Someday, I will own something of great value. This will not be Harry Potter, as J K Rowling already owns it.

December

The end of November and the first three weeks of December went exactly the same. Umbridge finished the rest of her inspections, Ryua started falling behind in homework again, Pansy strutted around like she owned the dorm, and Draco followed her like a stallion on an in-season mare. Ryua had started dictating some of her longer essays to Dobby again, and was trading chocolate bars for homework from Ashley and Cassie. Umbridge had moved on to her left hand on December tenth, when the white bone showing through Ryua's cuts was too obvious for even her to ignore. This was a blessing in more ways than one, because the quill automatically reset to the back of her hand, and she wrote much slower with her left. Of course, it didn't take long to catch up, but at least there was no underlying injury on this hand to interfere.

She did miss one DA meeting, simply because eighteen out of nineteen people having the available night was too good to pass up. The two she got to though, she made no bones about wrapping her bleeding hand in bandages. Neville was astounded to see her miss one shot, because she was off-handed and in pain. He immediately tried using his true good hand, and his accuracy went up at an astounding rate from then on in.

Quidditch called for bandages too, although those were hidden under mitts. The cold still bit down to the bone, but at least no one else was particularly comfortable either. The team was practicing as hard as ever at least, and hadn't pulled any stupid stunts since word spread of what she had done to Pansy. Somehow (cough, Umbridge, cough), word had leaked out that she'd killed Zabini too, and now everyone avoided her. Except Cassie, who was as cheerful as ever, and the rest of the team, who figured they were vital enough to her personal plans not to be killed off. Good enough. They were the only ones she cared about. And they proved why when they absolutely flattened Hufflepuff in their match.

Up in the Gryffindor tower, with the roaring fires, friendly games, and the occasional demonstration by Fred and George, things were a lot more cheerful. Ron told Harry and Hermione that Mrs. Weasley had invited them to stay over Christmas, Neville was doing incredibly well in DA, and Harry and Ron were even passing Potions, thanks to Ryua's tutoring. "Hmm, speaking of Ryua, can she make it to tomorrow's meeting? Check, by the way…" Ron asked, moving his Bishop up the chessboard.

"Yes, she said she's got Fridays and Saturdays off, remember?" Hermione said, reading a book.

"Good…" Harry said distractedly, trying to figure out why Ron had moved such a good piece right beside his Castle. It must be a trap. Even I couldn't miss the opportunity to take the piece… but he's got to have a trap set somewhere…

"…Harry are you even paying attention to me?" Hermione said, having put down her book after three minutes of trying to talk to him.

"Hmm? Hermione, did Ron set a trap here?"

"Ugh. I'm going to bed," she said, stomping upstairs.

"Ron? What was that about?"

"No idea mate. You gonna move, or what?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Knowing very well that he was walking right into a trap he couldn't see, Harry moved his Castle over one space and it clubbed the bent little bishop across the board, forcing two pawns and a knight to duck out of the way. Ron nudged his knight (His favorite piece, why, why don't I watch it more?), which did a spectacular leap over Harry's castle, and landed squarely on top of the king.

"Checkmate!" Ron crowed. He stretched, and looked around the room for people to brag to. "Man, where'd everyone go?"

"Bed. It's late, Ron."

"Oh well, we've only got one more day. Then, we can sleep all we want." He summoned his bishop from under the chair, piling his battered pieces into the equally battered case. "So, what're we doing for the meeting?"

"Just review. There's no point in starting something new when everyone leaves for three weeks. It's not like we're thinking of much more than eating, sleeping, and presents anyway."

"I think Cho's got more on her mind," Ron said slyly.

"What? No…" Harry said, forcing his own struggling pieces into their case.

"Yes… even I've noticed it, mate. So, are you gonna go for it?"

"Go for what?"

"Well, she'll be at the DA meeting, I'm sure. And you know how much mistletoe the elves hang up around the school."

Harry coughed slightly, then said, "I'm going to bed."

Later that night, just before Harry was fully asleep, he heard Ron whisper, "Sweet dreams…" If I had more ambition, I'd throw a pillow…

At the same time, Ryua was writing out I will act as befits my station left handed for what she ferverently hoped would be the last time. She glanced up to see the clock strike eleven, slammed down her quill, and took off, not waiting for Umbridge to dismiss her. Down the hall, into the bathroom where she'd hidden fresh bandages and numbing cream which came by owl earlier that month. Bandages wrapped, extra blood washed from her fingers and wrist, and back out the door. She knew she should sleep, but was way too worked up.

Instead, she picked up her winter cloak from the Entrance Hall, slipping on gloves and a hat as she went. The sky was clear, with the stars shining down, and a nearly full moon illuminating the snow. No wind, and although the air had quite a bite to it, a perfect night for a workout. Ryua unlocked the broom closet. As a Quidditch captain, her fingerprint was keyed to the door, one of the few people in the school who could open it whenever she wanted. She pulled out her own broom, and took off as soon as she latched the door.

Maybe not as good as cursing something, but the next best thing. And legal too. There was nothing like a good flight to clear her head, and calm her nerves. She spent a full hour out there, looping the quidditch poles, rocketing up until the air got too thin to breathe, diving down within a foot of the ground, shooting through the forbidden forest, dodging birds, squirrels, and an angry centaur. It was only after she was skimming the lake, looking at her shadow on the snow, catching glimpses of the giant squid under the wind-swept places, that her hands started to throb from the cold. And at the broom closet, she noticed her face, the parts not covered by her hat and scarf, were completely numb and oddly prickly.

The rest of her, however, felt great. Ryua's mind was still soaring through the moonlight, her body fully tired by the long, cold flight. And best of all, her bed actually felt warm compared to the icy air outside.

Morning came far too early, of course, but she was bolstered by the fact that there was just one day left. And the day actually went good. Cassie force-fed her blueberry pancakes, chatting happily all the while, Flitwick took pity on them and postponed the essay until after Christmas, McGonnagall complemented her on her kneazle transfiguration… it just kept going well.

Until just before the DA meeting. Umbridge apparently wanted to quash any Christmastime romances, and had sent out all prefects to patrol the hallways. Hermione, Ron, and Justin begged off sick, of course (got to love Fred and George's skiving snackboxes…), but that didn't mean that it was any easier for Ryua to sneak up from the dungeons. She was nearly caught once, and a second time by Pucey, who didn't bother to ask where she was going. This early in the evening, it didn't matter if she was out, but she knew questions would be asked. Slytherins kept to themselves, they didn't wander around the school proper.

It was a good meeting once everyone arrived, though. Harry divided everyone up, and they all had a grand old time jinxing each other around the room. Ron and Hermione were actually flirting, if Ryua could believe her eyes. Neville disarmed, properly stunned, and even managed a jelly-legs jinx. Dobby, apparently, had set out a whole lot of snacks as well as decorations, and it turned into a much more festive occasion than usual.

All too soon, nine-o'clock rolled around, and people tricked out by ones and twos. "What's with all the prefects and teachers out tonight?" Harry muttered as he waved two Hufflepuffs out the door.

"Umbridge. She decided to try and catch any Christmas lovebirds and hand out some detentions for January." Ryua said, stacking pillows.

"You've got one Slytherin, three Ravenclaw prefects, Peeves, and Snape and Umbridge between you and the dungeons."

"Wonderful. Well, if Peeves is down there he's a good distraction, and Snape and the Slytherin prefect should be easy to get around…"

"That still leaves you three prefects and Umbridge. And Peeves is just as likely to turn you in as anything. And didn't you say Pansy confiscated your lethifold?"

Ryua grimaced, putting the last of the books on the shelf. "Yeah… I should be able to get around them. If all else fails, I'll just curse them!"

"Don't you think that's a bit risky?"

She considered, as Harry waved the Fred, George, and Ginny out. "Well, maybe. I really, really don't need any more detention…"

"Okay, I'll take you down."

"We'll clean up and send the rest home, Harry," Hermione said as she came over to take the Marauder's Map.

"Good. Come on." Harry pulled out his cloak and covered the both of them. Ryua had to stifle a giggle as Umbridge walked right past them and didn't even blink. Harry elbowed her side to shush her, but she saw him grinning too. The temptation to send a stinging hex onto her ample rear was almost too good to overcome, but one of the Ravenclaw prefects came around the corner at the last second. With a huge, mock sigh, she pocketed her wand, thinking how much she'd have enjoyed it.

They passed two more prefects down to the common room. "Harry… why do you know where my common room is?" Ryua whispered.

"Hmm? You were leading."

"No, I wasn't."

He looked up and down the corridor. "Okay, in the second year, Hermione brewed up a polyjuice potion. We wanted to find out if you or Draco were the Heir."

"Ah! I thought Crabbe and Goyle seemed a little off that day…"

"Yeah, we didn't do the world's best acting job… what's that on the ceiling?"

"On the ceiling? We're in the dungeons, probably moss." Ryua looked up. "Huh. Mistletoe. Snape must have missed…"

She was cut off by the gentle pressure of Harry's mouth on hers. She wouldn't have been more stunned from a full body bind. Her eyes slowly closed, and just as she started to relax, he pulled away with a whispered oath. Ryua's eyes flew open, and she heard footsteps coming down the corridor. She whipped off the cloak and shoved him down the hallway, hissing the password at the wall. Just as whoever it was rounded the corner, she slipped in and went directly to her bed. With Pansy out on patrol, she at least didn't have to worry about answering any awkward questions.

What was that? Ryua wondered as she changed numbly into her pajamas. Harry? I thought he liked Chang… And she was so obviously waiting for him tonight. She rolled into bed, thoughts whirling, and activated the heating web she'd slipped under the covers.

He was so… gentle… I didn't know… All her life, touch usually equaled pain. Lucius hit and cursed her, her mother just hugged her when she felt it was necessary to act motherish, even Draco and Marcus had only touched her to fix something painful. Either they inflicted painful damage, pain during healing, pain by accident… In her experience, people didn't touch for any other reason. Even a friendly clap on the back was rough, often painful, a handshake was so often a test of strength…

And Zabini… well, add that one up. Even for someone raised in a gentle, loving environment, that was a horrifying experience. For someone who already didn't trust physical contact… it went past that. She'd never, ever, for a minute thought that any of that could ever be good. But… Harry… why Harry? We're from opposing houses, opposing sides… and yet we've been friends… and now, he kisses me. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Ah, but you liked it… Shut up. Does it really matter what his motives were? Go away. I'm not having this conversation. You're friends, and he happened to notice mistletoe… I'm not listening to you. So where does that put you? I… it's none of your business… Ryua, you know you're losing it when you argue with yourself. Shut up. You started it. And anyway, it's way too dangerous.

That did shut up the stupid little voice. Ryua didn't want to contemplate what her father would do if he found out she was friends with Harry, let alone… what? What were they? It was just an innocent kiss between friends under the mistletoe. Nothing to worry about. Nonetheless, she kept flashing back, the feeling of his soft, hesitant lips… the barest brush of his hand on her back before he heard footsteps… No. Stop it. Don't think about it. You're going home tomorrow, and if you go home like this, they'll know something's wrong, they'll ask, and ask, and Lucius'll get it out of you eventually…She chanted this in her head, trying to convince herself. Of course, there was that stubborn little memory, a part of her mind never used… a gentle kiss, a light, interrupted caress…

Harry opened the portrait to the Gryffindor common room to find Ron and Hermione sitting there. "About time. Honestly, does it take that long to get down to the dungeons?" Hermione asked, knitting a red and green elf hat.

"Uh… yeah. Um, had to avoid Mrs. Norris you know…"

"Harry, you okay?" Ron asked, while managing to take up all of one couch.

"Yes…"

"He's right, you seem a little off. Did Luna's befuddlement charm work too well?"

"No… I'm just a little tired…"

Something happened then, that hadn't ever happened before. The light of comprehension dawned in Ron's eyes while Hermione was still looking confused. "You kissed her."

"…Who?"

"Umbridge. Ryua, you idiot. You remember, the girl you so nicely took down to the dungeons in your cozy invisibility cloak…"

Hermione actually put down her hat. "You did?" she squeaked.

"Er… yeah…"

"HA!" Ron yelled, startling Trevor out from under a chair. "So, how was it?"

"Actually… she seemed kind of shocked…"

"Well of course she did!" Hermione said, looking him over worriedly. "She didn't curse you, did she?"

"No…"

"C'mon, Hermione, this is great! What're you so worried about?"

"You…" she trailed off, mind whirling. "You have to promise never, ever to tell anyone what I'm going to say. She made me promise not to tell."

"Okay."

"You've probably heard by now that she killed Zabini, right?"

"Yeah, some rumor huh?" Ron said, still giddy.

"It's true."

"What? Why'd she do that?"

"Because… oh… she's going to kill me for this… he tried to…" she ground to a halt, throat working

"Hermione… you can't just stop in the middle of a story like that."

"She made me promise not to tell you, she wanted me to say it was in self defense…"

Harry, who lived in the muggle world where girls didn't have magical protection and such things were blared across the news, got it first. "No. He wasn't that dumb, was he?"

"Yeah, I guess he was."

Ron looked blankly between them. "What? I'm feeling kind of out of the loop here…"

"I can't believe how stupid I was. I'm lucky she didn't panic and kill me… If Zabini actually did that…"

"Yes, but she actually likes you, Harry. Zabini… she loathed him, as much as you hate Snape, and to have him touch her… The Ministry judged it an accidental death, of course, she didn't mean to do it."

By now, even Ron was starting to catch on. "Ouch. You are lucky to be alive."

"I can't believe I did that to her. She's going to hate me… she's probably wondering how I dared invade her space like that right now… reviewing all her extensive torture methods…"

"Come on mate, cheer up. If she really wanted to kill you, she'd have done it then, regardless who was watching."

"Yes, she did it through stone manacles and no oxygen last time. I don't think she really wants to kill you over it… although you should probably talk to her after Christmas… Right now though, we should all get some sleep." Hermione said, heading up to the girls' dorms.

"Yeah…" Harry gulped, absently stopping Trevor from bouncing into the fireplace.

"So… you never really told me how it was…"

"Ron!"

"What? Obviously it was pretty good, you looked a bit floaty coming in the door." He grinned. "So, are you gonna do it again?"

"Well… that all depends on whether she kills me or not, doesn't it?"

Author's Note: Yay! This particular little thing was the first reason I really wanted to write the story. I'm so happy; I'm finally into the parts I actually wanted to write now.

And to top it off, I finally got some drawings online. Illustrations, and a few doodles. So, if you want to take a look (please… pretty please with a chocolate frog on top), I'm on www . mediaminer . org, with the name Ryua. Thanks to all of you who gave me suggestions for that!