~Draco~
Draco was not happy.
This was not new. No one had ever described Draco Malfoy as a happy boy. More often, he had heard words like "spoiled" or "taciturn" bandied about. Dramatic, too. Girls had described him as melancholy in a sort of wistful way after the disappearance-death-of his mother. But it was not his mother's disapp-death-that was causing his unhappiness. It was his sister. Or, at least, something his sister had done.
She had done…. Something. Something bad to him. He just didn't know what.
"Did you swallow a lemon, Malfoy?" Nott said as he took a seat beside Draco in the Great Hall.
"Nah, it looks more like he hasn't made a trip to the loo in a couple days," Zabini replied from his spot across from Draco.
"Classy, Zabini," Draco said, a slight snarl to his lip. The other boy snickered.
"C'mon, mate," Zabini said, grabbing a roll from the basket and buttering it. "What's got you so…"
"Constipated?" Nott supplied.
"Yes! That's the word!" Zabini said cheerfully.
Draco frowned at the other two. Their crassness was irritating, to be sure, but the question itself. Just what was it that had him so moody? Some would probably point out that his mother's funeral had just been a month prior, but somehow, Draco knew that wasn't it. It had something to do with his sister; that much he knew. But, every time he tried to think on it too hard, it was like he ran into a wall-a blank mass, protecting some huge-
Something. He just couldn't figure out what that something was.
"Dunno," Draco grumbled, stabbing a potato viciously with his fork. He could practically hear the glances his dormmates were exchanging.
Nott suddenly straightened beside him, looking towards the door. Draco followed his gaze. His little sister was walking in amongst the odd assortment of girls she called 'friends', including Weasley's surprisingly adept little sister. Draco had never quite understood how Evanna could stand to spend so much time around a Hufflepuff, a Weasel, and the oddest bird to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts, but he had found himself seeking out Ginny Weasley for more Quidditch competitions. The girl was good, though he'd never admit it.
"I know who you're looking at," Zabini said, waggling his eyebrows at Nott, "but who are you staring at?"
Draco blinked and turned back to his dormmates. "That Weasley girl thinks she's so wonderful on a broom. I think she's been panting after Potter for too long."
Zabini rolled his eyes dramatically. "Are you still in a pissing contest with Weasel's little sister?"
Draco would have responded, but his little sister had taken a seat a little ways down from them.
"Hallo, Draco," she said softly. "Could I have the butter, please?"
Something about her re-awakened the anger in Draco. And not in the normal sibling rivalry way. He glared at her and then deliberately turned away.
"Here, Evanna," he heard Nott saying behind him. "Today he's a little-well-"
"You don't need to explain my brother to-"
"Something crawled up his bum and died, we're pretty sure," Zabini quipped. Draco heard Evanna cough in that obnoxious way that meant she really wanted to laugh but was trying to be proper and spun around to glare at her.
"You don't know what you're talking about, Draco! You are signing Mother up to die!"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm getting this family back together, Evanna. We'll stop being the laughing stock of Wizarding Britain and return to where we should be: untouchable."
Draco didn't remember the conversation, and yet he did. He remembered wanting to tell Father something desperately, and Evanna wanting the opposite just as much. But, ultimately, he was the firstborn son. He was the Heir. It was his responsibility to keep the family strong, as he had attempted to do by pushing Father to have the funeral and put a rest to poor Mother and all the unsavory gossip around her. And Evanna had disagreed wholeheartedly with him, but eventually given in, seeing his wisdom. Or, that was the story he had told himself.
Evanna's purple eyes had widened somewhat and she somewhat hastily excused herself.
"But I heard they are meant to serve trifle for pudding," Nott was saying. "I thought that was your favorite?"
"I really must go. I have an awful lot of studying to do," Evanna replied.
"You read more than any other third year Slytherin I know-"
"And yet my Charms mark is still not up to snuff," she replied primly, quickly swinging her bookbag over her shoulder. "I'll see you around, Nott."
Draco watched his little sister take off through narrowed eyes as Nott deflated beside him. It was certain to his mind now. Someone must have been mucking around in his memory. Now, normally that would take a very skilled wizard, but the rules didn't always seem to apply to his sister. Certainly not the rules that one mustn't begin practicing Dark Magic too young, lest always be deficient in some of the Lighter forms.
Evanna had done something to him. It was up to him to figure out just what she was trying to hide.
~Evanna~
Something was wrong.
As usual these days, Draco had glared at her and ignored her. Until he hadn't. And when he looked at her, she heard her own voice from months ago.
"You don't know what you're talking about, Draco! You are signing Mother up to die!"
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm getting this family back together, Evanna. We'll stop being the laughing stock of Wizarding Britain and return to where we should be: untouchable."
She had forced Draco to forget that. So the memories had to be nothing more than her own guilty conscious, right? She got up from the table immediately, not having even ate anything for her dinner.
"Excuse me," she muttered to no one in particular. Nott perked up.
"But I heard they are meant to serve trifle for pudding," Nott argued. "I thought that was your favorite?"
"I really must go. I have an awful lot of studying to do," Evanna replied, not even really looking at the boy.
Nott gave her a boy-ish grin, still trying to coax her to sit back down. "You read more than any other third year Slytherin I know-"
Evanna felt her face redden as she tried to think of a plausible excuse.
"And yet my Charms mark is still not up to snuff," she replied primly, quickly swinging her bookbag over her shoulder. "I'll see you around, Nott."
She felt her brother's eyes on her the entire way out of the Great Hall and did her best not to run. The tension in her reduced slightly as soon as she was out of view of her brother, but it did not last long.
Blasted old man will ruin everything like he always does. Not enough he ruins his son's life. But no matter-I will be well rid of him after tonight. My lord is merciful to allow me my revenge at last…
Evanna's eyes widened as she heard the thought and looked around. There was no one near her in the corridor that she could see. She took the only course of action that she possibly could having heard a potential murderer in her head: She took off to find Professor Snape.
As she rounded the corner, she saw Harry running in from the grounds, looking wild-eyed. Her heart thumped-had she been too late? Had someone already died?
"Harry! What's wrong?"
"It's old Mr. Crouch-he's sick and demanding to see Dumbledore," Harry said, leading the way down the corridor. "Have you heard anything?"
"Yes-I think a murderer is in the castle. He wants to kill tonight," Evanna replied. She felt a new wave of panic coming off Harry.
"C'mon," he said. She had to practically run to keep up with his longer, agitated strides as they made their way to the Headmaster's office. Evanna nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Professor Snape standing in front of the gargoyle that guarded the office. The old man made her nervous, especially after her last encounter with him.
She could tell even without her powers that Harry did not share her relief to see the Potions Master. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"We need to see Dumbledore! Mr. Crouch is sick and he wants-"
"The Headmaster is busy," Professor Snape said, a derisive sneer to his voice.
"Sir, now is not the time," Evanna said. "I heard someone plotting to murder and according to Harry, Mr. Crouch has gone insane."
Professor Snape's eyes flashed, catching on immediately to the fact that Harry obviously knew of Evanna's powers, but before he could say anything, Dumbledore had come down from his office. His blue eyes narrowed suspiciously at Evanna for just a moment before he smiled at Harry.
"Harry, m'boy, what seems to be the problem?"
Harry quickly recounted to Dumbledore what happened. Evidently, he had been speaking with Viktor Krum near the Forbidden Forest-Evanna couldn't help think him foolish for that-when Mr. Crouch had approached them, apparently out of his mind. Krum had agreed to stay with Crouch while Harry went looking for the Headmaster. Within minutes, Dumbledore had Harry leading the way out onto the grounds to find poor Mr. Crouch. Professor Snape was overly tense behind her, though she sensed there was more to it than his current annoyance with her.
As they reached the edge of the forest, there was only one figure lying on the ground.
"Krum!" Harry cried, charging forward.
"Harry, be careful," Evanna hissed, grabbing him by the wrist.
"Most vigilant, Ms. Malfoy," another voice joined them. Professor Snape became even more tense with the approach of Mad-Eye Moody. The Potions Master seemed to like the former Auror even less than Evanna did.
Professor Dumbledore had ennervated the quidditch star and had called over his shoulder for the two professors to spread out in order to find Mr. Crouch, who had apparently attacked Krum once Harry had left.
No one will ever know where he is buried.
"Harry, wands out," she said.
His eyes widened. "Did you-did you hear the same person? Shouldn't we try and stop him?"
In any other situation, Evanna would have laughed at the sheer Gryffindor-ishness of that statement. But, in this moment, where she had not felt less safe since last she was alone with Lucius, it was not in her to laugh.
"I think it's too late," Evanna murmured.
Krum joined them, looking nervous. "Should ve not go back to the castle?"
Before Harry could open his mouth, Evanna answered for him. "I would think it more prudent to wait for the professors. That is an awful lot of open ground to cover."
Krum looked at Evanna's hand, still tight around Harry's wrist and then rose an eyebrow at Harry. Evanna released Harry, a fierce blush coming to her cheeks. Before any of the three students could say anything more, the three professors came stomping out of the woods.
"Did you find anything?" Harry asked hopefully.
Evanna knew the answer before any of the professors were able to answer. No one would ever find anything left of Mr. Crouch. She could see in her mind's eye a magicked bone being buried in a shallow grave that no one would ever guess could hold an entire human being. She shivered, watching the edge of the woods carefully. She wasn't sure if she was looking to catch a glimpse of the killer or to reassure herself that he wasn't coming after her.
"Unfortunately, no, m'boy," Dumbledore said sadly. "We shall escort Mr. Krum to the ship before heading to the castle."
They did just that, Dumbledore admonishing Harry to go straight to Gryffindor Tower when they returned to the castle.
"Ms. Malfoy," he said after Harry had gotten out of earshot. "Have you anything to add to the night's events?"
Those piercing blue eyes seemed to freeze Evanna in place. The only thing she had to add would mean revealing her secret to the Headmaster, but that she was certainly never going to do. Professor Snape placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I believe, Headmaster, that young Mr. Potter simply pulled whoever was in his path into his mischief making, as usual," her Head of House sneered.
"Surely you're being a little unfair, Severus-"
"If I have your leave, Headmaster, I prefer students in my House to stick to a strict curfew and lights out schedule," Professor Snape drawled. The Headmaster sighed.
"Yes, go on," he said.
Both Slytherins were silent as Professor Snape escorted Evanna to the Common Room, his hand not leaving her shoulder. This night had thoroughly unnerved him, she could tell. Before they made it to the dungeon corridor that the entrance to the Common Room was in, Professor Snape spoke in a low voice.
"I do not pretend to understand your gifts," he said. "Nor do I want to pretend to understand your…. acquaintance with Potter. However, I do understand you to be a most cunning and clever young woman. Therefore your decision to allow Harry Potter in on your secret-"
"I didn't do anything of the sort!" Evanna exclaimed. "He-well, he kind of figured it out."
"He figured out the ancient legend of the léitheoir aigne when the boy barely understands even the basics of Wizarding Society with no help whatsoever?"
Evanna blushed. "I-I trust him. Harry wouldn't do anything to hurt me."
"Oh, Potter never intends anyone to be hurt," Professor Snape scoffed. "Nonetheless, people around him do get hurt. I do not wish you to become one of the statistics, Ms. Malfoy."
Evanna swallowed. "I'm rather tired, sir. May I go on to bed?"
Professor Snape sighed. "Very well. Think on what I said, Ms. Malfoy. And be careful."
"I always am, Professor."
A/N: Did something a little different, writing from Draco's POV. I'm thinking that as the war and the plot gets more complex, I will be forced to play with POV more and more. Also, up to now has remained fairly close to canon, but that will be changing as we go to war. You'll see why in a few more chapters. ;) Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Please review!