Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Author's Note: Once again, 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?

French translations: ((example))

Responses to my beloved reviewers: tkmoore, if I had a kingdom, I would give it to you. (grins insanely) it's just 'cause I love ya, man! seri-chan, (bows down and kisses your feet) loveyouloveyouloveyou…jenn, a voldie barbie…a voldie barbie…(cackles) you're going to kill me! Catalina Royce, your review was so long and wonderful and you are just AWESOME! Haunted-Shadows, thank you! and I use Babylon pro. sillysun, thanks! I hope the story meets your expectations in the end! aoi-yuki-yume, was that S.K. book (I'm assuming it's a book) worth reading? and thanks for the badass review, as usual! babykelyse, another early chapter, so don't go starve to death on me, ok? lol power of the stars, your review had me cracking up! and I know I didn't, lol. AnitaBlake/BuffyFan, hope this was quick enough! Tytianne, thank you a bagillion times! tcup, thanks, I will! TarynMalfoy88, yeah, Padma was a bit of a curve ball, eh? lol yellow notepaper, thanks, and I reviewed just for you! Voldemort8, forgive me! I'll attempt to up the death factor for you, hmm? lol me, don't die! I need your reviews like I need air, damn it! Ludra, hope this was soon enough, lol. SkotosEnigma, aren't they pretty, though? I totally agree (obviously). and thanks for the great review! fanfare, because they're hot that way, silly. gin rose raposo1, thanks, and here is the 'more' you requested! potts, thank you! Meryl, (laughing my ass off at your review) that was great! :) RebbeccaTurner01, no! no sporks! and I joined that Penta one, just for you! kia, what people, hun? tell me and I'll try to clear it up for you. candice364, thanks! short arse, thanks, as usual! el chikita joules, thank you so much! Danni is Divine, James is Mine, Thank you, thank you, thank you! Fallen, Padma Patil is Parvati Patil's twin sister, a Ravenclaw. lol :) a:sam, as always, thank you! xxbabysparklesxx, thanks! moonspirit11, THANKS! coolchick, updated! lol Angie, no problem, and thank you!

Author's Note: Thanks to a lovely reviewer, pitchic05, it has come to my attention that when using my beloved little French endearments, 'mon' instead of 'ma' is supposed to be used before a word starting with a vowel. Sooooo…I'll be doing it that way from now on, and I'll eventually go back through the other chapters and fix those. Thanks, pitchic05!

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Hermione sat cross-legged against one wall in the bustling main parlor, watching as house elves and ghosts scurried back and forth on errands. They were the only sorts of servants that she'd seen during her stay, unless you counted the Dementors, Red Caps and Porlocks, the two small covens of banshees and hags, or the occasional Sphinx. Currently, the entire Manor was in an uproar. But not the kind that she'd expected. Everyone from the lady of the house to the tiniest elf was dashing about madly, decorating the Manor for the Yule Ball that they held there every other year. She hadn't even known there would be one until Molly had swooped into her room yesterday morning.

The woman had woken her up with a steaming tray of food and a warm smile, telling her to hurry and eat while she got her something to wear. Asking what the rush was, Hermione had wolfed down two pieces of toast and a boiled egg by the time Molly had laid out an outfit for her. Pulling her nightgown off and her robes on, she'd listened to Molly's rushed explanation about the ball the night after next. The Malfoys and Zabinis had been celebrating Yule together for centuries, and the annual Yule Ball was held at Malfoy Manor one year, Tenebre Stella the next. It was to be a grand affair, the event of choice for society's elite.

Wizarding nobility from all over the world would be in attendance, and Hermione felt herself growing more nervous by the minute. She was on lunch break at the moment, her empty platter sitting next to her on the floor. Mephite was on her other side, and she scratched his massive head idly, as he'd finally started to at least tolerate her touch. His thick, soft fur under her fingers made her feel a bit better, but she knew it wouldn't last. Someone on the other side of the room shrieked, and she looked over to see Narcissa waving her wand threateningly at Blaise and George, who were snickering and having to hold onto one another in order to keep standing.

They had, apparently, snuck up behind her with mistletoe, and both had laid sound kisses on her lips before she'd even seen them. Spluttering and very nearly blushing, she told them that they were both heathens and then covered them in glitter. Sneezing, Blaise threw George off balance and they fell back into Draco, who was fighting with a strand of ivy. He, in turn, toppled onto Snape, bringing half an hour's worth of ivy-work down with him, and all four lay in a pile on the floor, liberally covered in glitter. Then Ginny and Padma started laughing, shortly followed by the others, and Hermione couldn't stop from staring at the two girls.

To say that things had changed drastically in the last few days was an understatement of monumental proportions. After Ginny, Draco, Blaise and the twins had left the other day, Molly had caught her second wind and let Ron have it. She'd yelled for close to thirty minutes, and at the end, Ron had been reduced to a whimpering, cringing rag doll. They'd forgone going to see the dragon and had come back to the Manor, sitting in stony and contemplative silence. The Slytherins had departed, off to do who knew what, and they'd stayed like that for hours until a man's head had popped up out of nowhere in the fireplace.

Narcissa and Silana had recognized him immediately, and later told them that it had been a storeowner they knew. The man had been yelling their names, and when he saw them, he'd started rambling in French until Narcissa told him to switch to English for the Weasleys benefit. So he had, saying that a Weasley had been shot by a muggle and that Draco demanded they be informed immediately. Pandemonium had broken out instantly, and Harry, Ron and Hermione had been ordered to stay behind, as had the other Slytherins, who had reappeared at the man's shouting. When everyone had returned, Hermione had felt like her heart had stopped.

Draco had once again been covered in blood, a limp, seemingly dead Ginny in his arms, while Snape had been a step behind him, carrying Blaise, who had been in much the same condition as she was, except his hands and sleeves were coated with dried red flakes. George had been right on their heels, a deathly pale Fred cradled against his chest, while Padma Patil, of all people, had been holding Ginny's lifeless hand. Molly had been sobbing, leaning into Arthur, and the others who'd gone with them, along with a woman that she later discovered was Padma's aunt, hadn't been far behind. All had looked shocked and worried, before disappearing into the endless corridors.

Afterwards, they'd learned what had happened. Pansy and Anton had raised hell to the point of rioting until they'd been allowed in to see their friends, and had come out soon afterwards, looking quite a bit calmer. Blaise and Ginny had both been deep in a healing sleep, and Draco had been exhausted to the point of collapsing, as he'd poured every last bit of his energy into his lovers in order to speed up their recovery time. To the surprise of all, Padma had refused to leave their side, keeping vigil even after Draco had slipped into sleep as well. Fred had been taken into their room with them, and all four had lain comatose on the sheets and furs for almost eight hours.

George had stayed as well, which surprised no one. The only other occupants of the room had been the pride of great cats, the two largest and one cub sleeping in the bed with them, and a huge leopard that was even larger then they were. The leopard had paws bigger then dinner plates and eyes that had no definable color. They'd simply reminded her of death and malevolence. Startled whispers from Bill and Charlie had let her know it was one of the feared and fearsome Nundu, and from what Narcissa had told them, it was the leader of the pride on the grounds. Later, after the four had awoken, everyone had gotten to visit them long enough to see that they were okay before they'd been kicked out again.

For two days after that, no one had seen hide nor hair of them, except for the twins, who had come out after the first day and had denied entrance to everyone else. There had been something…different about them, and she could have sworn that their eyes had been a lighter blue before they'd gone into that room. The other four had stayed locked away for another day, and everyone else had been dying of curiosity. How had Padma gotten through Draco's shield? How had she done what she had to help Ginny? Why had they been looking at each other so strangely when everyone had gone to visit? And what in the fuck were they doing in there?

Fred and George had refused to tell them anything, so Molly had resorted to fussing over Fred. She'd had him show her the wound, but it hadn't been able to be called that any longer. Blaise had healed it and neutralized the slow-death spell that had been on the bullet, and that Draco had told Snape about before he'd passed out. All that was left of the nearly fatal injury was a circular patch of perfectly pale skin that was utterly devoid of freckles. Molly had then said, with tears in her eyes, that at least she had a new way to tell the twins apart. George had abolished that opinion by pulling his own shirt up, revealing a matching spot of blank flesh.

Then, yesterday morning, the four of them had appeared to help decorate as if nothing had happened. No one had said anything, opting to study them instead. There was a sense of peace around them, a sense of steadiness. And Padma's eyes…Had she ever seen eyes so calm, so serene? And the four of them had very nearly been moving in unison, and had to catch themselves from talking simultaneously more than once, to everyone's bafflement. The only people taking it in stride were the twins, but she was sure that they knew way more than the others did about what had happened in that room, about what had changed.

What was obvious was that Padma seemed to meld into their tight fold like a piece they hadn't realized was missing until it was there. But it was the nature of her ties with them that made Hermione horridly curious. And, if she was honest, more than a bit envious. After all, she'd been wanting their friendship forever, failing miserably with every attempt and only barely winning Ginny back. But along comes Padma, out of the blue, and she's sucked right in. No, her mind argued, there has to be more to it then that. There's no way that they'd just blindly accepted her, no way that they'd just started trusting her for no reason, especially not Draco and Blaise.

Then why, goddamnit, had they? In a day and a half of watching them, her jealousy had grown no matter how hard she'd tried to stop it. They, along with the twins, had acted as if it had been just the six of them, as if everyone else was mostly invisible. And they acted as if it had always been that way. Oh, they still talked to everyone, especially the Slytherins, but you could see that their attention wasn't fully in it. What had drawn them together? What bonds had been forged between Padma, Ginny and her boyfriends? And what bonds did they now share with the twins? Basically, it kept coming back to 'what the fuck had happened in that room?'

"Pansy!" Draco's voice cut through Hermione's musings. "I just opened the wards for your sister; she's coming through the floo!" He called out across the room to the dark haired girl, and she nodded, straightening up and abandoning the green silk streamers that she was hanging from the ceiling with sticking spells. Lycelle and a house elf came into the parlor a few moments later, and the sisters embraced warmly, yet aloofly. Lycelle offered to help, and to Hermione's surprise, she walked over to her after greeting the others and seeing her alone.

"Want some help?" The girl asked, and Hermione felt like kissing her when she saw the sincere, yet slightly guarded, look in her eyes. Her only company was Ginny and Mephite, and the former was pulled in too many directions in the first place, while the latter barely acknowledged her existence.

"Um, well, sure. I mean, if you want to." Hermione said, and led her to where the baskets of fresh holly were. They worked in companionable silence for well over an hour, moving from room to room on the ground floor until they came out into the main foyer, where it seemed that almost everyone else had eventually migrated to as well.

She saw Draco nudge Blaise a while later and whisper something before the front doors flew open and a lithe, arrogant-looking girl glided in, hair as white-blond as Narcissa and Silana's flowing to the middle of her back in waves and swishing around her. She wore robes of pearl trimmed in silver, and her cheeks were pink from the cold air outside, making her azure eyes dark. She saw Draco and Blaise, and her cold mask cracked as she broke into a run. Blaise swept her into a hug immediately, spinning her around as she laughed, before passing her off to Draco, who sat her down lightly, kissing her cheek. A woman came in behind her, slightly taller, her hair just as fair.

"Who's that?" Hermione whispered, pointing to the girl, and Lycelle leaned in.

"Mira Zabini. She's Blaise's first cousin, his mother's sister's daughter. That's her mother, there." She whispered back, pointing at the woman. "Armynel Zabini. Was Armynel Fauluri until a little over a year ago. Her husband died, and Blaise let them take the name Zabini."

"It's good to see you, Mira." Draco said, causing their whispers to cease, and the girl laughed again.

"It is good to see you, as well, Draco." She said, her French accent distinct but not marring her English. Turning to Blaise, she punched him on the arm. "And you, cousin! You have not written in weeks!"

"Forgive me, dear Mira." Blaise smirked. "I've been a bit busy."

"Oui, oui, I know." She rolled her eyes. "I read the papers, which you've been highlighted in quite often. This latest dilemma has the whole country bristling. But tell me one thing, truthfully, because I'm dying to know: Did you really beat the shit out of Potter?" A mocking smile curved his lips.

"Ask him yourself." He said, and her blue eyes widened.

"What?" She asked incredulously. "Here?" When he nodded, a distasteful look on his face, she spun, running her gaze over the people around her for the first time. She spotted Harry, and stalked up to him. Looking startled, he backed away a step or two at her rapid approach, until his back hit the wall. "Well, well," she drawled, "look what we have here. Fresh meat. Can we hurt him?"

"Gods, I wish." Draco muttered, while Hermione sucked in a breath. She didn't like the lilt in Mira's voice. It hadn't been entirely…human. Almost certain at that point that the girl in front of her was more than just a little veela, Hermione sighed. Wonderful. Another veela that was sure to despise her.

"Mira, that's enough. Leave that Potter brat alone." Armynel called, her voice a slightly older version of her daughter's, and Hermione started when she saw just how much the woman resembled Silana now that she saw them side by side. "I, for one, am dying to meet Virginia." She said, her teal eyes falling on Ginny, who was standing with Padma and Pansy a little to the right of her boyfriends. Mira walked back over to her cousin, her gaze now running over Ginny from head to toe. Instead of doing what Hermione would have and dropping her eyes to the floor, Ginny stared right back, and just as bluntly. Ignoring her for the moment, Mira looked at Padma.

"What are you doing here early, Padma? I didn't think your family was arriving until tomorrow night like everyone else's."

"They aren't." Padma replied neutrally, although she did take a subtle, yet meaningful, step closer to Ginny. "I helped them in Paris."

"Did you? You weren't in the article."

"I asked not to be." Padma said, her soft, lyrical voice like grass rustling in the wind. Mira nodded, and finally turned to Ginny.

"So, you're the one who thinks you're good enough for my cousin, oui?" Mira asked acidly, and Ginny's eyes narrowed. "You don't look very special to me. But I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything more. You are British, after all." She stated, and Hermione wondered if she was blind. The girl herself was beautiful, but Ginny's dark radiance was nearly incomparable.

"So sorry to disappoint." Ginny replied in a sickly sweet voice, every word dripping sugary poison. "You must be the cousin they told me couldn't keep her legs closed. Oh well, better a British bitch than a French floozy."

"Are you calling me a whore?" Mira demanded, outraged. Ginny sneered.

"No. Whores get paid." She said viciously, and Hermione braced herself for the first explosion. But it didn't come, as instead of freaking out, Mira gave a small smile.

"I guess you're alright." She said, and Ginny returned her grin. What the hell? They were about to murder each other two seconds ago, and now they're hugging? "They told me you were, but…"

"Don't worry about it." Ginny said, her charcoal eyes bright with amusement. "I was warned on how to handle you."

"Handle me?" Mira scowled. "Blaise…"

"Wasn't me."

"Draco…"

"Nope. Completely innocent, this time."

"Gregory! Vincent!" Mira whispered harshly, spinning to face the culprits. Putting on a hurt expression, she crossed her arms over her chest. "So you've been saying mean things about me again?" She asked, while Gregory and Vincent stared. Hermione supposed Mira must have grown a bit since they'd last seen her.

"Would we do that?" Goyle asked quietly, a teasing note in his voice, and Hermione noticed that the surprised stares weren't one-sided. Mira drew closer to them, her eyes soaking them in, and Blaise and Draco exchanged knowing glances.

"Yes." The girl replied. "I do believe you would. And didn't you two pretty up nicely?" She asked, an appreciative note to her voice, and Crabbe and Goyle looked at her as if she'd gone mad. "Want to go for a swim?" There wasn't really any more that needed to be said. They left after waving goodbye, and everyone started working again while Armynel introduced herself to Ginny. Sighing, Hermione let herself relax a bit. Perhaps that would be the worst they had to deal with today. I mean, surely, she thought to herself, nothing else can happen, we're at the Manor. Safe. Which was true. But she didn't take into count human stupidity.

"Hermione?" A familiar voice inquired from behind them, and Hermione put her basket down, but kept her wand. Maybe the Slytherins' paranoia was wiping off on her. Or maybe she still recalled too clearly the look in his eyes when he'd tried to stab Blaise in the back.

"Harry." She said, turning to face him.

Lycelle was looking at them strangely, but said nothing. Harry looked as if he was a second from bolting, and he was fidgeting uncomfortably. How had they come to this? A year ago, no, a month ago, they were as close as she had thought it possible to be with another person outside of marriage. And now…Now she'd seen how close the Slytherins were, and she'd reevaluated their (hers, Harry's and Ron's) friendship, studying it from all angles. And she'd found it lacking. That belief had been reinforced when they'd turned on her in a second, over something that wasn't even any of their fucking business in the first place.

"I…" He started hesitantly, then drew himself up and took a deep breath. "Can we talk?" He asked, and shot a look at Lycelle. "Alone?"

"Well," she really shouldn't, she knew she shouldn't, but…"I guess so. Come on, there's an empty room over here." He nodded and followed her out of the foyer, and she led him to one of the rooms that they'd finished decorating earlier. He went in ahead of her, and she left the door open a crack in case someone needed them for something, while Mephite curled up in the hallway. "What do you want?" She started, wanting to get to the point of this discussion and then get out of there.

"To—to apologize." He said, and she wondered why his lost puppy expression wasn't affecting her like it usually did. But how could it? How could it when she knew that those innocent eyes could hold such unfeeling hatred? Shaking such thoughts from her head, she looked up at him.

"What's the point? You and Ron have made your opinions of me quite clear."

"No! Hermione, I don't…I'm not mad at you like Ron; I just didn't know what to say. I mean, why did you…"

"Why did I what? Sleep with Anton?" She suggested, and shrugged, feeling tired. "I suppose it seemed like a good idea at the time. I just wanted—I don't know."

"Yes, you do!" He argued. "Never, ever, have you done something without thinking it through first. Even in the middle of a crisis, you still think of everything! I don't believe for a second that you didn't have a reason! So, just tell me. You used to tell me everything."

"I just wanted to know what it was like, alright?" She said, walking past him to the window.

"But why him? Why a Slytherin? Have you seen the way Pansy looks at you now? Everyone…Hermione, if you were just—I mean, if you just wanted—Why didn't you come to one of us?" He questioned, and she stiffened. There was the inevitable question. Why hadn't she? She knew that's what everyone would be wondering. Hell, she'd wondered herself. But the truth of it was quite simple.

"I never saw either of you like that." She said honestly, and turned to face him. Something flickered in his emerald eyes, but it was gone a moment later and she continued. "You were both like the brothers I never had, my best friends in the whole world. But best friends don't act the way you two have. I have never judged either of you for anything, never deserted you when you needed me. I never thought to expect any less from you in return, and that is where I went wrong. I've discovered, in my days of solitude, that I don't need you like I thought I did. I don't need two people who quite obviously couldn't give a damn about me when it comes down to it. So I don't think the question is why I didn't, but why in the hell I would."

"So that's it then." Harry said, and she sucked in a startled breath when his eyes darkened strangely. No, she thought distantly, backing away from him, not again. "You fucking whore yourself out, we don't approve, and you get pissy? What the fuck, Hermione? I was trying to apologize. It's stupid to turn down the only friend you'll have." He was moving towards her with that look, damn it, that same look he'd had on the Quidditch pitch that day, and she felt fear start to settle in her stomach. This wasn't right, it wasn't him…but it was.

"Harry…"

"Shut up." He spat, getting ever closer. She swore there were flecks of red in his eyes, but the growing threat of his nearing presence didn't let her concentrate on it. "So I'm not good enough for you? I'll show you good enough, you traitorous little bitch."

Then he was on her, his hands everywhere as his mouth covered hers. She screamed but it was muffled, and he was stronger than her by far. She fought him anyway, scratching and hitting with everything in her. What the fuck was wrong with him? She heard a shout outside the door, heard Lycelle yelling something, and prayed that the girl had followed them like she thought she had. Renewing her efforts to get him off of her, she sobbed in relief when their bodies were separated roughly. Looking up at a furious Ginny, she watched, numb, as the girl grabbed Harry by the throat and threw him into the far wall.

"Bad move, Potter." She heard Blaise comment wryly from her left, but her eyes were glued on Ginny, who appeared at Harry's side again almost instantly. Her eyes were sparking madly, and sharp, deadly fangs glinted in the weak sunlight streaming through the window. Enlightenment seemed to hit Hermione dead on, and she realized why the girl was so angry. It wasn't just because they were friends. Seeing what she just had must have brought back memories of her own close call not too long ago, and she'd snapped. Ginny wrapped a clawed hand in Harry's hair and yanked him up brutally, until his face was right underneath her sneering one.

"I do believe you were told you had one chance and one chance only." Ginny snarled, and Harry's eyes were wide and…Harry again. She turned to her lovers. "Do it."

"As you wish." Draco responded gleefully, a real smile crossing his lips. Then he and Blaise threw their heads back and roared. Dropping to her knees and covering her ears, Hermione wondered briefly if she'd gone deaf.

Someone grabbed her arm and she looked over and into Lycelle's eyes as the walls of the Manor seemed to shiver and shimmer, glowing a dark blue and green before the colors faded with the noise. Letting her hands drop, she heard other throats echoing their cry from what seemed like every direction, and she realized that it was the different creatures that called this place 'home' and that named them 'master'. The only cries she could distinguish from the mass were the dragons', but the worst part was the growing, creeping cold that seemed to be converging on the room, growing thicker by the second. Dementors.

"It's your claim, Virginia." Blaise said, twirling Harry's wand in his fingers, though how he'd gotten it, she had no idea. "State the terms." Ginny nodded and dropped Harry carelessly, pushing against him when she did hard enough to ensure that his head bounced off the marble floor. She walked over to a platinum plaque on the wall that was like the many others Hermione had seen scattered around the Manor and at the carriage station, and sliced her palm open with a nail before slamming it onto the shiny surface.

"For his attack on a guest of the Manor, I sentence Harry James Potter to the Dimidium Hunt." She said, her voice spectral and just plain scary. "He thought to make prey of one I call friend, so now he shall see what it is to be prey. By blood of one soulbound to your Lord, hear my words and heed them! Let the Hunt begin." The walls of the Manor rumbled in response, and when Ginny pulled her hand away, it was healed, the blood gone from her palm and the metal of the plaque. She took Harry in hand once more, and looked him in the eyes. "I cared for you once, but that was long ago. I care nothing for you know, and your death would not trouble me. It is time you learned your place." Then she threw him straight out the window without any more preamble, and he passed through it as if the glass wasn't even there. Silence covered all for a moment, and then Ron found his voice.

"What did you do? What the fuck did you just do?" He demanded, and Ginny turned those frighteningly fierce eyes on him.

"It's none of your bloody concern!" She snapped. "In case you've forgotten, you're not at Hogwarts, or the Burrow, or even in Britain at all anymore. You are at Malfoy Manor, in France, and it might as well be an entire other world in your case. You have no authority here, or anywhere else for that matter, and quite frankly, I've grown beyond sick of your shit, as has everyone else. Because of that, it's been decided that if you mess up again, you simply will not be allowed to leave your rooms for the rest of your stay. Don't test me again."

"Don't test you? You just sent Harry to his death! I'm going after him!" Ron yelled. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Not very good in Latin, are you?" She taunted. "Dimidium means 'half'. It's not a hunt to the death, but he thinks it is, and that's the point. Don't get me wrong; it won't be pleasant. But our god says he is needed, so no, he won't die. Otherwise, he'd be dead already."

Ginny went to say something else when Padma laid a hand on her arm. Ginny calmed immediately, almost as if a part of the strange, eerie peace in Padma's eyes had spread to her as well. Wondering yet again if Padma had joined the three as their lover or as something else, Hermione got to her feet slowly, letting Lycelle help her up. There were too many questions and not enough answers, and Hermione felt as if her head would explode. She was also starting to worry about her budding friendship with Lycelle. What would the girl say when she heard what had happened between Hermione and Anton? She was Pansy's sister, after all.

Telling Lycelle she'd catch up with her later, Hermione set off in a random walk through the Manor, Mephite trailing her as always. She went up and down, back and forth, never paying attention to where her feet were leading her. She kept replaying Harry's behavior in her head, and kept coming up with the same conclusions. Either his scar was affecting him, or he was cracking up. She knew it was possible that it was simply the real Harry finally shining through, but that was almost too horrible to imagine. Raised voices caught her attention, and unable to help herself, she followed them until she was on a shadowy balcony above the room they were in.

"Why won't you at least fucking talk to me?" Anton inquired, smashing a fist into the wall by Pansy's head. "We've been friends eight years, Pansy. Eight bloody years, and you go all cold on me now? Over something so goddamned trivial?"

"Fuck you, Anton." Pansy hissed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It wasn't fucking trivial, it was…" She grew silent again, and Hermione could see Anton's rigid form practically vibrating with tension.

"It was what?" He growled. "What the fuck upset you so much about this? What's the real problem? 'Cause she's not it."

"It's nothing!" Pansy exclaimed, trying to slither away from him. But his other arm came up, caging her in, and her next words were filled with frustration, longing, and something Hermione couldn't name. "I should have known better! I should have known that night in Kinira meant nothing to you! Your one night stands never do, remember?"

Anton looked quite a bit stunned. "What!? Are you fucking kidding me, Pansy? You're the one who said it could never happen again! You're the one who told me not to place any meaning in it! You're the one who said it was just a slip, and you're the one that said it was one night and one night only!"

"Then I suppose I made a wise decision, didn't I?" She said, once more trying to get free. But Anton was having none of it.

"That's why you're pissed off? I didn't get mad at you about that guy from Madrid that you told us all about, or—"

"There was no guy in Madrid." Pansy said softly, and Anton stiffened even farther.

"What are you talking about? Of course there was, you—"

"There was no guy in Madrid." Pansy repeated, her struggling ceasing and her eyes closing tightly. "I made it up, alright? You'd gotten with that witch from Naryan-Mar and I…"

"There was no witch in Naryan-Mar." Anton tossed her words back at her, and her eyes opened wide. They stared at each other for a long time, and Hermione knew that she should leave, that she should have already been gone. But she couldn't. It was as if her feet were rooted to the floor.

"But—" Pansy finally started, only to have Anton lay a slender hand over her mouth.

"Shh." He said, his voice going low and satiny. "You want truth from me?" He asked, and she nodded slowly, her dark eyes searching his face. "There hasn't been anyone since our night in the Aegean Sea, not until the other night. I gave more to you then I knew at the time. It was in Russia that I discovered just how much, when that cute little witch petitioned me. I couldn't do it, but there was no way I was telling all of you that. You'd have wanted to know why, after all, and what would I have said? I did tell Draco and Blaise not too long afterwards, and Gregory and Vincent had been with me, but what would I have told Melody and Daphne? What would I have told you? You'd made it glaringly obvious that you didn't want my attentions."

"I—" Pansy tried, but his hand tightened.

"Uh uh." He chided, the ghost of a smile flickering across his shapely mouth. "Not until I'm done. This is what you wanted, correct? For me to finally crack and pour my soul out, laying it at your feet? Funnily enough, though, Pansy, I believe it's been there for a while. Do you remember that oath we took when we were first years? We'd said that we'd never find anyone to be as close to as Blaise and Dray were to each other, because as blind as they were for so long, we all already knew. We said that we'd never find anyone to be as close to as we already were with one another, so we vowed to never fall in love."

Pansy nodded, the first tear escaping her tight control and running down her cheek until it hit his hand.

"I must break that vow now." He said, and it was her turn to stiffen. "For it seems my heart is no longer my own. A vixen has sunken firm claws into it, and I do not think I ever really had a chance for escape. She's truly wonderful, this witch that I wish to make mine. She's smart, of course, one of the smartest people that I've ever known, and she's loyal to those who she deems has earned her loyalty. She's caring and cunning, cold and compassionate. She has a smile, when she chooses to bestow it, that makes me feel as if my world has ended and started over again, all at once. I've found that I can be quite content for hours just watching her hands write out a letter or an essay."

More tears had followed the first from those brandy eyes, and Hermione realized that for all her arrogance, Pansy honestly didn't believe that he was talking about her.

"Many think Slytherins heartless, but you and I both know that's a lie. When moved, we feel more deeply then others could begin to understand. And she has moved me irreplaceably. I think of her when I wake up every morning, I think of her during classes, during meals, and she is the last thing I see at night when I close my eyes. She haunts every step I take, and I've come to accept that I will never be free of her. And why would I wish to be? In my eyes, none outshine her. None could ever hope to. So you'll have to forgive me for this breach of faith, for this broken oath. It is the first promise I have ever failed you with, but I cannot avoid it nor ignore it. You have stolen my soul from me, Pansy, and I wish for it back. I would take you as my wife, if you would but have me. I love you."

Such simple words. Three simple, overused words that might have been considered a lie in the eyes of many when coming from one of his kind. But Hermione had come to realize that it was quite the opposite. If those words, those weakening, risky, soul-bearing words were spilled from the lips of a Slytherin, then every syllable was worth more than their fortunes to them, more even than their own lives. The effect of those heart-clenching words on Pansy was clearly evident, as his hand dropped and her shocked gasp filled the room. She swayed and would have fallen had he not steadied her, and she was as pale as a sheet.

"Pan—" Anton started, but Pansy drew herself up, a new, brilliant fire beginning to blaze within her eyes. It was she who covered his mouth with a hand that time, she who flipped him around and pinned him to the wall, she who had his eyes turning confused and wary.

"Shh." She mimicked him from moments ago. "You want truth from me?" He nodded, just as she had, a single lock of his hair falling across one sharp cheekbone. "There has been no one else for me, either, since Draco's ingenious idea of taking us all to the Greek archipelago. But I knew exactly what I was giving you that night. I also knew it was foolish. I'd heard you talk about your lovers before, how could I not have when we told each other everything? You were the only one to hear my secrets besides Draco and Blaise, and I know the reverse held true. So who was I to think that you would ever forsake the oath that we'd taken as I already had? I knew you did not wish for commitment."

Anton shook his head, the look in his eyes remarkably clear even from where Hermione was. It said, 'No, Pansy. I just didn't wish for commitment with anyone but you'.

"Melody and Daphne knew as well, of course, and held their tongues like I asked them to. Had they known this is what you wanted, they would have done something by now. And this is what you want, correct? For me to finally crack and hand you my heart, prettily impaled on one of the shards? Funnily enough, though, Anton, I know it's been yours for a while. It's been claimed by a wizard that's devious, of course, one of the most devious people that I've ever known. He's cruel and sadistic, utterly depraved in every way, and I wouldn't change a thing. The few that he considers worthy of his love are loved like no others, and those that awaken his ruthless side do not normally make it through the night."

Pansy stopped then, and tilted her head to the side, a rare, fond smile causing her beauty to morph into something very nearly devastating. Or so it seemed to Anton, as his eyes devoured her every move avidly.

"Did I ever thank you properly for what you did for me that day in Augsburg? Those werewolves would have killed me, you know, even though the moon was waning. I could see it, sense it. The one day since I was five that I went out without my wand, and I run into a pair of werewolves that were burying a body, of all things. I didn't think any of you would hear me scream, but you did. Never have I seen you so furious, before or since. I thought for a moment that Draco or Blaise had given you the Blood, because your eyes were truly frightening and your fury nearly tangible. Melody thought that you'd gone mad. I simply thought that you'd act that way for any of us, and I am truly grateful no matter the reason."

How can eyes be so expressive? Perhaps they really are looking glasses into the soul, Hermione pondered. Or perhaps this is just what a Slytherin's eyes look like when all of their defensive masks and icy walls fall to dust beneath love's fingertips.

"I cannot put into words what I felt when I saw you in that cove. And with her, of all people. I wanted nothing more than to kill her, to see her blood splatter over your skin and for you to know that it was my doing. And afterwards…It was my fault that it even happened, in a way. If I hadn't said those things to you in Greece…But I will never forgive her. She'd seen me looking at you, I know she had, and yet she followed you, fucked you. She will pay for crossing me one day, but I care not to waste more words on her. I know you, Anton, and I trust you. If you say you truly meant the things you have spoken of today, then I will take you at your word. Many think you heartless, but I know that's a lie. And I do not ask for forgiveness for my broken oath. I revel in it." Her hushed voice reverberated with pure conviction and feeling, and her hand fell away as she took a step back.

"Pansy—"

"I know. This is where we're supposed to declare our undying affection, yes? Make promises and pledges. But I tire of games and intrigue. I will be frank with you, as I have always been in the past. I would bind myself to you; I would take you as my lifemate, for I love you as well."

Anton did not answer her with words, simply let the dark joy in his eyes speak for itself before he pulled her back against him and claimed her lips with his own. Neither held anything back, and Hermione realized that what she had shared with Anton was nothing compared to this. They were very nearly eating each other alive, and clothes were already being ripped to careless pieces. Knowing that she had long outstayed her welcome (she shouldn't have been there in the first place), she left the balcony quietly, her chest aching strangely. Would she ever find something like that? That soul-consuming desire and hunger, that completeness? She didn't think so.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

It was later that night, right after they'd finished eating dinner, when the next early guest arrived. The decorations were almost complete, the frenzy of the last two days dying down a bit, and they were (but for Pansy and Anton) sitting in the front foyer again, watching Draco erect an ice sculpture of enormous proportions like one would a clay pot on a spinning wheel. Except there was no large chunk of ice for him to start out with. He was simply creating it out of nothing and shaping it with fingers, smoothing it with his palms. Ginny was helping him, using a fingertip to burn designs and runes into it, and every once in a while, Blaise would be petitioned to blast off an edge.

"Mother!" Draco called suddenly, and Narcissa looked up from the fairies she was giving directions to. "Your cousin is here."

"Already?" She asked, tucking a strand of loose, pale hair behind one perfectly formed ear.

"'Cissa!" A low male voice rang out, a moment before the visitor entered. When he did, Hermione's jaw hit the floor. At least she wasn't alone. The Weasleys, but for the twins, of course, all looked just as shocked as she must have, so it was a small consolation. Narcissa embraced him while Snape glared, and Hermione slowly shut her gaping mouth.

"It's good to see you, Sirius." Narcissa said warmly. Well, as warmly as she ever said anything, at least. "I trust that Tenebre Stella has met your approval? You look wonderful."

She was right. Sirius looked better than Hermione had ever seen him. His skin was darkened, apparently from the Italian sun, and his eyes looked much more alive than they had during their last meeting. His thick, wavy black hair shone in the witchlight, unlike Blaise's, who's seemed to eat it, but it was almost as long. His robes were a dark crimson silk, and only barely showed the toes of his dragonhide boots. He looked healthy and well fed, which was new, but considering where he'd apparently been staying, it wasn't that surprising. He filled out the robes nicely, muscles moving visibly underneath the smooth fabric, and she couldn't help smiling.

"Don't compliment me too much, 'Cissa, or Snapey here might have a heart attack." He teased, and Snape scowled darkly. "And yes, Tenebre Stella was as beautiful and hospitable as I remembered. It's certainly not a bad place to hide out at. Definitely not boring, at any rate." He said, and Hermione glimpsed something move out of the corner of her eye. Glancing over quickly, she saw George talking to a house elf in a mumbling whisper, before he handed it something and it disappeared.

"Boring? I would think not." Narcissa responded with a knowing smirk. Sirius kissed her cheek and spun around, his eyes roving over the room. He spotted Draco and Blaise and walked up to them, before bowing mockingly.

"My lords." He intoned sarcastically.

"Canine." They replied in unison with nasty sneers, and Sirius grinned roguishly before pulling them into tight embraces. Snape's glare turned very nearly murderous, but Sirius ignored him, ruffling the two Slytherins' hair. It was a pointless move, as the silky strands fell back into place instantly, but it did cause them to don agitated looks.

"Goddamnit, Sirius." Blaise cursed, batting his hand away. "That's what I liked about Azkaban. You couldn't put your filthy paws all over us."

"Well, you could always take up residence there yourself in order to get away from me." Sirius suggested. "By the way, I redecorated the villa. All of that monochrome black, silver, purple and green was getting repetitive. But don't worry about it; I took care of it for you." He said passively, and Hermione wondered if he was trying to get one of them to flip out.

"If you changed even one minuscule little item in my home," Blaise said with narrowed eyes, "your furry half's going to wonder when, exactly, he'd been neutered." Sirius's eyes widened.

"Harsh." He murmured. "You're a harsh, evil little shit. I'm so proud."

"Whatever, Sirius." Blaise responded dryly, indigo eyes rolling.

"What do you care anyway?" Sirius questioned, his smirk back. "You have more homes than you can count."

"Correction, I have more houses than I can count." Blaise pointed out. "I only have two homes, and I'm in one of them now. If one thing, Sirius, if one fucking thing in Tenebre is gold or covered in shaggy, smelly dog fur, I swear by the gods that…" He trailed off, getting in a minor tug-of-war with Ginny over a strand of pinecones he was holding. She wrestled them from him after setting the one in his hand on fire, and he gave her a wounded look.

"Well, it's not like you're working!" She declared hotly. "You're just standing here chatting with this great oaf, and—" She didn't get to finish as Sirius swept her off her feet and spun around with her, laughing as she threatened to strangle him with the string of pinecones.

"My, my, hasn't the littlest Weasley grown up?" Sirius commented as he set her back on her feet, and she slapped him on the arm before glaring at her boyfriends.

"Thanks so much for all of your assistance." She said sarcastically.

"Anytime." Her boyfriends replied flippantly, and it seemed a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Oh, have I mentioned that I'm going out for a bit tomorrow?" She asked and their grins disappeared immediately. "Yule shopping, and all. Padma and Pansy are coming with me."

"Really."

"Yes. And it's for you two and I don't want to hear it." She said when they started to say more.

"I was going to say," Draco started after a moment, "that it can be arranged. You're not a prisoner here, and we have no intention of making you feel that way. Certain precautions will have to be taken, of course, and I do have one stipulation."

"What's that?" Ginny asked, looking slightly baffled. She hadn't, apparently, thought it was going to be that easy. Ah, well. Neither had anyone else.

"The Ezutîël go with you." Blaise answered for him simply, and Ginny stared at them as if they'd lost their minds.

"So…that's it? We can just…go?" She questioned disbelievingly.

"Well, of course not." Draco replied. "We'll have you weighed down with so many protection amulets that you'll rattle when you walk." Now that sounded more like them. Ginny sighed exasperatedly, but she couldn't stop a small smile.

"I knew it would be something." She said thoughtfully. "Although it's better than I expected, to tell the truth. I—"

"ARGH!!" A bellow cut her off, and they all spun to see Ron standing beside a house elf that looked suspiciously like the one George had been talking to.

It was holding a tray of sweetmeats and chocolate, and she could swear it was laughing internally as it watched Ron, who was, oddly, sprouting scales. Within half a minute, they'd covered his entire body, and when he opened his mouth to yell again, nothing came from his forked tongue but hisses. He started panicking after he ran his hands over his body, his twisted, webbed fingers scratching over the scales, which were…turning hot pink? Yes, they were definitely becoming pinker by the second. Ron spun in circles, high-pitched, sibilant screams pouring from his rough lips, and Draco, Blaise and the twins were the first to lose hold of their laughter.

"H-He hates sn-snakes so much," Fred gasped while Ron became more and more frantic, "that we th-thought we'd see how h-he liked being one."

"We told you Sneperskin strips would work." Draco choked out as Ron's cries reached a new level of hysteria. His horrified eyes nearly bugging out of his head, he was still running in circles and patting himself wildly, brushing off his parents' attempts to help him. Bill tried to catch him as he went by and Ron yelped and fled. He didn't make it fifteen feet before he slammed face-first into one of the black marble pillars and hit the floor like a sack of stones. They stared.

And then—"Did you get that?" George asked, looking at Blaise and Draco and trying to get his laughter to some sort of manageable level, while Hermione didn't even try to fight her own. "Please say you got that!"

"Oui." Blaise agreed, and it took him three tries to perform a simple summoning spell through his snickers. When he did manage, a crystal like the ones Hermione had seen at the Ministry flew into his hand. "We can watch that over and over and over…"

"I bet we could sell copies after we're done." Draco suggested, causing the other three to laugh even harder. "We can call it Ron's Requiem. Fuck, I'd be willing to give them away for free at this point."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny asked between hysterical giggles, holding onto Padma, who still looked utterly calm. But Hermione could see the amusement flickering deep within her eyes, and wondered how they could be so peaceful, yet so dark. Padma was an enigma, and one that Hermione was determined to figure out. "I would have helped."

"Because it's for you, Rose." Fred responded. "Did you think we'd just let all of that shit slide? Ron's started a war now, and we plan to see it to the finish. He shouldn't have fucked with you, but he did, and now he's got all four of us more than a bit ticked off. And funnily enough, we've learned that we work quite well together."

"Mm-hmm." George agreed, and their laughter finally started to cease, although none could look at the heap of pink scales without starting all over again. "Fred and I came up with the snake idea, we all brewed it and decided to make him pink, and they," he shot Draco and Blaise a warm, appraising look, "stirred in the timing spell. Why didn't you tell us that they're practically Masters already?"

"Don't change the subject." Ginny protested, calming down rapidly, as if Padma was somehow transferring her seemingly constant sense of steadiness to her once more. Again, the damnable questions reappeared. What is Padma's role here? Another lover? A friend? A strange sort of colleague? What has allowed her to do the impossible? What could possibly have earned her such friendship and trust from them in mere days? Jealousy flowed through her again and she gritted her teeth. As if it wasn't bad enough that Padma had been offered the Head Girl position before her and turned it down, but now she was where Hermione most desired to be. "What did Dray mean by 'after we're done'?" Ginny inquired, oblivious to Hermione's train of thought.

"Nothing." George said hastily, looking sideways at their mother kneeling on the ground beside Ron, who was still knocked out cold.

He was saved from further interrogating by Pansy and Anton's, quite belated, arrival. Both had either gotten new clothes or had somehow fixed the others, but Hermione didn't think so. There hadn't been more than three scraps of fabric larger then her hand by the time she'd left. Her cheeks heating as she thought of all that she'd seen and heard, she made sure not to meet theirs, or anyone else's, eyes. Neither was disheveled, as they'd obviously made a point to freshen up, but the dark bite marks just visible underneath their collars said more than words or rumpled robes, as did the fact that they were both very nearly radiant with afterglow, which, for wizards, can quite literally be a side effect of coupling.

"What took you so long, hmm?" Blaise asked, throwing Pansy's words from breakfast the other morning back at her with a mocking sneer. She didn't even bother glaring, a contented smile her only answer. Then Ginny shrieked.

"By the gods! Is that what I think it is!?" She questioned ecstatically, and Padma's eyes started sparkling happily. Both girls ran over to Pansy, who was beaming, and surrounded her, and giggling madly over something while Draco and Blaise drug Anton to the corner. "It is, isn't it?"

"Yes." Pansy replied, her smile turning beatific and delighted. Padma shifted slightly and Hermione saw what they were remarking so excitedly about. An engagement ring glittered on Pansy's finger, the huge diamond and the white gold band flashing in the luminescence from the balls of witchlight that spun right below the eternally moving battle scene that was painted on the ceiling.

"Oooooh, I knew it was!" Ginny exclaimed, and then drew her friend into a jubilant hug. "About time, too. We were close to locking you in the dungeons together naked. Bloody ridiculous how long it took you."

"Oh, be quiet, you." Pansy laughed, and her eyes fell on something to her right. "What on earth—is that your brother?" At Ginny's nod, her smile grew even more. "Fabulous. Those two are absolutely horrid when it comes to this stuff. He might not survive." She said it as if she couldn't wait to see the end result.

"Hmm, yes, they are, aren't they?" Ginny agreed. "But it's not just them. They've teamed up with the twins for this one, apparently." Pansy paled.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no." She moaned. "Never mind. I doubt any of us will survive."

"Now, of course you will." Draco commented from behind her, Blaise and a flustered looking Anton beside him. Hermione was almost positive that she didn't want to know what it was that they'd been whispering into Anton's ear. Probably something along the lines of 'Ten Different Ways to Practically Kill Your Lover with Bloody Ecstasy', or something as equally deranged and psychotic. Sick and twisted. Intriguing and—

"We'd never make you miss your own wedding." Blaise continued, jabbing Anton in the ribs and grinning knavishly.

"Speaking of which," Silana's voice rang out, causing them all to turn. She was standing beside Narcissa, Snape, Sirius, Molly and Arthur, who all wore serious expressions, and over Ron, who was still unconscious. "When will we get a wedding out of you three, hmm? Or is it four, now?"

"Sweet Merlin, Mother, are you serious?" Blaise asked, and the woman put a hand on her hip.

"Of course I am! We want grandbabies sometime before we die!" She said, and Blaise stared for a moment longer before turning to Ginny and Padma. Whether he was addressing one or both of them, Hermione didn't know, and it frustrated her endlessly.

"Very sorry about her." He said in a monotone voice. "Woman isn't right in the head. Let's go flying." Instead of both nodding, or only one nodding, or any sort of clue that would help Hermione in the least bit, they simply walked off with him, grabbing Draco and the twins on the way out. Blaise threw a last, withering look at his mother, who smirked at him in a way that promised the conversation was anything but over.

"Oi, Hermione!" She heard Sirius call from her left, and she faced him, returning the hug he gave her.

"Hello, Sirius." She said, a real smile curving her lips for the first time in what felt like forever. He just looked so much healthier and happier then he had when she'd last seen him. The change was almost miraculous, and as she stared at his once-again handsome face, she fancied she could finally see in him what he must have looked like at her age.

"So, Silana tells me you and Ron have been fighting. She also told me what else happened." He said, and she gave him a startled look. "Want some advice?"

"Umm, sure, I guess." Hermione agreed, and he smiled.

"First things first, don't feel bad about it. Worse things have happened and will happen again. Secondly, you won't have to worry about the school knowing unless Ron says something. The Slytherins, as a general rule, won't speak a word of it unless Anton does, and he seems a bit too preoccupied to give it much thought at the moment. So, what you need to do is corner Ron."

"Corner Ron?" She parroted, confused.

"Yep." Sirius replied, slipping a rectangular silver case out of his pocket and withdrawing a small, black cigar. He lit it with the tip of his wand and a house elf appeared with a crystal ashtray, holding it out in one hand dutifully.

"Why would I want to do that?" She asked as sweet, aromatic smoke curled out of his nostrils. He gave her a considering look.

"To threaten him within an inch of his life, of course. You're not one of the smartest girls in your school for nothing. You know more hexes then he does, I'd bet my vault on it."

"Well, I suppose I do." She said, turning the idea over in her mind. When she looked back up, Sirius was gazing around as if he'd just remembered something. "What is it?" She asked, and his eyes snapped back to her.

"Nothing, it's just…I could have sworn she'd said he'd be here…" He mumbled.

"What?" Butterflies settled in her stomach. Not good, she thought quickly, so not good. Why do I have to be the one to deal with this?

"Where's Harry?"

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Well, it's official. I'm a review whore. (sighs) So…review, please! I even put out this chapter two days early…again!