!?"

"When did I realize I was God?" Draco asked mockingly. "Well, I was praying and I suddenly realized I was talking to myself."

"Yeah." Blaise agreed, a slow, seductive smirk crossing his full lips, his hands dropping to Draco's hips. "He's definitely my God. When I pray, it's usually something like 'Oh my God, Draco! Yes!'" He moaned breathlessly, grinding his hips against Draco from behind. The trio's eyes nearly bugged out of their heads, and Virginia couldn't help giggling. They looked back and forth, from the insanely snickering Slytherins to Virginia, and Ron and Hermione shook their heads. Harry, however, still looked heavily shaken up.

"Why so shocked, Harry?" Virginia asked curiously.

"They're both...boys!" He said hurriedly, his eyes panicky, and this caused the Slytherins to start laughing so hard that they had to sink to their knees or fall over. They held on to each other, laughing hysterically, and Harry scowled darkly.

"So?" Ron asked, surprising everyone since it was almost like siding with the Slytherins.

"You don't care that they're both male?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Prejudiced, are you, Potter?" Blaise asked between laughs. "You talk shit about us for not liking mudbloods, but here you are, a closet homophobe! H-Hypocrite." He choked on the last, laughing so hard that Virginia wondered how either of them could breathe. Ron glared at them before turning (as much as could, considering he was still bound to the chair) to Harry.

"It's not anything new, mate." Ron informed him. "Being gay is as common in our world as being straight. Actually, bisexuality outnumbers both of them. It's always been that way. I thought you knew that." Harry shook his head.

"No, no I didn't."

"Well, you do now, mate." Ron replied. "But back to business. Ginny, you can't be 'involved' with two 'almost' corpses!"

"Corpses!?" Draco and Blaise shot to their feet, their laughter gone in seconds.

"They're not 'corpses', Ron, now will you please quit provoking them before someone," she shot a look towards Draco and Blaise, "does something...regrettable?"

"Corpses!" Draco exclaimed again under his breath. "This from Weasley, the unofficial poster boy for birth-control, who looks like a kneazle just hacked up a hairball on his head. Bloody fucking brilliant."

"Fuck off, Malfoy!"

"Only if you help, Weasley." Draco crooned viciously, grabbing his cock suggestively and leering at the Gryffindor. Ron blanched as Draco stepped towards him, looking every bit like a hungry predator.

"Leave him alone, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, stepping in front of Ron. Draco smirked evilly.

"I do believe you're catching on quite quickly to this bisexual business. Jealous, Harry? Don't worry; I'd rather gnaw off my own hands that lay a finger on your precious mate." He stressed the last word, and Harry and Ron both blushed to the roots of their hair.

"If you two are going to be with Ginny, don't you think you could at least try to be nice?" Hermione asked suddenly. Blaise and Draco both sneered at her.

"Don't get any pretty little illusions, Gryffindor." Blaise said vehemently.

"We do not, and more than likely will never like you. We care for Virginia, but nothing at all for any of you, so now would be a good time not to fool yourselves." Draco said icily. "The only reason we are even here is for her. So, no, little mudblood, we will not be nice, especially to people who have never shown any Slytherin even an ounce of kindness. We will be decent, mostly, unless provoked, and solely out of respect for her."

"But beyond that?" Blaise sneered. "Nothing has changed. You're still a mudblood, he's still worthless, and he's still a sidekick. And I do believe we're done with this little Gryffindor inquisition. So sorry." Draco took his hand and they headed for the door.

"We'll wait for you outside, Virginia." He drawled over his shoulder, and she nodded, giving him a small smile. As soon as they were outside, Draco's hand twisted in his hair as he shoved him up against the wall, kissing him roughly.

"You're so hot when you sneer at Gryffindors." Draco breathed against his cheek a few moments (hours?) later, and cold shockwaves ran down his spine.

"Really?" He asked, managing to lift an eyebrow. "I suppose I should do it more often, then?"

"Oh, definitely." Draco replied before capturing his lips in another bruising kiss.

A tiny, high-pitched squeak had them drawing apart, only to see a small Gryffindor girl wearing the badge of a second year. Her eyes were huge, and somehow defied the laws of physics by growing even wider when she saw their faces. They smirked at each other; it really was too good of an opportunity to pass up. They did a small shift, letting their eyes glow eerily, and turned again as one to hiss venomously at her. She let out a long, blood-curdling scream, her mouth a perfect 'O', before turning and tearing down the stairs.

The door to Hermione's rooms flew open, but all the Gryffindors saw when they came out were Draco and Blaise in a worse state of hysterics than before, tears actually running down their faces as they shook with laughter. Hermione had already come to the conclusion that they were both slightly (maybe more than slightly) insane. But that didn't explain the...Voices suddenly rose up the staircase from the common room down below, asking someone who was sobbing if they were all right, and a girl screamed something about...

"Two evil, demon Slytherins?!?" Hermione nearly shrieked, cursing herself for being stupid enough to leave them alone inside Gryffindor House. She really should have guessed something like this would happen. "What did you two do!?" Typically, they didn't answer.

"What did you two do?" Ginny repeated, half in anxiety, half in amusement, though she tried to hide that from the trio. When she asked, they slowly stopped laughing, drawing themselves up gracefully while continuing to snicker. They each waved a hand, and the tears were gone from their robes and faces, as was any trace of the severe attack of amusement they'd both experienced a moment ago.

"It's not our fault." Blaise said haughtily.

"Yeah, she was the one spying on people." Draco supplied.

"Innocent people at that, I might add." Blaise said cheekily.

"Exactly my thoughts. Hadn't done a thing, honestly." Draco added, looking at Virginia with wide, doe-like eyes.

"It's not like we-" Blaise was cut off by a scream echoing up the stairwell.

"THEY WERE KISSING! REALLY KISSING! I THOUGHT THEY WERE ATTACKING EACH OTHER AT FIRST! THEN THEY TURNED AND SHOWED ME THEIR GLOWING DEMON EYES AND CURSED ME IN PARSELTONGUE!"

Silence. A mumbled question that couldn't be heard. Another shriek drifted up to them.

"DRACO MALFOY AND BLAISE ZABINI!"

Silence. Then a deep, rumbling noise that took them a moment to identify as dozens of pounding feet running hell-bent up the stairs. Threats and curses preceded the small mob of Gryffindors, and Draco and Blaise looked completely serious now.

"Stop them, O Golden Trio." Draco growled, a clear warning in his tone. "If they throw the first curse, we are not responsible for what happens to their bodies or their delicate sensibilities when they realize how incredibly futile their little sticks are against us." The three Gryffindors looked at him, realized he was entirely fucking serious, and tried not to panic. They ran to the landing, attempting to form a barrier between their Housemates and the three figures at the end of the short hallway. The owners of the pounding feet came into view soon enough.

"Move, Hermione!" Seamus shouted. "That traitorous Slytherin filth threatened my cousin! No one will blame us for fucking them up a bit! I mean, there's plenty of us, even for them! They're only some stupid Slytherin shits when you get right down to it." As soon as the last words left his mouth, instant, freezing cold coated the hallway and stairs, and lightning crackled after it, running over the ice-coated walls and ceiling, casting sporadic shadows over everything.

"Never mind, Hermione." Blaise's spectral voice cut through the screams that had broken out. "Fuck their sensibilities."

And then the charging Gryffindors got their first look at the real Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. Draco's hair had become a mercury snowstorm, flying around him wildly. His lips and eyelids were a dark blue, contrasting vibrantly with his skin, which was shining like white-silver moonlight. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes looked like molten metal caught in a blizzard, the color in the irises swirling madly, and they were once more glowing, the pupils split like a cat's.

Where Draco's hair was snow and ice, Blaise's was shadows and pure lightning. His eyes flashed, a mini electrical storm trapped within them, his own oval, slit pupils the only parts not affected. His skin shone just as brightly as Draco's, but with darkened blue edges. They both looked positively feral, ethereal even. A shield covered them and one other, Virginia, shimmering in the air around them, and the volts of pure electricity that formed it made the Gryffindors' hair stand on end.

Another shield encircled that one, and it appeared a thin, see-through layer of ice. Ice that would eat your skin off within seconds, and that a muggle plane could collide with and not leave a scratch on its frozen surface. Shards of it that were as sharp as diamonds swirled around the shield, whistling through the air. With them using their power, the gathered witches and wizards could practically hear their senses going haywire, screaming 'Elementals! Danger! Run!!'. So they did. As one, they turned and fled back down the stairs, not that any would actually admit to doing so later on. Gryffindor is known for bravery, after all. Who were they to disappoint?

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