Chapter 1

Arianna Huntington sat at the base of the rolling hills that ended in a clear stream. The clearing was peaceful in the early evening chill. Her legs were tucked under her, the long purple skirt of her dress covering her flesh from the ever damp English mist. Peace was a commodity that Arianna had come to treasure.

At seventeen she had experienced more than her fair share of turmoil, rage and hate. Those were the very things that had landed her in the English countryside after her sixth year at Durmstrang, so far from her home on the plains of Transylvania. The thought of the school caused a forlorn expression to creep across her pretty face. She would miss her friends, and her teachers when she started at Hogwarts in the fall. Sliding a slender finger down her silver wand she sighed. Maybe in the end it was all for the best.

The blond haired young man leaned against the tree he had rested his broom against moments before. His arms folded across his chest as he watched the redhead just sit there, staring at nothing. He wondered if she could sense his presence. He didn't think so. His newfound skill at occulumency was certainly coming in handy. He saw the wand in her hand and knew she must be a witch, certainly she had an air about her that most young women sitting alone in the enclosing darkness would not have. He'd never seen her before and wondered where she had come from. When she rose and picked up her cape from the ground and flung it across her shoulders she looked across the clearing and had he not known better he would have sworn she was looking directly at him.

Arianna sensed a change in her surroundings, nothing she could put her finger on as a chill crept up her spine. She casually got to her feet and picked up her cape. Even as she put it on her wand was grasped tightly in her hand. She could feel the slight jump in her pulse echo through her hand and her wand responded with a will of it's own as a blob of light surrounded her. She apparated to the foyer of her Aunt's manor and shook the feeling of...well she didn't know what the feeling was but she was glad it was gone.

"Arianna Dawn!" she heard her Aunt's perturbed voice carrying from the parlor. She walked to the open doorway and tried to pretend to be contrite.

"Yes Aunt Patricia?" she said quietly, her eyes on the shiny toes of her boots.

"There you are! We are going to be late!" the older woman admonished.

Arianna couldn't suppress the coy smile "Only fashionably...I'm sure Mistress Malfoy will appreciate that."

"You are incorrigible my dear," Patricia Holt shook her red head at her niece. "Change into appropriate shoes and we will go."

Arianna nodded and sprinted up the cold, stone steps to her room. She changed quickly and rejoined her aunt in the foyer.

"We'll take the carriage...make a grand entrance!" she whispered with a conspiratorial wink at her young charge.

Draco Malfoy flew his new Nimbus across the gardens of his parents estate. His mother would be wicked pissed that he was late. He shook his head, he knew his mother was up to her usual tricks. This stupid ball she was throwing was her latest attempt to placate him before she married him off to Pansy Parkinson. "No other suitable girls!" The words reverberated through his mind. He had heard it so many times it was engraved in his brain. He had one more year to escape the fate worse than death that was a lifetime of marriage to that cow Pansy.

He hastily landed in the glowing garden and put away the broom. He could hear his mother bellowing at the house elves as he made his way across the stone patio to the wide French doors. He flung them open and scowled at the sight that met his eyes. Shaking his head as his Narcissa Malfoy threw him a haughty glare "Draco! Where in blazes have you been?" she hissed.

"Flying," he responded with a shrug.

"Our guests will be arriving any moment, I can't get any work out of these lazy, useless elves and I expect you to act as host tonight...since your father is..." The tears welled up in her eyes as she wrung her hands.

"I'm sorry mother. I will be ready straight away," He said quietly.

He moved quickly to the stairs and went to his room. Pulling off his robes he threw his wand on the bed and stared at the tuxedo his mother expected him to wear. He rolled his eyes before yanking the offending garment on. He used the wand to tie the bow tie and shine his scuffed shoes. By the time the first guests arrived he was standing at his mother's side, welcoming them into their home.

He saw the footman help Pansy and her mother from their carriage and sucked in a breath. She was wearing a flame red dress and she looked like a tomato ready to burst. He steeled himself for her greeting and slid a glance at his mother. He didn't think she liked the Parkinson girl any more than he did but as she saw it there was no other option in all of England to give her pureblood grandchildren and carry on the Malfoy name.

Pansy swept across the threshold as if she already owned the place and smiled sweetly at Draco. "Draco! Darling!" she giggled as he took her hand and bowed formally, his lips just missing her hand.

She didn't miss the slight and threw him an icy glare. She knew he wasn't thrilled with her, but damn it he was hers and no one was going to change that.

Draco's eyes swept past her as another carriage arrived and when the doors opened and the exquisite redhead from earlier appeared he felt as if someone had hit him with an immobilizing curse.

Narcissa's eyes lit up at the beauty who ascended the stairs, her skirt swishing around her feet. So this was Patricia's niece from Transylvania. Brilliant amethysts glittered at the girls ears and throat and set off the flame red curls piled atop her head to perfection. This was her one hope...she only had to discern if the girls parentage was indeed pureblood or if she was a half blood. The rumors had swept through the wizarding world after Alfred Huntington had killed his mousy wife in a fit of jealous rage after he had caught her with a muggle.

She hoped, no prayed that this girl would be pure and be more to her son's liking than the frumpy Parkinson girl.

Narcissa glanced at her son out of the corner of her eye. She could see that he was at least physically attracted to the Transylvanian princess. Crossing her fingers in the folds of her skirt as Patricia introduced them to the girl.

Arianna felt the chill, the same one from the hillside creep up her spine as her eyes locked with the cool gray eyes of the blond standing in front of her. He took her hand as they were introduced and kissed it, his lips lingering just a fraction of a second longer than necessary and once again her pulse jumped in response.

"Draco, escort Miss Huntington to the ball room," Narcissa suggested pointedly. "Nearly everyone has arrived, this is your party after all."

Draco offered his arm and she took it. She felt eyes boring into her and glanced around the room, a sweet smile plastered on her face. Had she known matchmaking was on the agenda for the evening she would have been much later...or met with an unfortunate accident that would have rendered her incapable of attending.

She kept the smile on her face despite the death glares she was being shot from half the female population under twenty-one in attendance. One dark girl in particular, Arianna could feel the hatred boiling in the girls blue blood.

She straightened her shoulders, never one to back down from a challenge she smiled up at Draco Malfoy. "So Draco...do you attend Hogwarts? I'll be starting there next term. Aunt Patricia thinks Durmstrang is too far away."

Draco cocked an eyebrow as the trademark smirk graced his full lips "I do. Head boy this year. Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team." He bragged.

"Ah, I remember now. I've seen you play...very impressive."

His eyes widened in surprise, was this girl flirting with him? He'd never had anyone as incredible as her flirt with him. His reputation usually preceded him so despite his good looks and money most girls were either salivating all over him, which he found disgusting or the exact opposite. This subtlety had him slightly off kilter as they entered the ballroom of the mansion.

He escorted her to the edge of the dance floor and was about to ask her to dance when Pansy sashayed up to him "Draco, my love. I want to dance," She announced placing her hand possessively on his arm.

He groaned inwardly "I was about to..."

"Now!" She snapped glaring at Arianna with barely concealed hatred.

It wasn't concealed from Arianna. She was used to hate. She smiled and took a step away from him. "Go ahead, I'll find some punch or something." She murmured. She really wanted no part of whatever was going on in Malfoy Manor.

Arianna made her way to the table laden with goodies and drinks, her back purposefully to the dance floor. She couldn't explain the odd reaction she had when she was in such close proximity to Draco Malfoy. She felt a blush creep across her cheeks.

Draco held Pansy as far away from him as possible and still be considered dancing as he watched Arianna out of the corner of his eye. She never once looked in his direction and idly wondered if he had been mistaken about the seeming flirtation.

Pansy knew he was distracted and it enraged the short brunette. If that little Transylvanian trollop thought she was going to waltz in here and steal her man she had another think coming. Draco Malfoy was hers, period. She looked up at him. He had changed so much, more than she suspected most people realized. He wasn't as cocky, as arrogant as the Draco she had come to desire more than anything. His unwavering belief that he was better than everyone had been one of his most charming qualities. He was still cocky and arrogant but since Lucius Malfoy had been tossed into Azkaban, he had lost his edge.

He had lost far more than anyone, including his mother had ever imagined. Draco had spent the last few months wondering if everything he had been brought up to believe mattered in the end. Grateful when the song ended he stepped away from Pansy. "I have other guests," He said shortly before turning and walking away from her in search of Arianna Huntington.

Before he could find her in the throng of people he was accosted by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Rolling his eyes he stood and tried to listen the them prattle on, all the while his eyes searching for the beautiful redhead.

When his eyes finally settled on her she was on the dance floor, laughing and dancing with some boy he didn't recognize. His eyes clouded with anger and jealousy as he watched, now completely ignoring his companions.

When the young man leaned in and whispered something in her ear he could feel the fingers of his wand hand twitch in response. Slapping a curse on the unsuspecting boy would not look good and would infuriate and embarrass his mother. He set his jaw and stalked across the floor. Tapping the boy, sharper than needed, on the shoulder he glared at him when he turned to face Draco. "Beat it," He hissed.

The boy scrambled away and Draco took his place in Arianna's arms.

"Was that really necessary?" she inquired, her eyebrow arched and her voice steely.

"Yes," He returned before letting his face soften. For some reason he couldn't explain he didn't want her first impression of him to be that of everyone else who encountered the heir to the Malfoy name. "Forgive me, I am being a tad selfish...I saw you first," he whispered as he pulled her closer to his body.

This time both eyebrows came together, knitting in confusion. She wasn't a novice when it came to dealing with the opposite sex, but this one...this tall blonde god made her pulse pound in a way no other had.

"Arianna," He murmured her name in her ear. "Do you know that you are the most beautiful girl in this room? Most likely in this whole blasted country?"

Now he was flirting with her, she knew that. She laughed throatily and fluttered her eyelashes at him "Master Malfoy, you flatter me," she murmured in her best coy, court voice.

Draco shook his head slightly, he'd never meant anything more in his life.

Narcissa stood back and watched as her son followed every movement of the heir to the Transylvanian throne, with his eyes if not with his body for the rest of the evening. She smiled to herself, if only the rumors could be proved to be wrong. No matter that King Alfred had killed his wife, turned her to ash with a single flick of his wand. That kind of thing mattered little to the Malfoy's, the only thing that mattered was that she was a pureblood. It was certainly the only acceptable possibility.