Please see chapter one for disclaimers and warnings.
Author's Note: I apologize for the length of time this chapter took, and I'm going to blame it on my move from one state to another at the beginning of this month. I assure you that subsequent chapters will be out at least every other week. This chapter is dedicated to my roomie Meg who, thank goodness, allowed me to bounce ideas off of her for a whole evening last weekend so that I could get this done. Also partially dedicated to Alex, who got to read everything yesterday and give me feedback. Also, if you'd like to be e-mail upon the update of this story, leave your e-mail address in review, or e-mail it to goddesbluewriter@netscape.net.
Fuzzily confused, Harry's gaze didn't waver for a long moment.
There was a ring where before there had been none.
This was odd.
It was a golden snake; Snake bad, Harry's mind supplied; that had twisted itself around a slender golden band. The snake had two heads, and each one viciously grabbed an end of a rather large diamond.
Harry didn't really know diamonds from glass, but…
It was a big diamond.
That was on his finger.
This… was…
For a brief moment Harry considered going back to sleep. Shaking his head to clear it of cobwebs, he examined the ring more closely. It was faintly girlish, obviously made for a dainty hand, which Harry did not have, but it fit his finger perfectly.
His nose scrunched up in confusion and he reached his right hand up to remove the ring from his left ring finger in order to bring it closer for a more detailed look.
It didn't budge.
His brow furrowed in concentration and he gripped harder.
He pulled again and, much to his dismay, the ring did not move.
Sighing, and inwardly forcing himself not to panic, Harry slipped out of bed and ignored his newest piece of jewelry. He threw on some ratty old clothes and softly padded out of his room and down the stairs until he reached the kitchen. Disregarding his Uncle's gruff "It's about time," Harry walked to the sink and turned on the warm water. He thrust his left hand under the stream for a moment, yawning over the scrape of a chair against the peeling linoleum.
"What have you got there?" his Aunt muttered, bringing a plate to the sink to rinse free and stack with the other breakfast dishes. Narrowed eyes watched as Harry pulled his hand back to his chest, dripping on the floor.
Lax fingers permitted her plate to crash into pieces in the sink as she gaped in wonder at the diamond on her nephew's finger.
Harry looked up at the sound of breaking china, momentarily giving up trying to remove the ring.
"Where did you get that?!"
There was a moment of silence, and then the scrape of two more chairs as Vernon and Dudley rushed to their sides. Harry made a sound of irritation as his hand was locked in Dudley's firm grip and he was pulled nearly a foot towards the rotund boy.
Vernon mirrored his wife's shocked outrage. "Boy, where did you get something like that? Did you steal it?" His face began to turn purple as he began to rage at Harry. "We take you into our home, and this is how your repay us? You become a thief? A pickpocket!"
"No-"
Dudley snorted, "It's a girl's ring, too! The Nancy boy's wearing a girl's ring."
"No," Harry interrupted, "I did not steal it. I just… woke up and it was there," his sentence died down in volume as he completed it and realized how weak of an excuse it had sounded. He fervently wished that he had hid his hand when arriving in the kitchen.
"A likely story-"
"But it is a girl's ring, then?"
"It's an engagement ring!" Petunia shouted, beginning to fan herself. "Oh! Whoever lost this is probably worrying herself silly!"
Vernon grabbed Harry's hand from Dudley and began working at the ring. "Doesn't seem to want to… ummph… come off, does it? Well, boy? Where did you get it?"
"I told you, I just woke up with it on this morning- ow! Would you stop?"
Letting Harry's hand fall in frustration Vernon glared at him as Petunia moved to take it up and stare at the jewelry in question. "Do you expect us to believe you… sleep walked your way out to some poor woman and stole her ring off her? You didn't burgle someone's home, did you?"
"No, actually. I suspect it was given to me by magic."
Petunia dropped his hand quickly and all three of them took a step back from him at the foul word.
Vernon's face took a quick turn back to frustrated purple from the red it had mellowed into and he pointed towards the stairs, "Back to your room, boy. Now!"
Harry shrugged, inwardly pleased at the thought of not having to do his chores that day, and trudged out of the kitchen. Behind him, Dudley had pulled himself together enough to aim one last insult his way.
"Poof!"
Harry stared down at his parchment, wincing at the words he'd just left there:
Herm,
Oddest thing happened last night. Had another dream. But I don't think it was from Voldemort as my scar didn't give a twinge. Sirius was in it. He gave me a ring, and when I woke up this morning I was wearing it. I've been informed by my Aunt Petunia that it's an engagement ring. It's golden, with two snakes and a large diamond.
What do you suppose that means?
Harry
At best, the words would make Hermione frantically search through what books she had for some mention of the ring. At worst… she'd be worried. A ring that was passed to him through his dreams?
Dreams and Harry were things that made Hermione worry already.
He crumbled up the paper and threw it in his bin, patting Hedwig's head as she tutted in annoyance when she realized he wasn't going to need her to take his letter anywhere.
Harry picked up his quill and tried again:
Ron,
Had a dream last night. Sirius was in it. Gave me a ring, which was still there when I woke up. It looks pretty… expensive.
What do you suppose that means?
Harry
Even less helpful. What was Ron supposed to tell him, other than to write Hermione or Dumbledore? He'd probably write back that it was one of Voldemort's evil plans.
For all Harry knew, it might be.
He crumbled up this paper as well and tossed it into his bin, then scribbled out two notes of about the same intent:
No trouble here. Can't wait to see you after the Summer hols are over.
Harry
He gave them to Hedwig, with another pat on the head and whispered instructions.
She flew out the window, and he grabbed one of his textbooks, determined this year at least to catch up on his studies before the school year started up again.
Narcissa Malfoy was Owled Tuesday morning with news that would change her life. It seemed that, during their preliminary search of the Malfoy vault, everything had been in order for the ministry team. Almost.
In the anteroom, not a single listed Malfoy treasure had been missing, but when they attempted to travel to the Malfoy Ambition's hidden vault, they discovered that the listed portrait of Loki Malfoy had been missing it's subject. After prying the vault door open anyway, they found that the other portraits were in a similar, unexplainable condition. They were writing to ask for one.
Also, the item that had been housed there was missing.
The Malfoy Ambition.
She'd had to re-read the letter twice to make sure her eyes had not been deceiving her, and then she screamed for Draco.
He entered their hotel room's breakfast nook with that same, permanent scowl on his face.
"Yes, Mother?"
"What did you do with the Ambition?"
Draco's brows drew together. "Nothing, Mother. Why?"
"It's missing."
"Missing?"
She could tell he was genuinely confused. "Gone." She waved her letter around and then gestured to the seat across from her. "As if it vanished in the night."
"Can it do that?" he asked, sitting.
"Well, yes. But only if you do something to it. Did you do something to it when I left you alone in the vault, Draco?"
"Like what?"
"Like… make a wish?"
Draco smirked into the piece of toast he'd taken from her breakfast plate. "I wouldn't dare. The first time you and Father took me there to see it you spent an hour telling me how serious that particular family tradition was, and then didn't even let me touch it. Remember? You were almost… paranoid about it." He chuckled. "You must have thought I'd pick it up and wish for something completely shocking."
Narcissa stared at the crumbs on her plate for a moment, uncomfortable, before smiling brightly at her son. "Quite. You… didn't wish on it, did you Draco?"
"No. Well…" and it was his turn to shift uncomfortably, which Narcissa saw.
She instantly lost her appetite and began to wish that she hadn't had so much at dinner the previous night.
"I did knock it off the table." He looked at her, abashed. "I'm sorry, I was still a bit angry, and… it fell, but I only picked it up and put it right back. No wishes were made."
She stared back at him.
"I swear, Mother."
"That's… oh dear."
"Mother?"
He'd dropped his toast and leaned in, concerned at her blank expression.
"Draco?"
"Mother?"
"I think… we had best prepare ourselves."
"For what?"
She pulled herself back from the table and fiddled with the edge of her letter, wearing it down. Her thoughts returned to the day that her son had last touched the Malfoy Ambition, and she came to the obvious conclusion that she was rather in a lot of trouble.
And that her son was probably gay.
"Oh. For a… wedding."
His hand fell with a thump to the table between them and he gaped at her in astonishment. "That's not how you told me the ring works. Don't I have to make a wish on it first before it goes off to pick a bride?"
"Supposedly," she quickly looked away from him. "Perhaps you made a wish subconsciously? Perhaps… well… it's not as if we know an awful lot about the Ambition. It's not as if Nyx Malfoy and Salazar Slytherin left behind notes, which might have been helpful. Perhaps it simply chooses who it feels is best for the role of a Malfoy bride?"
"But…" he was chewing on his lip, which she'd told him to stop doing years ago, and thrumming his fingers nervously on the table top. "I'm too young to get married! Mother!"
"Nonsense, Draco. Your father and I were married right out of Hogwarts. Yes. You'll just be engaged for a few years first. It will be beneficial to all involved."
"Why don't we just ask Nyx and Salazar, as we have their portraits conveniently located in our vault?" The anger was building in his voice again now, and caused Narcissa to level an annoyed look at him.
"Three reasons. One: The Ministry has their portraits conveniently located in our vault. Two: They are portraits, Draco, merely paint and nothing more. Three: No, we don't."
She handed him her letter and he gave her a searching look before reading it over. Irritated, he dropped the letter onto his plate.
"Why can't we assume the ring has been stolen?" There was a pleading note in that sentence almost as if he'd prefer that a priceless heirloom that had been in their family for generations would be stolen to having to be married.
She wondered why his reactions to the idea of marriage were so much the same as they had been in youth.
"Nothing has been stolen from Gringotts since it was built, Draco. Also, it's a ring, and a highly identifiable one at that. Who would be stupid enough to wear it in public without fear of getting caught, or even try to sell it?"
Petulantly, with narrowed eyes, he argued on, "that young official was looking at it as if she wanted it."
"She probably did. It would honor any woman to be given the ring."
Draco snorted, "except then she'd have had to marry me, and I got the feeling she didn't like me at all."
"Nonsense, Draco. She doesn't have to like you to marry you."
Draco stared at her for a moment, and then remembered to scowl, "could we go back to the part where I don't want to get married?"
Narcissa shook her head and offered a weary smile. "Perhaps it will provide a distraction from those affairs of your father's that have everyone so worked up."
For a moment, Draco thought that his mother seemed fragile and weak, qualities he'd never seen her display, and it made him uncomfortable, his anger weakening. His parents had begun this previous year to prove themselves fallible and he wasn't liking it one bit. His father was supposed to be powerful, intelligent, and above all of the other Wizards in their communities. His mother was supposed to be beautiful, clever, and supportive.
They were falling short of expectations.
"Maybe," he offered, and watched as she brightened.
"I think it's a brilliant thing to happen, Draco." Assuming everything went swimmingly, and those wishes her son had made so long ago had canceled each other out, as Willis had suggested at the time. "Besides, it's the best explanation we have to give to the Ministry. I'll Owl the Prophet right now," she stood to leave the room, having never been one to hesitate or back down from a challenge. Even if that damned ring picked someone unsuitable or shocking for her son, she would prefer to be gossiped about for that, rather than their political ties.
"Wait… don't you think we're moving a bit too fast, Mum?" Draco was standing to follow her out, but Narcissa wasn't listening. "Mum?"
Girls everywhere were looking at him. Hiding behind their hands and whispering. Giggling. Doing that thing with their eyes and their hair and their high, squeaky voices when they were trying to be sexy.
For most of the summer he'd been expecting to return to Hogwarts amidst a hundred weighty, suspicious glances. He'd been expecting cruel whispers and loaded statements. Jibes into his family's affairs and a restrained distance from the other students.
"Hi, Draco!"
He walked right past the girl he'd never seen before and desperately wished that everyone still hated him.
Ever since that article had been posted in the Prophet, he'd received Owl after Owl from girls who'd never seen him or even heard of him before the story had broken. Oh, it's so romantic. He'd read over and over. After that dreadful business with your father, and now you get this chance to find your true love.
True love.
What a joke.
The story seemed to give the impression that the ring picked, not a suitable Malfoy bride, but instead the perfect woman for Draco Malfoy. Which, in teenage girl speak translated to: TRUE LOVE.
Yes. Draco Malfoy was now a Wizarding World teen idol.
And he hated it.
Perhaps in years past he'd have reveled in the attention. Even now a small part of him gleefully screamed, I am perfection, and everybody wants me! But, and more importantly in his opinion, everyone also seemed to be suffering from random bouts of stupidity.
He watched in boredom as his trunk was loaded onto the Hogwarts train and cringed when several girls began to crowd around him.
"Oh, Draco, we heard all about it!" Lavender Brown sidled up beside him, and beside her the Patil sisters smirked at him.
"Yeah, Draco! It's so exciting." Parvati jumped in, "You must be thrilled. The rest of us have to date and meet people, but you get magical assistance in finding your true love. You must be so nervous. What do you think she'll be like?"
"She'll be beautiful. I was so disappointed when I read the story and realized you were off the market," Padma lamented.
I'll bet. Draco mused.
"Thank Merlin." Came a voice he hadn't expected to be mixed in with these twits.
"Granger!" He whirled on her and felt a vicious smile flow over his features, "Lovely to see you, mudblood. Were you hoping to be my perfect match too? You must be so disappointed."
"Hardly," she snorted, then sneered back at him. He took a moment to notice that she'd grown up a bit. Might even be considered attractive, if you were into snobbish harpies who always had to be right. And Gryffindors. "I'll just bet your perfect match is the vapid useless sort, snobbish and stupid. Like you."
Draco's anger picked up a bit, and he felt his cheeks redden, but she turned on her heel and walked away before he could say anything.
Didn't stop him from yelling after her.
"At least she's not going to be a buck-toothed, frizzy haired, muggle-born know it all!"
She didn't answer him, and when he looked back to Lavender and the Patil sisters, he had to smile sheepishly at their glares.
"My father's a muggle," Lavender hissed, turning on her heel and walking away from him. The Patil sisters exchanged looks and ran after her, Parvati throwing a glare back at Draco in rebuke for her housemate.
Draco felt content again.
Harry ducked his head to avoid whatever possible stares he was getting and wished desperately that his cloaks came with hoods. He pushed his cart ahead with his hip, carefully concealing his left hand in the folds of his robes, and easily evaded any suspicious or concerned looks.
Which made him suspicious and concerned.
Considering the situation in which he'd last seen many of his fellow students, he'd been expecting questions. He'd been expecting pleas. And most of all, he'd been expecting attention.
He peeked out at the train deck from under his bangs.
No one was looking at him.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Harry made his way to load up his trunk, and then forced his way past the throngs of students onto the train.
"... so romantic…"
"… engaged?"
Snatches of conversation flew by him, and he noticed that many of the boys on the train looked to be a strange mix of bored and frustrated. The girls all seemed to be giggling and gossiping, which wasn't that strange, considering that they were girls. Harry was pleased with himself to be making a clean getaway, until he, looking down at his floppy old sneakers, bumped into somebody.
"Watch where you're going… Potter." Draco Malfoy had turned to him, and for a moment the world froze. Harry had the sense of being in a movie, finally face to face with his own personal villain, ready for the battle to begin.
The corner of Draco's mouth kicked up in a smirk.
So much for the clean getaway.
"Lovely day, isn't it, Boy Wonder? Did you think that the whole train belonged to you?"
"Very funny, Malfoy. Just passing through. Excuse me."
"Where do you think you're going, Potter? Off to gossip with the Mudblood and the Weasel? I think you need to apologize to me first. It was very rude of you to go bumping into me like that."
"I have better things to do than standing around arguing with you, Malfoy." The irritation in Harry's voice was beginning to become apparent.
Draco shifted, sneering now at Harry, using this opportunity to vent the frustration of the last few weeks.
They were also drawing a bit of a crowd.
"Why? Is the Weasel going to be jealous that you're spending so much time with me?"
"I doubt it," Harry tried to affect a breezy tone, hoping to cut this conversation short. "Ron knows I have better taste than that."
Draco's cheeks pinked in anger, this being the second time a member of the dream team had gotten one over on him in the same day. He moved to cut off Harry's retreat, pressing a finger into the middle of the shorter boy's chest and pushing him back a few steps. He barely noticed when Harry made an aborted attempting to brush his hand off with his left hand.
Draco was determined to get the last word.
"You could only hope to dream that I would be your friend. You and the Weasel both. You know, jealousy is not an attractive look for you."
"Conceit isn't very pretty on you either. You'd think that since you've had so much practice with it, you'd have perfected it by now." Harry had given up trying to get away, his anger having finally been picked by Draco.
"And one would think that with all the practice you've had being a hero, you'd be able to save someone once in a while."
Draco had only heard a little bit about the circumstances concerning his father's arrest, but knew enough to know that someone had died. Someone on Potter's side.
He watched with sick pride as Harry's face grew pale and slightly green.
"Watch your mouth, Malfoy."
"Going to teach me a lesson, Potter?"
There was a moment of silence, and those who'd been watching them on the sidelines took a step back when Harry's fingers wrapped tightly around his wand. "I think that I've taught your family a lesson already this year. Are you so eager to follow in your father's footsteps?"
Draco's throat visibly clenched, and he felt the presence of Crabbe and Goyle shift behind him. He shook his head, and he felt them ease back again.
He wanted to handle this on his own.
"That's brave of you, bringing my father up now. Exactly what you'd expect of a Gryffindor. Brave stupidity."
"That's low and dirty of you, bringing up Sirius now. Exactly what you'd expect of a Slytherin."
"Of course," Draco drawled, ignoring Harry's last insult, "you never had any parents to teach you differently. I suppose you can be forgiven."
Harry sucked in his breath, suddenly hating Draco right back with more intensity than he'd ever hated anyone before in his life, including Dudley. "And you've had two parents all your life… well," he smirked, unintentionally mirroring Draco's previous cold expression, "up until now. You'd think they'd have taught you manners."
Stiffening at the insult, Draco hissed out, "Mother always said not to waste the fine china on people who are incapable of appreciating it."
"I'm 'incapable of appreciating' a lot of things about you, Malfoy. Your friends, for one," Harry sent a cold look to Crabbe and Goyle, who attempted to sneer back at him, "your personality, for another," and then he caught a movement behind Draco's lackeys, and a stormy dark face approaching them at high speeds. Smirking, he finished with a well placed, "and your girlfriend. Speak of the devil…"
"Draco Malfoy!"
Almost imperceptibly, Draco winced. "I hate you," he hissed.
Harry kept up his smirk, before turning to leave, "so you've mentioned, once or twice."
He was gone a moment later, and Draco was turning back to smile winningly at the girl who'd been attempting to win his affections for years now.
"Pansy."
"Don't 'Pansy' me, Draco. When were you planning to mention this marriage business to me?"
"Pansy, darling," he tried to placate her, "it wasn't supposed to happen for another year."
"So you were just going to string me along then?"
The crowd became even more interested in this particular conversation, and Draco was inwardly wincing. Then he had a bit of a paranoid thought. "Pansy, may I see your hands?"
Her face cleared a bit, and she brightened, bringing her hands forward at just the right distance for him to take into his own.
He turned them both over, and then, relieved, said, "Thank Merlin."
Her eyes widened, and her smile dropped, her face closing off. He realized his mistake a moment before she backhanded him.
"Don't ever speak to me again, you pig," she hissed, and walked away.
Harry slumped into the seat across from Ron, who brightened considerably.
"Harry!" his face dropped at Harry's glare. "What happened."
"Ran into Malfoy."
"The git. He said something, didn't he?"
"He always says something. It's not important-"
But Ron was already beginning to rant. "You'd think it'd be enough, with everyone talking about him all summer long. He just has to be the center of attention all the time, doesn't he?"
"Well-"
"I mean, first the thing with his father-"
"-yes-"
"And now, with that stupid-"
At this moment the car door slid open and Hermione regally made her way into their midst. Ron stopped speaking immediately, and stared at her. She'd grown up over the hols… again. And Harry watched in amusement as Ron became fascinated with their best friend.
"Ron," she inclined her head, "Harry." She sent Harry a quick smile and settled in next to a reddening Ron. "Have you heard the news about Malfoy?"
Ron nearly growled. "More news about Malfoy? No thank you."
"Oh, trust me, you'll like this one. Apparently, Pansy Parkinson just slapped him."
Harry perked up and Ron looked almost as if Christmas had come early. "Really," he breathed.
"Oh, yes, really." Hermione leaned in close to Ron, and seemed pleased with herself.
"Was she wearing rings?" Ron asked, still breathy.
"That was the problem," Hermione smirked, "she wasn't."
"Excuse me, ladies," Harry interrupted. "We have other problems than Draco Malfoy." He finally pulled his left hand from the folds of his robes, jerking his long sleeve back down to his wrist in irritation. He looked down at the ring on his finger, missing the looks of horrific disbelief that were written across his best friends' faces.
"Now," he said, almost businesslike. This wasn't the first time something strange had happened to them, and they'd worked out a certain routine to getting to the bottom of their problems. "I had a dream a few weeks ago, and Sirius was in it. I was flying on the Quidditch Pitch-"
Ron turned his shocked look on Hermione, who made a lost sound in the back of her throat.
"-and then he said, 'It's your destiny, Harry'. And the snitch just flew at me-"
Hermione turned to look at Ron, wishing she could deny what was happening for him. "Um… Harry…"
"-Just a minute, 'Mione. So the snitch kinda melts into this gooey light, and flows down my hand, and when I wake up this ring is there. And it won't come off. And I think it's a diamond. But it must mean something, right? Do you think it's really from Sirius, guys? Guys?"
"Harry." Hermione struggled to form a coherent sentence, but found her eyes widening again when Ron darted forward to grab Harry's left hand with his own. His right hand slipped down to his boot, and tugged free a switchblade.
"Hold still, Harry. There's nothing for it, he'll have to cut off his finger."
Harry panicked, and tried to pull his hand back from Ron's grasp, "No! No, I think we might have some other option to self-mutilation!"
"I really think self-mutilation is our only answer at this point."
"Freeze, Ronald Weasley. Where on earth did you get that knife?" Hermione gently eased Harry's hand away from Ron, who looked down at his knife, distracted and a bit proud.
"Charlie gave it to me," and then he remembered why he had it out, "but that's not important right now."
"Harry," Hermione cut Ron off, "I don't suppose you've been reading the papers?"
Harry, giving Ron a wary look, shook his head. "No. You know I canceled my subscription last year."
"That's dangerous, Harry. You need to know what's going on."
"What is going on," Harry questioned her. And then his eyes narrowed. "Do I want to know?"
"No." Ron groused, slipping his knife back into his boot. "I think you really don't."
"Ron," Hermione glared at him, and then smiled winningly at Harry. "I think you should know that I love you no matter what, Harry."
"Oh no."
"But… it looks as if you're engaged to Draco Malfoy."
Ron slumped down into his seat and Harry squinted at Hermione. "What?"