"Mate, you are his, I'm afraid," he replied to the confused and frankly frightened sixteen-year-old, "I'll explain soon. Both of you should get some sleep after what you've been through. When you wake, we shall have a meeting with Professor Dumbledore," Snape finished with a nod to the Headmaster. Had Draco or Roanoke been paying attention, they would both have detected worry and compassion in his voice, but Draco's senses were much too overloaded with the discovery of his mate to think clearly, and Roanoke far too confused. The emotion went unnoticed, but not by two shadows who quickly fled the premises whilst Snape and the Headmaster left.

The two soul mates glided to Dreamland. Once asleep, Roanoke dreamt of her childhood, and Draco once again had a dream with the girl Rain in it, but this time, her name was Roanoke.

The dream, that had always been slightly frightening and horribly confusing, was now both comforting and troublesome. Draco woke anxious and glad. He had found his mate. Would she ever accept him? He wondered. He knew it was pivotal in his biography, vital to his survival. He knew, also, that everything would be all right, because he loved her, knew her. The run through the gardens and her one kiss to his hand was more satisfying than any fantasy he had lived or envisioned. She was there, and that was all that mattered.

Roanoke had gone up first to the Headmaster's office, probably so he could explain the situation without the lovesick Veela drooling over his mate. The boy was now following her footsteps, and scent, to Dumbledore's office. That is when he heard the most heart-wrenching sound. It was Roanoke, the eternal love of his life, crying. He knew exactly why too. It was him, all his fault, like everything that ever went wrong. She didn't want him, and never would. She probably had someone else, somewhere else, someone, and somewhere better. At that precise moment, with that revelation to bear with him, he turned and walked in the opposite direction. He wanted to comfort the weeping girl, but she would reject his comfort, as she had rejected the possibility of his love. Thinking this, he began to run, as swiftly as he could, as far as his legs would take him. He was strong from Quiddich, but he quickly tired and started then to notice the world around him.

Draco was now outside, and every piece of earth and stormy sky seemed to taunt the boy. The heavens were the exact color of her lovely, expressive eyes, and the earth was the same that her feet had trodden only nights ago. Reaching the Forbidden Forest, he paused, wondering if she would care if he died from the terrors contained within the trees. While he pondered, leaning up against a tall pine, he noted bits of dirt and grime that had accosted him and his uniform (which had somehow appeared next to his bed while he slept) as he ran. Draco closed his eyes and was abruptly surprised by a familiar voice. It was so beautiful, the pale boy was unsure if he could ever describe it in words. When he opened his eyes, an equally, if not more lovely sight swam into his line of vision, and what a sight it was.

Roanoke was calling his name. She had come looking for him when he had not shown up in the Headmaster's office, and was no longer occupying the Hospital Wing. Finally seeing him, she walked over and sat next to him, but not touching him. The Slytherin guessed that this was the fault of Dumbledore, as he had probably told her to try not to tempt him. Therefore, she neither touched him, nor looked at him, nevertheless, it was a companionable silence, rather than an awkward one.

Without warning, the girl said, "This is going to be strange for a while isn't it?" Draco replied with a nod, not trusting himself to speak, though his long, pale artist's fingers itched to touch her, as they had itched to console her not long ago. Silence once again reigned.

Finally, Roanoke asked, "Why did you run off like that?"

"You were crying," he replied simply.

"Oh," she still was not looking at him, but he could sense her embarrassment.

"Does Dumbledore still want to talk to us?" Draco asked after another moment of silence.

"Yes," Roanoke replied as though she was contemplating something, "But I want us to talk first."

"Oh," it was Draco's turn to respond, "What about?" She gave him a hard, assessing look before telling him he knew exactly what she was speaking of. Still, the smothering silence regained its hold on the two.

Roanoke sighed after a moment, then whispered, unsure of herself, "How can we be soul mates if you don't love me enough while we're strangers to even talk to me?" It was then that Draco's pale, metallic orbs acquired a strange glow, in most it might be called 'hope', but this was much more intense.

"You mean you're willing to try?" Draco asked, his hope shining through as much as he tried to suppress it.

"Of course," The girl replied matter-of-factly, "I'll try anything once, and sometimes twice, but that's not why I'm doing this," she hastily confirmed when she noticed the hope on his face wither, "I'm doing it because I already love you to some extent. The night before my birthday, in the gardens, was wonderful," Roanoke said dreamily, "I like you, and I'm willing to try, but just because I like you," the strange beauty established, "Does not, I repeat, does not, mean I'm going to sleep with you tonight, or any time in the near future."

Hey! Thanks for being patient everybody!

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dARWIN ;D