Narcissa didn't stop running until she reached the very top of the Astronomy tower. Winded, the cold air ripping at her throat and lungs, she threw herself headlong on to one of the marble benches along the line of telescopes. The cold was stinging her nose and cheeks, and her tears scalded her as they poured down. She had lost her scarf. She didn't care.

Darkness had fallen. The sky winked with tiny pinpricks of light. Thousands of tiny stars glittered above her. Narcissa's shoulders shook with racking sobs.

"Why?" she whispered, "Why me? Why on earth do I have to go through with this?"

She pulled a piece of parchment from her coat pocket. The letter that Andromeda had sent her two months ago. It was worn and bedraggled – she'd carried it with her ever since that day. She unfolded it and smoothed it out on her lap.

"If you see a chance for happiness, grab it with both hands, hold on to it," she managed to recite in a shaky voice. She didn't even need to read the letter anymore. She knew every word by heart.

"Maybe it was easy for you!" she shouted to the wind, clutching the letter hard, "But I can't do it – I can't do it." She began crying harder, her body shaking. "I can't be anything other than what people make me out to be."

She stood up and held the letter loosely; waiting for the wind to whip it loose, carry it away. Then she hugged it to her body and fell back on to the bench, rocking back and forth, back and forth, hugging her knees to her chest.

It was so cold, so very cold. And she was all alone.

She had always been alone.

"Narcissa?"

The voice startled her, made her jump to her feet, whirl around in terror. It was the boy who had been down on the school grounds, the one who had been warning Sirius to leave her alone. He was holding a green and white scarf in his hands.

"You dropped this," he said hesitantly, and held it out to her.

Narcissa looked at him, still shaking. She reached out, took the scarf, and wrapped it around her neck. "Thank you," she said awkwardly.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched her for a minute. Narcissa felt her cheeks burning up with embarrassment and fury. She didn't know what to say for him. If only she had some of Lily's fire and temper – then she remembered that Lily had betrayed her.

His voice interrupted her thoughts, "Can I sit here with you for awhile?"

Before she could think, she blurted out, "Why?"

He shrugged, "It's a good spot to sit and think." Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down on the stone bench and looked out over the grounds. Narcissa stood there staring at him for a second, and then sat down with him, as far over on the bench as she could get.

"My name is Remus," he said quietly.

"I know," she said, "Mine's Narcissa."

"I know."

Narcissa felt her throat closing up, "Because I'm Sirius' cousin?"

"No," Remus said mildly, turning to her, "Because I've noticed you around."

"What?" she asked. She was caught off-balance, rendered incomplete. She was not used to being spoken to like this. His voice was so calm; there was nothing suspicious about it. As a rule, she should have been on her guard, but she felt that stiff feeling in her limbs that she always got when people spoke to her begin to ease, inexplicably.

"Souls that are alike notice each other," he said simply. He took his hands out of his pockets and folded them in his lap. She watched his fingers lace into each other, awkwardly, not elegantly, like every movement Lucius made – conscious and perfect. There was nothing up his sleeve. He was hiding nothing. He was imperfect. How could perfection exist in a world when there were so many flaws? Narcissa had heard so many people tell her that she was "exquisite", "perfect", "flawless". What did those words mean, anyway? Nothing.

"You seem to feel so much," he went on, "I see you in the hallways. Your eyes are always so big, so wide. Like you're seeing everything in the whole world in one second, and you can't keep it all in. Like you're about to burst."

Narcissa stole a look at him, to see if there was laughter behind his eyes, or if he was mocking her. His eyes were like two pools of crystalline blue. She had never seen such depth. There was nothing in them except for honesty. He was hiding nothing.

"Why did you notice me?" she asked before she even knew she was wondering.

"Because you don't want to be seen," he replied mildly.

The snow fell around them silently. Flakes were landing in her long corn silk locks, on her feather light eyelashes. Remus could not help looking at her.

"What difference does that make to you?" she asked him, unaccusatory, as honestly and straightforward as he himself might have asked.

He shrugged, smiled a little, "You ask a lot of questions."

She didn't flinch, "You seem to have the answers."

"It wasn't always that way," he sighed. Leaned his head back, so his hair flopped into his face, and stared up at the stars. He breathed in, and out, his breath making little clouds of smoke in the air, "Comes from years of fighting, and then accepting the hand we're dealt in life."

Narcissa looked at him for another minute, the cut of his faded brown coat, not warm enough for him, the shoes that seemed too big. "What if the hand you're dealt is one that you still have a chance to cash in? What if you can still change the cards?"

He sat up straight again, looked at her, smiled, "Then it's all in the decisions that you make. Change your cards? Take that chance? Your choice." He breathed in and out again, "What about you, Narcissa? Was that a rhetorical question? Do you have a chance to cash in, make changes?"

"Maybe," she said guardedly, refusing to give in too much.

His cheeks were stinging with cold. He nodded, his face nearly numb. He barely noticed.

"Can I ask you a question?" she hesitated.

"Ask away."

"Has anyone ever made a decision for you that you didn't want made?"

He was staring straight forward, his face in profile to her, so she couldn't see the emotion in his eyes. His face didn't move a muscle; his expression did not alter one bit.

"Yeah," he said, "I think I know what that feels like."

His tone was heavy, his voice almost a whisper, and Narcissa knew instinctively that she was treading on a path she knew nothing about. It was better to retreat back to safer territory.

"Why did you follow me?" she asked.

Remus turned and looked at her again, his eyes open and inviting again, "People at this school can be cruel sometimes. It doesn't mean that everyone is. I came after you because I thought you needed to talk. And because I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Narcissa looked down at her mittened hands.

"Are you okay, Narcissa?"

She looked up again. He was smiling at her, a tentative smile, as if he wasn't sure how she'd respond.

She smiled back, just as tentative.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Remus. Thanks."

He had only followed her to give her back her scarf, he told himself. And to make sure that she was okay. Nothing more. He had known all of the things he told her that he knew about her. But he had not expected to feel anything except for sympathy for the pathetic little figure he had chased all the way to the top of the Astronomy Tower. But this was not the Narcissa he expected to encounter when he followed her. This was someone entirely different.

He didn't want to ask her about Lucius, about her arranged marriage, or about why she didn't get along with most of her family. He didn't ask her any questions at all. Instead, he let her talk about Andromeda, the only person in the family whom she felt close enough with to open up to, and how Andromeda had eloped with a Muggle instead of going through with her arranged marriage, and how the whole family condemned her for it. She pulled the ragged letter out of the pocket of her coat and shyly handed it to Remus.

He scanned it, then looked back up at her, "She's a brave woman. It couldn't have been an easy decision for her."

Narcissa smiled sadly, "I miss her so much. I've always missed her. I wonder what life would have been like if I'd been able to grow up knowing her. She's such an inspiration to me."

"You are every bit as strong as she is, though," Remus replied, handing her the letter gingerly, as if it was a priceless artifact.

"Right," Narcissa laughed shortly, "I don't even have the guts to stand up to my cousin or Lucius' friends; how on earth could I stand up to Lucius himself?"

"If it's what you really want," Remus said, "then you will find the strength to do it."

Narcissa had moved closer to him on the bench, he noticed. His heart was pounding in his chest. Why was it doing that?

Despite the fact that many girls in his year and below had showed an interest in him over his seven years at Hogwarts, Remus Lupin had never dared approach one of them, or take one as a girlfriend. It had been difficult enough explaining his deadly secret to his three friends, James, Sirius, and Peter. He didn't know how he would ever explain it to a woman, or how anyone would ever understand the monster that he turned into when the moon was full. He looked at Narcissa, the smooth curve of her delicate face, the snowflakes falling freely into her mane of blonde hair. He thought about being in her presence at the time of the full moon, what he might do to her, and shuddered.

"Are you cold?" she asked him. She had noticed.

"What? No," he replied. "Well, yes, but I'm fine. You?" he asked, suddenly concerned, "We could go in."

"Not yet," she replied, "if it's okay with you."

It's more than okay, he thought. To her, he said, "I'm just afraid you'll catch cold."

"I'll be okay," she replied, then shyly, "I've never spent time with someone like this."

"Like what?"

"Just – talking," she went on, even more shy, "That sounds silly, doesn't it?"

She was looking right at him. Remus had to catch his breath. She was so incredibly beautiful. But so vulnerable, so imperfect. He felt himself getting lost. This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

"No," he said, "It sounds like the most natural thing in the world."

Her hand was on the bench now. Her little hand, in a little white glove. Don't touch it, he thought to himself, don't touch her, this is recipe for disaster.

Before he could think, she reached over and took his hand in both of hers.

"Your fingers are freezing," she whispered, rubbing his hand in circles, trying to warm it. She looked into his face and smiled. Were his hands cold? He couldn't feel them.

She tipped her head to the side. A blonde lock fell into her eyes. She smiled quizzically, all shyness gone. Remus felt his heart drop into his stomach. What was she doing to him?

"What's that face for?" she asked.

"I – I don't know," Remus said. Was he speaking? Or was it only a whisper? "I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time."

"Maybe you are," Narcissa replied, "I feel like I'm seeing everything for the first time."

They sat in silence for the next half hour, the snow falling around them. And when the bells rang for lights out, they parted and went their separate ways. But neither got any sleep that night. And neither mentioned the evening on the tower again, when they met in the hallways or in the Great Hall for the rest of the week.

Somehow, no matter how poignant, words would only desecrate what had passed between them.