A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I was visiting family in Oklahoma for a week without a computer. Well, this chapter is in Draco's P.O.V. P.S. Thanks for all the support! I love you guys: )

A Day With Amaranta

What could that girl be thinking?! He told her specifically people to befriend, and Harry Potter definitely wasn't on that list! Draco Malfoy sat impatient, on one of the many couches in the Slytherin common chamber. The dungeon that he now occupied was very suiting to his character. Dark, damp, and with an eerie glow. Crabbe and Goyle, his two loyal lackies, stood behind him, waiting for orders. His arms drapped lazily over the back of the couch, his legs crossed and his foot twitching madly. Every five seconds, he smoothed his bleach blonde hair back, although it had already become trained by now to remain in that position.

Where was that confounded woman? If Proffesor Umbridge was making her stay, even this late, he'd have to have a little chat with her. His father was a very genorous friend of the Ministry, and Dolores would definitely warm up to him.

He watched as the dungeon chamber slowly thinned, everyone returning to their beds, awaiting the next day of school. It was at times like this that he could let his guard down and his mind wander.

He remembered the first time he laid eyes on Amaranta. His father had brought her home, saying she'd be staying there until her guardian came to retrieve her. They were both five at that time, and her hair was a little lighter back then. Maybe when she was born, her hair had been a bright blonde, as his had been, but it was obvious she had been neglected of sunlight for lengthy periods of time. Was that why he had this strange infatuation with her? Surely not. Even when children, her company hadn't been all too pleasant. He never once saw her smile, or show any sign of pleasure in the least bit. Was that because her father was-

He shook his head, but then smoothed his hair back, but even with the sudden movement, his hair hadn't budged an inch. The grande grandfather clock in the corner struck nine. If she didn't get back soon, Filch just might nab her.

Their relationship could be labled as childhood friends, he thought. She had made visits over the years to his house. Because of this, Draco had begun to infer that she must be someone important, but even while she was there, his father never treated her any better than one of the house elves. She couldn't have been a filthy mud-blood, no, his father would never allow such a creature into their home. Then why?

Even over the summer, before this term, when he had asked him if he could take Amaranta as his wife, his father replied, "Don't get too attached to that girl." What could his father have meant by that? Amaranta would be a perfect specimen to continue the Malfoy lineage.

He heard a creak and felt one of Goyle's stubby fingers tap his shoulder. Speak of the devil. Amaranta walked into the dungeon, her face as blank and cold as before. So cold it sent shivers down Draco's spine. Was that what attracted him to her?

"Where have you been?" He asked, although he fully knew the answer.

"In Proffesor Umbridge's office," she replied apathetically. "I now know what detention means."

He raised an eyebrow at that last comment, but decided it best not to inquire further. "What did Umbridge make you do?"

"Lines."

"Really? That's all?"

"There was a catch."

"Hum?"

She didn't speak, but showed him the back of her hand. His face began to contort into a dark shape as he could trace words etched into her skin with his thumb. I must not interrupt the teacher. That old hag! If she wasn't on his side, he'd- No matter. "I'll speak with Dolores tomorrow. We'll see about your detention."

"Don't trouble yourself," she replied, her face blank, but serious. "I wish to remain in these 'detentions.'"

He gaped up at her. "But, why-?"

"It's for my mission."

"The one you can't tell me about?"

She nodded.

Draco sighed. She was beginning to use this as her excuse for everything. He wanted to protect her, but this girl was so stubborn, that no matter what he did, he couldn't dissuade her. "Fine then, go to bed and get some rest." He reluctantly let go of her hand as she walked into the Girl's dormitories, instantly wanting to feel that heat in his hands once again. No matter. He had the majority of tomorrow with her. He could work on saving her school life then.

"Hey, Amaranta, you want to watch the Gryffindor losers practice Quidditch?" Malfoy proposed to Amaranta who was doing her homework quietly in the library. With how far she was behind, she needed all the help she could get.

She stared up at him blankly. "What's Quidditch?"

"Man, you really did live a sheltered life," he sighed. "No matter. It'll be fun even if you don't know the game. Making fun of Gryffindor never gets old! Besides, they've got Weasley as their new Keeper! Ha! This year's going to be a shoo-in for the Slytherin team!"

Amaranta curled her finger and put it to her lips as she always did when she was thinking deep about something. Malfoy couldn't fend off the heat in his cheeks everytime he saw her finger push her lips open. But she soon let her hand fall to her sides and her mouth remain closed. "Ok."

Draco smirked when he saw Amaranta gazing mystically at the eminse stadium that served as the site for their Quidditch games. He could pretty much guess that she'd never even seen a stadium before. The flags bearing the House colors billowed in the strong wind. It had been rainy these past few days. Although no water dropped upon their heads, heavy clouds threatened them in the sky.

They took their place amongst an early group of Slytherins, who greeted him warmly, but ignored Amaranta. He recognized most of them as his Quidditch team, along with close friends. One of them handed him a box of All-Flavor jelly beans, which he took gratefully, a maniacal plot forming in his mind. As he sat down on the cold, metal bleachers, he handed a brown jelly bean to Amaranta. Dirt flavored. "Take it. It's a treat."

Amaranta examined it closely before popping it into her mouth. He didn't know he could ever see her grow even paler than she already was. Her brows furrowed, and she reluctantly swallowed. "You actually enjoy eating those things?"

Malfoy couldn't suppress a grin. This was the first time she had used sarcasm around him. He was glad she was opening up to him a bit. He turned his head back to the field when he heard mocking cheers. Show time.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" He called out over the evil laughs. "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?"

Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy shrieked with laughter. Even from here, Malfoy could seee the redhead's freckled face match a similar shade of red. He grinned broadly. This was what he lived for.

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle anyway?" Parkinson giggled loudly, for all to hear. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

The Gryffindor Quidditch team ignored them, well, except for Ron. He appeared to be having a little trouble concentrating as the team began passing a Quaffle to each other.

"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?" Malfoy called loudly. "Sure you don't need to lie down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing? That's a record for you, isn't it?"

That last joke received massive hoots and howls from the gang of Slytherins. Malfoy beamed proudly, and glanced at Amaranta. She wasn't laughing, or even smiling, but she didn't appear angry that he had made a stab at Harry. In fact, she looked like she didn't care at all. Well, at least his fears that she had some weird feelings towards the Potter boy weren't true. He knew her longer than Harry, anywho. If anyone could get Amaranta to open up, ut would be him.

"Gryffindor are losers!" Someone began from within the crowd, and soon the crowd followed, until the entire Slytherin group, excluding Amaranta, were chanting, "Gryffindor are losers! Gryffindor are losers!"

Soon, the Quidditch practice was over, and the Slytherin group began to thin. Draco was about to leave along with them, when he saw Amaranta routed firmly to her seat. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him curiously and he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. They shrugged their shoulders, already used to him seeking Amaranta's company, and left.

Now it was just the two of them.

"Amaranta?"

"I've never flown before," she answered his voiceless question. "I've always been rooted to the ground. I wonder what it feels like..."

"If you want," Draco scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "I could take you on a ride. On my broom, I mean."

Amaranta gazed up at him, although her face was expressionless, her eyes glittered with hope. There was no way he could resist those eyes. Wishing he hadn't sent his lackies away, he quickly performed a spell to summon his broom, hoping he didn't break anything along the way. Soon, he had his Firebolt in his hands.

"Just to be safe," he glanced up at her, trying to act nonchalant, "you should ride with me. Since you're a beginner, it'd be best if you had a skilled rider along with you."

She nodded, seeing all reason in this. Malfoy swung his leg over the end of his broom, and then gestured for her to do the same behind him. "Wrap your arms around me," he ordered, not looking back in case his face betrayed his true motives. "We wouldn't want you to fall off, now would we?"

She nodded, wrapping her skinny arms around his chest. Oh, how good it felt! He could feel the heat from her body against his back through-out the entire flight, and he thought he even caught a small smile when he glanced over his shoulder once, but if it had been there, it quickly disappeared.

That morning, at the Great Hall, Malfoy sat down to breakfast with Amaranta, Crabbe and Goyle sitting across from them. Now that Malfoy had turned all of his attention to Amaranta, they remained silent, since everytime they gave their two cents, they were sharply repreminded. "Hey, Amaranta, look," he nudged her as she took a bite out of sugared French toast. "My father's in the Daily Prophet." It was obvious to any outsider that Draco spent most of his energy trying to impress the girl, but she appeared unaware of his intentions. He should her the section with the headline:

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"

"'High Inquisitor?'" She looked at me closely.

"Yes, Fudge has passed a law saying that the Ministry can now appoint someone to investigate Hogwarts and its teachers. She has full rights to get rid of anyone she wants! And because my dad's on such good terms with her, that means a little word from me and she can bag any teacher I see fit. So if there's someone you don't like, tell me, and I'll get rid of them!"

"Hmm..." Amaranta scanned the paper. "Right now, Umbridge seems unsatisfatory as a teacher, but as an asset, she might be useful. I doubt she would give up her teaching position, so it would be best to befriend her since she is rising into power. And this Cornelius Fudge seems to be more of a dictator than a minister. You say you have good connections with these people?"

"You bet," Draco couldn't help but gloat.

"The right connections can save you in the future," she remarked, and this time he could almost hint a bit of acid in her voice. "It seems your father knows what he's doing."

At that moment, he instantly regeretted showing her the paper. He hadn't ever taken into consideration her feelings towards his father. He treated her like a slave, after all. It was no wonder she'd loathe his old man.

He hoped that Potions Class would act as a distraction for his previous mistake, but Amaranta resumed her post by Harry, ignoring Malfoy completely. He couldn't deny that the previous incident might have caused this as well as her "mission."

Snape passed out everyone's moonstone essay from the previous class, and a wave of whispers and moans echoed through the dungeon. "I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this owkr in your O.W.L.," said the Proffesor curtly. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination. The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would've failed, had this been your exam. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who got D's."

"Some people got D's?" Malfoy jeered.

When the class was over, Malfoy immeadiately made his way to Amaranta as the class began filing out of the dungeon, ready to get back to their rooms. Amaranta finished packing her bags, ad quietly walked out of the door.

"So, what'd you get on yur essay?" he asked her eager for conversation to repatch their friendship.

"D."

"Ah, well, before, I-"

"You were right to scoff. It is an unstatisfactory score. I must stress more output in my work. Now, if you need me, I'll be in the library, studying. Please do not disturb me, unless it is direly urgent."

She walked away coolly and then Draco knew it would be hard to make up with her.