AN: O-kay. This is where that wonderful thing called 'creative license' comes into play. Because this chapter is the true beginning of the OOC-ness for the storyline. So…:crosses fingers: I hope you like it! Enjoy!

Chapter 9: Confrontation

After seeing Seraphim back to her room, Harry decided to sit up on the Astronomy tower. He wasn't quite sure he liked the idea of Seraphim trying to win Malfoy over. He had doubts; could Malfoy really make her happy? Or would he, and perhaps Ron, have to break a neck or two when the whole thing was over? Harry was snapped out of his reverie when the sound of boots clacking on the stone floor alerted him that he would soon have a visitor.

Draco Malfoy, apparently on his prefect rounds, turned the corner, spotted Harry, and scowled. "Well Potter, what are you doing out of bed?"

"Curfew is late tonight Malfoy, on account of the ball, you can't write me up," replied Harry wearily.

"I have better things to do with my time," the blonde snorted.

"It doesn't look like it," replied Harry, rising. The other boy's glare shot through him like fire. All at once, Harry could see clearly why Malfoy had an obvious aversion to him. It was like in their fourth year when Ron hadn't spoken to him except Malfoy's jealousy had had over five years to accumulate. Harry was the golden boy; he had fiercely loyal friends, was hero-worshipped by much of the wizarding community without even trying, Dumbledore's pet, the best on a broomstick the school had seen in who knew how long, and, seemingly, he had Malfoy's love interest wrapped around his finger.

"I don't want to have to hex you right now, Potter," snapped the Slytherin.

"That makes two of us." Harry dusted off his pants. "You're a bit touchier tonight though, aren't you?"

Malfoy growled. "That's none of your business, Potter."

"It is my business. You have your eye on Seraphim," Harry stated plainly, "and I want to make sure it's for the right reasons."

Malfoy looked taken aback. His mouth moved wordlessly before he set his jaw. "I don't want your girl and…and if I did, I wouldn't ask you for advice." The blonde smirked. "Though she is quite delicious. A wonderful piece of ass."

Harry blanched. "Is that all girls are to you, Malfoy? Pretty faces?"

"Oh no, Potter. She's got a temper to match Granger's," another smirk graced his features. "She'd only be good for one night of course. Disciplining her would be far too much work." He waited for a reaction.

"You're terrible. You filthy scum," Harry yanked Malfoy forward by his cloak, "don't you ever talk about Seraphim that way again, is that understood?" he enunciated clearly; his voice was soft but the cold harshness of it was not to be mistaken. Having no siblings himself, Harry protected his friends as if they were his family; at that moment, he felt his surrogate older sister needed quite a bit of protecting.

"Get off of me, Potter," Malfoy attempted to wrench his clothes from Harry's grip.

"No, you listen. You stay away from her. I don't want you to hurt her in any way," Harry glared menacingly. "Is that clear?"

The Slytherin snorted, "Clear as crystal."

"I mean it, don't you touch her," Harry repeated.

"I'll do what I want, Potter. You're not my mother." Malfoy finally succeeded in freeing himself from Harry's vice like grip and stumbled a few feet away.

"You don't deserve her, Malfoy. She wanted to give you a chance but I'm not falling for it. You can pull the wool over her eyes, but not mine. I don't want you near her," Harry seethed.

"Is that because you want her all for yourself, hey Potter?" Malfoy's jaw was shaking. So Potter didn't think he was good enough, huh? Since when did his opinion matter? Since when had the golden boy dictated the life of a Malfoy? Since when?

"I don't want her for myself."

Malfoy couldn't help the sharp "What?" that escaped his lips.

"I don't want her for myself. But I don't want her to get hurt and that is what you'll do to her. She thinks she can change you. We both know that's a silly wish. Our plan tonight was stupid; going to the ball together hoping that you'd be jealous and whisk her away from me." Harry stalked forward, trapping the Slytherin in a corner. "You didn't see the look of disappointment in her eyes when you walked away without looking back. You didn't hear her voice her opinion that she just wasn't good enough. You didn't see any of it."

Malfoy paled at the rage evident in Harry's eyes. He was lucky that Hermione had stopped Ron from walking back with Harry and Seraphim; if she hadn't, he might have been dead.

"I saw!" Harry exclaimed. "I saw. And now you say you think of her as just a pretty face? How dare you! You-"

"I don't think of her as just a pretty face," said Malfoy quietly.

"Oh, right," Harry continued. "You think she had a temper too. Well, let me tell you that-"

"That's not what I meant."

Harry stopped and stared.

"That's not what I meant. I…" Malfoy set his jaw, "just leave me alone Potter."

"No. What did you mean?" Harry inquired, blocking Malfoy's escape path.

"She's not just a pretty face. She foolishly attempted to give me a second chance, more than once," the blonde began. "Just let me go."

"No. Explain to me," Harry ordered, grabbing Malfoy's shoulders.

"Why?"

"Because you like her and I want to know why. Or else, I swear, if I find out you've done something stupid to hurt her, I'll hex you into oblivion," the Gryffindor threatened.

Malfoy hung his head in silence. "She gave me a second chance. She wanted to be friends. She thought I could make something…more positive of myself," he laughed, a hollow laugh. "I thought she was crazy but now…I want her to be right. I want to prove myself to her," he stared intently at Harry's right shoulder. "I want her to give me another second chance."

Harry stared…and stared…and stared. He was thinking hard. Malfoy's confession was so sincere, so heartfelt, and so distinctly un-Malfoy. But it was Malfoy. Malfoy couldn't be trusted. Malfoy had managed to hurt Seraphim once already; did Harry really want to chance it again? Was her possible happiness worth another mistake? Damn his Gryffindor-ness. Taking a deep breath, Harry loosed his hold on the other boy's shoulders. "She's pacing on the balcony of the library."

A look of disbelief crossed Malfoy's face as he lifted his head to look at Harry.

"Don't make me change my mind. She likes you, who knows why, and I want her to be happy so I'm giving you this second chance. Don't screw up."

An unspoken agreement passed between the two former enemies. So long as Malfoy could prove himself to Seraphim, Harry would accept the relationship. And Malfoy…well, they'd see about him.

The Slytherin dashed off to the library. Harry retrieved the Marauder's Map from behind a pillar; tapping it softly, he murmured, "Mischief managed," and sighed, hoping he'd done the right thing.

His heavy boots pounded the stone floors as he raced to the library. Another chance, he wouldn't mess it up. Failure was not an option. He was going to be accepted. He was going to succeed.

Entering the library, he brushed wisps of silvery-gold from his eyes and caught his breath. Crossing the floor, the thumping of his feet muffled by the carpet, he reached the balcony. Standing, partially hidden by a particularly tall bookcase, he watched her. She hadn't taken the time to change out of her costume. Silver ribbons trailed after her as she paced back and forth. Her satin slippers silenced the shuffle of her feet. Her hair had come undone and flowed after her in dark wisps like smoke. With the moon shining down on the otherwise empty balcony, she truly looked her namesake, Seraphim.

He stepped quietly onto the balcony. Lost in thought, Seraphim continued her pacing, not noticing her visitor. Slowly, he made his way to her, closing the distance between where she turned and where he stood. Finally, she stopped and sunk to the floor, her back facing her visitor.

Not daring to breathe, Draco continued his slow, hesitant walk to the unmoving figure. She sat silently, looking through the short pillars that held up the balcony railing. Kneeling noiselessly behind her, he placed his hands on her bare shoulders. She drew in a sharp breath and stiffened. Draco marveled at the softness of her skin. How was it that girls managed to have such soft, smooth skin? He inhaled deeply; and how did their hair smell so good? She smelled like vanilla and brown sugar with a hint of cinnamon. It matched, sweet and slightly mysterious. So feminine compared to him.

Seraphim turned slowly, eyes widening when she realized who had caught her alone. She had a scared rabbit look that pained Draco. That look was for him. God, he was stupid sometimes. Even so, her eyes were really something. The thin ring of sky-blue that revealed who and what she was offset plain chocolate brown. They were trusting eyes; eyes filled with something akin to betrayal. They offered the world for nothing and nothing for the world.

"What are you doing here?"

Words failed him. What could he say? "I…"

"Malfoy?"

"My name is Draco," he said softly, looking down.

Seraphim bit her lip. What was he doing? "Why are you…what are you doing here?" she asked again.

He needed something to fill the silence, anything. He kissed her. Dragged his hands over her shoulders to her neck, pulling her up to him. Enjoyed the sweet little sigh she made as her eyelids fluttered closed, as her reflexes dominated her coherent thought. Melted at the feel of her lips, her taste and smell, the slight pressure he felt on his own lips that told him she was kissing back. Felt her arms as they circled his neck, pulled him closer, crushed their lips together. The comforting feeling that finally, finally, he'd done the right thing.

Seraphim's eyes snapped open, realization dawning. Quickly disengaging herself from the kiss, she scooted backwards, horrified. "No," she murmured. Her voice was strangled, unsure. "No!"

The words pierced like daggers. Malfoy met her gaze. "What?"

"No. Please, don't do this to me," Seraphim rose unsteadily. "Just leave me alone."

For the first time, Malfoy saw the faint tear stains on her cheeks. "Why?" confusion crossed his features.

"You wouldn't understand, I don't-" Seraphim whispered. I don't want to fall for you. I don't want to be fooled. I don't want to have my heart stolen. "I have to go." She brushed past him, off the balcony and out of the library.

Alone again, he was no longer 'the Malfoy heir.' Alone again, he was just Draco. Staring after the retreating figure, he realized that he well and truly was…alone.

:checks self: Okay. Haven't been maimed yet because of the OOC-ness. :whew: Hehe. So, you know the drill, please leave a nice, tasty, crunchable…err. 'Scuse me, review. Yes, that's it. Review please! Ta!