Disclaimer: This will be my *last* disclaimer, as I've gotten tired of typing them all the time. Everything but the plot is property of Miss JK Rowling.

Chapter 8

Now, I doubt many of you are well informed about my exploits on the broom. You know all about the *great* James Potter, legendary chaser of the Brave, Daring, Gryffindors. But you know nothing about the Slytherins, and *their* greatness. After all, we've always been a people passionate, even obsessive, about anything that had to do with greatness and power.

Naturally, as I was (then, at least) the Quidditch Captain *and* keeper of the Slytherin team, I have no qualms about saying I'm a good flier. Because I am. We'd won the Quidditch Cup 3 years in a row already, all thanks to me.

Back to the story. The footsteps, which had sounded distant at first, were coming closer and closer now. "Are you coming?" I shouted, over the wind. I was already on my broomstick, right outside the window. She had half a moment of indecision, before she clambered up the windowsill and climbed on behind me.

We flew, or, more accurately, zoomed, above the Forbidden Forest. She didn't scream, or shriek, even as I accelerated forward. This was actually quite a surprise. I'd taken many, many girls out for moonlit rides (however, unlike this one, those were well planned), and I hadn't expected her to be any different from the rest of them. Was this *the* Gryffindor Grit people spoke of? Probably not, though, since I'd taken more Gryffindor girls out than I could count. Well, it wasn't *my* fault I was the handsomest man in all of Hogwarts, and they just couldn't keep their hands off me.

I stopped the broomstick, and turned around to catch a glimpse of her. There could have been a halo around her head, just then. Maybe there was, with the way the moonlight seemed to *settle* around her, instead of *fall upon* her, they way it would anybody else.

The full weight of my thoughts came upon me. Why was I thinking about this filthy little mudblood? But-she didn't *look* filthy.

When I think about it sometimes, I know she never did. Not then, and not now.

She looked---

"Beautiful."

"What?" I said, afraid she'd read my mind. That was physically impossible, of course, even in the wizarding world. But being around her and thinking *nice* thoughts about her made me feel just a little bit jumpy.

"The Forbidden Forest. It's beautiful, don't you think?" My cool façade was back on before I knew it. I'd gotten so used to this mask, I'd forget it was a mask in the first place.

"I suppose it is. But it's beauty is nothing at all compared to what" I paused, "or *who* I'm looking at right now." I said, smoothly. The old Malfoy charm. They always fell for this one. She didn't swoon, or giggle, or kiss me. But she smiled. That was enough for me. Wait, what was I thinking? *Enough*? For *me*? Since *when* did Lucius Malfoy *need* anything?

"You flatter me, Lucius."

"Only with the truth." I said, and meant it, for some strange reason. But then, that was understandable, since she *was* beautiful. I still couldn't help but think that there was something wrong with me. As a rule, I was always nice when I was charming girls, but this *niceness* felt. . . more real. I coughed, in an attempt to shake off this horrifyingly *sweet* moment. "I should get you back to bed. Your Gryffindor friends might think I've kidnapped you. Now, where's the window to your room?"

She pointed to the right of me, and, in doing so, her arm brushed against mine. It was all less than a second, really. But something *happened* to me. I didn't know what.

I flew over to the ledge, and she climbed back through the window.

"A goodnight kiss, perhaps?" I teased. She laughed and kissed me lightly on the cheek. Me, being. . . well, *me*, wanted much, much more than that. But then again, she was only a fifth year, and that wouldn't have been right (since *when* did I care about the rightness and wrongness of things?) I was quite disgusted with myself.

"You can come in, if you like." I realized then that I'd been standing, my broom floating beside me, on the ledge outside the window for quite some time already. And, to top it all off, scowling like a child. "We can't make too much noise, though. Everyone else is asleep already."

As fore mentioned, I had a very dirty little 18 year old mind. Did she *know* what she was inviting? Probably not, I thought, fairly disappointed. She was much too innocent to know what she was actually saying. She'd probably invited me because she felt sorry for me, poor, sulky Little Lucius, alone with the world.

"Er, no, that's okay, I have to go already. I might drift off to sleep during Binns' goblin rebellion discussion tomorrow morning." Blast! I'd ruined my chance! The saner part of my mind asked *What chance? You want to watch her sleep?* For a moment, I wondered how she looked like asleep. I could almost see her there, curled up in bed, a foot peeking out of the blankets. Her hair would probably be a tangle of red, the curls spread around her head like a-- I shook that thought off, as I'd shaken off many other disturbing ones of her. I gave her a brief nod (something she returned with a smile; I felt like a prat when I turned around without smiling back), mounted my broom, and headed back to the Slytherin Dormitory.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, as I also hope you will REVIEW *hint hint*

Thanks to:

Krysly: Say hi to Kimmie for me too! And give her a huggie for me : ) I do have a couple of chapters already written, but I've still got to edit them, etc. And tell your friend to review if she ever does decide to read it! : )

Addy: A second review! Thanks so much : ) Lucius is fun to write, since he's so evil in a funny, good way : ) If such a thing exists, anyway (*evil* in a *good* way?)