Ryan: Thanks for the review; I love your comments. Yes, it is getting hard to tell, isn't it.
Chantelle: Thanks for the review. It's nice to know that people care.
"Now, let's see." Aine murmured, flicking through the book. "There has te be some way te get rid of this curse." She quickly scanned the page.
The only way to get rid of a curse, when one has been cursed by the faeries, is to commit some selfless act. This does not include something that will help you, but benefit them too. It has to be done without thinking about it.
"'Ow am I supposed to commit a selfless act, if I don't even ken tha' I'm doin' it?" She exclaimed.
"That's why it's called a selfless act. Because it's done on instinct." Ginny said, walking into the room. Aine's head jerked up.
"'Ello, Ginny." She said.
"Why do you need to perform a selfless act?" Ginny asked.
"No reason." Aine lied. "I've got to go. G'bye, Ginny." She hurried out, taking the book with her.
~*~
"There's something odd about her." Ginny announced, sitting down on the loveseat beside Harry. Harry looked at her awkwardly. She didn't pay any attention.
"Something odd about who?" Ron asked.
"Whom." Hermione corrected.
"Who cares? What's odd?"
"Aine. There's something odd about her."
"What's odd?" Harry asked.
"I don't know." A frown creased her forehead. "I just can't figure it out. There's just… something wrong about her. She seems too old, don't you think? And just now, when I walked into the Dorm room, to put back the book you lent me, Herm, she was muttering about how was she supposed perform a selfless act if she didn't even know she was doing it."
"That could mean anything." Hermione said. "If there's something odd, we'll just have to watch her."
"What about her standing up in the middle of DADA, and saying that You-Know-Who is back?" Ron asked. "Doesn't that strike you as odd?"
"Well…" Hermione didn't seem willing to comment.
"I don't care what you say, Hermione. I'm going to watch her closely from now on." Ginny said determinedly.
~*~
"Oof!" Aine walked right into someone, and both she, and the tower of books. That same someone leant down, and helped her up.
"Are you alright?" A concerned male voice asked. Aine's head snapped up immediately.
"Draco Malfoy?" She asked sharply.
"Yes." His voice had changed back to the icy tones she was used to. "Look, why do you call me Draco Malfoy? Either Draco or Malfoy, make up your mind."
"Fine. I'll call you Draco. I don't feel comfortable calling you Big Mistake in Latin, or Bad Faith in French." She said. "Dragon's so much nicer." He smirked.
"You care about what's nice?"
"Bite me." She grabbed the books, and swept off.
***
What is it about that boy that frustrates me so? Aine wondered as she walked to her favourite spot in the Library. He's just…I don't know how to describe it. She sat down, and began to read.
***
"Get out of my seat." A sharp voice snapped. Aine's head jerked up.
"Excuse me?" She said, looking at the blonde Slytherin in front of her.
"I said, Get out of my seat." She hissed. "Before things get ugly for you."
"And 'ow could ye make them ugly?" Aine asked coolly.
"Believe me, I could."
"'Ave you forgotten tha' I knocked out both of yer Beaters in the Quidditch match last week?"
"No. But I'm a lot stronger than those two bone heads." She cracked her knuckles menacingly.
"Just try it, ye misbegotten carpet-snake." The girl raised her hand, and slapped Aine across the face. Moments later, a pink hand mark appeared. Aine raised one eyebrow.
"Tha' the best ye can do?" She asked, managing quite easily to ignore the pain. After all, she'd suffered worse. The girl's eyes narrowed, and she leapt at Aine, landing on top of her, and pushing over the chair. Someone's rough hands pulled her off. The girl struggled, and kicked. Madam Pince had heard the ruckus.
"What's going on over here?" She snapped. Her beady eyes took in the scene. Aine, lying flat on her back with a mark on her cheek, and mussed up robes. Draco, with messy hair, and the other girl, standing to one side. Her mind jumped to the most obvious conclusion. "A Gryffindor and a Slytherin fighting? Not in my Library! Miss Fey, Mr. Malfoy, detention!" She wrote out the slips. "You can help the house-elves in the Kitchens." She swept off.
***
"This is so unfair." Draco grumbled. Aine rolled her eyes, and pushed back a curly strand of hair.
"'Onestly. It's not tha' bad. Lighten up." She cracked an egg the muggle way, and poured it into the mixture. They'd been instructed by an odd house-elf named Dobby to make a chocolate cake. Supposedly, two students were having a private dinner in the Kitchens. Aine was quite happy with this arrangement; she loved baking.
"Yes it is. We're being made to cook. Cook! Like common house-elves!"
"Wha' do ye think people 'oo are too poor for 'ouse-elves do? And wha' about when 'ouse-elves were only for the Kings and Queens? Do ye think they just starved?"
"Yeah, but…" He scowled. Aine flicked some of the mixture at him.
"Take a chill pill." She said. He flicked it back.
"Don't throw the batter." He said. She chucked a piece of chocolate at him, and soon they were engaged in an all out war. Suddenly, Aine's foot slipped on some egg yoke that was on the ground. Her ankle twisted under her, and with a muffled cry, she fell. Draco caught her quickly, with reflexes born from Quidditch. She smiled up at him, feeling a strange flutter in her chest. He smirked. That look was too much, and she looked away, at the strange clock on the wall. She gulped.
"Sugar! The cake!" She gasped, and twisted out of his grasp. She hurried over to the oven, using her Changeling powers to cast a magical pain barrier around her throbbing ankle, so she could walk on it. She hated her stupid weak ankles. She pulled it out, and was pleased to see that it was cooked to perfection. "Perfect." She said, touching it gently in the middle, and noticing that it sprang back. She took the bowl of mocha icing, and iced it carefully, making sure to cover the sides as well. Then, she dipped her finger into the bowl, and licked the mocha-flavoured sugar off. "Mmm, yum." She said, swirling her tongue around her finger. Are you flirting with him? A voice in the back of her mind said sharply. Her eyes widened, and she bolted.
***
What was that all about? She wondered. Why did I just flirt with Draco? She felt the odd fluttering again, and was horrified when she recognised it. Shit! I'm in love with Draco Malfoy! Aine had only ever been in love once before in the time she'd been immortal. His name had been Luke. He'd had blonde hair as well, but his eyes had been brown, and full of laughter. He'd been so easy to love, so easy to cherish. She knew she couldn't give him up. But it had been taken out of her hands. He'd found out what she was, and, like the average superstitious Irish man, he'd condemned her for it. She'd felt as if her heart was breaking and she'd vowed, from that day on, that she'd never fall in love again. Love hurt too much. She hadn't thought it would be hard. After all, her heart was shattered by Luke's rejection. But somehow, over the passage of time, it had healed, and she'd inadvertently given it to the worst person, Draco Malfoy.