~*A/N: So there's no real point in trying to give you a reason for how long this has taken, especially since it isn't an epic. I would, however, like to apologize for just how horrid nearly all of my early chapters on this are. I want to go back and have them make more sense, but then even less would get done than already does. Therefore, some things I ask you to just accept (assuming you were paying attention earlier), because frankly, I have grown as a writer, and my earlier installments of this were crap. With that being said, I hope you enjoy the newest chapter, with (mostly) proper grammar and a more coherent stream of thought!

"Draco, wha-"

"Ssh, Mother's hiding around the corner with the camera. If we stay down ~*here, maybe she'll think we listened to her and leave us alone."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I think you've ever said." Draco kept Artimis from moving by lightly gripping her wrists. She sighed, staying where she was while awkwardness washed over her.

After a few minutes, Draco let up, returning to his previous sitting position. "Coast is clear."

"Well gee, thanks for that. Really, was it necessary?"

"Completely; I for one was growing tired of all the photographs."

"Oh? I was sure that you of all people would bask in the glow of attention."

"Oh I would, but it's odd to have this kind of attention here."

"How so?" She hugged her knees to her chest.

He thought for a moment. "Mother's never taken so many photos in succession. Ever since father became…indisposed, she's changed quite a bit. I'm not sure if it's for the better."

"Sorry; I wish I knew what to tell you, but I don't. I'm sure it's just a phase, really. She'll be back to her old self before long. Though I'm not sure how that is, so I can't give you my input on preference of personality."

"The thought is appreciated, I assure you."

The fire crackled in the oversized fireplace. Artimis slid the ring back and forth across the chain as the grating sound faintly reached her ears. Draco was spinning his ring around his finger, lost in as much thought as his companion. Artimis was the first to drift back to consciousness, and stood.

"So I'm fairly certain that I have yet to get the grand tour of your oh-so humble dwellings. Could I trouble you for the nickel tour?"

Draco looked at her. "Oh why not. Allow me to escort you through the maze that is the Malfoy manor." He gave a mock bow, escorting her from the room.

"Harry, I really do need to finish this, I hope you know."

"You've said that; why?"

"Because I might be doing alright now, but I feel like I'm slowly drowning in all of the material that I didn't learn at my old school."

Harry leaned back in his chair. "But you've been in the library for hours! There's only a few days left in break, and you're going to spend them studying? You sound like Hermione."

Maggie closed her book, using her finger as a bookmark. "Yes, and look at her performance in class versus yours. Harry, I don't want to fall behind because of the difference of education across the pond."

"Oh fine. Way to guilt me in to reading." He stood up, turning to select a book from one of the many shelves.

Maggie smiled victoriously to herself, reopening her book to study. Up to this point, she had spent most of her break doing things with Harry, all of which included her clothing staying on. And yes, it had been fun, but she did need to remind herself that she was at school, which meant that studying was of some importance. Education for American witches and wizards was similar in a general sense, but there was still such a huge switch between the ways that they were learning on either side of the Atlantic. It was taking a lot for Maggie to concentrate and to keep decent grades; her once perfect average had slipped since the transfer to Hogwarts from the Salem Academy for Witches & Wizards.

Harry flopped back down in his seat, cracking open the book he'd grabbed. Maggie glanced up from her reading. "What'd you get?"

Harry tilted the book up so she could read the cover: Quidditch through the Ages. She rolled her eyes. "Out of everything the library has, you decide to read about Quidditch."

"You told me that I should be studying; you just didn't specify what subject."

"Okay, my fault. Lord. Don't you know everything there is to know about it anyway?"

"Quidditch is a very complicated sport! Besides, I want our team to do exceptionally well this year. And no, I don't know everything; just enough to be team captain, apparently."

"I'm shocked that the team still has faith in you."

"I resent that."

"It's understandable." Maggie returned to her book. "Now hush; I have real studying to do."

For all of five minutes, the library was quiet, save the turning of pages and the faint sounds of breathing from the two Gryffindors. Maggie jumped ever so slightly when Harry chose to disturb the peace.

"So, wanna celebrate the new year on the Astronomy tower tomorrow?"

"Well, it sounds like a plan; did you have to ask me right this second?"

"I suppose not-"

"Good. Now hush. You are allowed to go do something else, you know. I'm not asking you to sit here and watch me study; that just sounds creepy."

"I'm getting a sense of déjà vu here; that happened to Hermione during fourth year."

"Really now? This I need to hear about." Maggie closed her book while Harry recounted the events surrounding the Triwizard Tournament, beginning specifically with Hermione and Krum's sort-of relationship. From there, it spiraled out towards the darker regions of that school year, coming to an end somewhere around the time of Cedric Diggory's death. Throughout the tale, Maggie sat entranced, images painting themselves across her mind. Sure, she had heard things about the incident, but the Americas were pretty much a whole world away, and, despite the significance of this event, a great deal of it had been diluted for the American audiences. The condensed version, of course, did the tale no justice.

"And, well, no one wanted to hear that Voldemort was really back, especially from Dumbledore. Hearing it from him almost made it gospel for most of us, and you know that most families want to keep their kids in the dark."

Maggie ran her hands through her hair. "I don't even know how to react to that. I mean, that's pretty heavy for anyone, but you were only fourteen… how did you stay so strong?"

"I never really thought that I did. I mean, I guess I just had kind of learned to deal with it by that point. I've never exactly had what you'd call a "normal" year at Hogwarts."

"So I've heard. Can you do normal?"

"I'd like to think so; will you be there if I try?"

Maggie reached across the table and gently squeezed Harry's hand. "Where else would I possibly be?"

"Five minutes left until the New Year, everyone! Grab a glass, please; grab a glass!"

It was a small party, especially for a Malfoy affair. A few prominent families (that weren't yet under suspicion for Death Eater activity) attended the New Year's Eve party that Narcissa Malfoy threw, and Artimis felt about as uncomfortable as was possible for someone in her situation. Aside from Draco, she knew absolutely no one there, and it unnerved her. One of the House Elves walked by with a tray of drinks, and she grabbed two. She downed the first, placing it back on the tray while Draco picked up one for himself.

"That's your fifth glass this evening, I hope you know," he commented, taking a sip from his second glass. "I don't think champagne will do anything good for you."

"Draco, I am in a room filled with friends of your mother who all seem to know me, but I haven't the foggiest as to who any of them are. Now, I'm popular, but when some eighty-something man whom I've never met in my entire life approaches me and asks how my father's doing after his bout of exhaustion last year, I start becoming a bit unnerved. Therefore, champagne is going to be just splendid for me right now."

Draco gently placed his hand on top of her glass. "As much sense as that makes, I don't want you getting completely pissed before midnight; you want to look okay in front of Mother's friends, right? Staying on your feet is the first step in achieving that. Besides, I'd hate for you to become ill on your lovely dress."

Artimis lowered her glass. Draco wasn't lying, the dress was lovely. Blood red fabric wrapped around her chest and hung straight to the floor covering a pair of black heels that she was about ready to discard. A single black ribbon circled her throat, accompanying the ring that Draco had given her. Artimis had pulled her hair up for the evening, showing off teardrop-shaped ruby earrings. She looked at him through black-rimmed eyes, taking a deep breath.

"I'm nearly emotionally unstable because I'm terrified someone will find out we're faking, and all you care about is if I run the dress. God, that is so you."

"Relax, will you? The evening is almost over, and no one has any reason to question our relationship; what do they care if we're together or not? We just had to convince my mother, that's all."

"Yeah, but she's been watching us all night like we're about to upset some master plan."

Draco tugged at his bowtie. "I'm sure she's only wondering how long our clothing is going to remain on and intact."

Artimis rolled her eyes. "You're mental, I hope you know that."

"One minute left in the year, friends; make it count for something!"

Narcissa, who was the epitome of elegance in green, had a smile plastered on her face with a white-knuckled hand wrapped around the back of a chair. She tried so hard, but it was obvious that she wasn't the same without her husband around. Even with the five or so glasses of bubbly she'd consumed, Artimis could see that from her post in the corner.

Draco wrapped an arm around hers, guiding his date to the center of the room where the rest of the party had gathered. His mother tilted her glass toward her son, quite pleased with his choice of a companion. The seconds ticked by as the chattering of the guests turned to the traditional countdown.

"Three…two…one…!"

The hour switched to midnight, ushering in the New Year with all the fanfare the party could muster. Streamers and confetti fell from the ceiling, covering anyone and anything that was in the room. Artimis looked up, laughing at the unexpected display. Draco watched as she closed her eyes, and, placing a hand on her bare shoulder, kissed her.

"Happy New Year!" Maggie and Harry toasted with Butterbeer and exchanged a tender kiss. The starry sky seemed to glow a bit brighter as the year rolled over, but that didn't make it any less cold. Despite the fire that Maggie had conjured on the stone, Harry pulled the large afghan tighter around the two of them.

"What'd you wish for, Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Your New Year's wish; what was it?"

"If I told you that, then it wouldn't come true."

Maggie nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, of course. Harry, this is absolutely beautiful; thanks for dragging me up here."

"I hope you're not too cold."

Maggie cocked a half smile. "I've lost feeling in my toes and fingers, but I'll manage."

Harry pulled her closer, letting her lean back on his chest while he leaned against the tower wall. He stared up at the stars, watching them glitter and sparkle in the night sky. The sight was dazzling, as was the girl he was sharing the evening with. It was strange- their relationship. Everything had happened so fast since she'd turned up during the sorting ceremony. They had barely known each other, only a few months ago, and now they were curled up under a blanket, celebrating the New Year together. Not that he would change any of it, mind you, but the speed in which everything had occurred was almost dizzying to think about.

"What're you thinking about?"

"Us."

"I like when you says 'us'. It makes me happy." Maggie smiled. "What about us?"

"You see those two stars?"

"Um, which two? There're a lot of stars in the sky, Harry."

"The two stars right next to each other; the ones a bit brighter than the ones around them." Harry took Maggie's hand and guided it until it pointed to where he was looking.

"Okay, yeah. What about them?"

"That's us. Sure, we're surrounded by other brilliant people, but we're still right with each other, and we shine because of each other. At least, you make me feel like I could shine."

Maggie leaned her head back to look at Harry. "If I sparkle at all, it's because you give me light. Harry, I couldn't imagine being anywhere else than right here with you."

He leaned his head forward and kissed her. "Thanks for that, really. Is this all a bit too sappy?"

"Perhaps just a tad. And while we might be a bit sappy, we're also going to freeze to death if we stay out here too much longer."

Harry grunted in agreement, sliding back from Maggie and standing. She extinguished the fire while he helped her to her feet, both returning to squish together under the blanket. They walked back inside the castle, immediately feeling the temperature difference from the frigid early January morning outside.

The House Elves were busy cleaning up the mountains of streamers that littered the ballroom and spread to the entryway. Narcissa and Draco were sending their final guests out the door, all of whom had spurted compliments on the lovely party during their departure. With the last guests gone, Narcissa closed the front door with a contented sigh.

"Well, that was another successful evening, wouldn't you agree, Draco?"

"Yes, mother, of course."

"Make sure that Artimis is fine, will you? I think she might have had one too many glasses of champagne this evening."

"I'm sure she's fine, but I'll check on her."

She smiled sadly at him, rubbing his shoulders. "I'm off to bed, then. Happy New Year, Draco dear." She kissed his forehead.

"Happy New Year to you too, mother." She lifted her dress and trekked up the staircase. Draco reentered the ballroom. "Well, now that we're alone…" he realized he was speaking to no one. Mildly confused, Draco looked around, unable to discover where Artimis was. He glanced outside, only to find her perched on the base of the fountain with a bottle in her hand. He opened the door, letting the frigid winter air rush inside the house. It had started snowing, the white flakes having difficulty sticking to the ground. He made his way over to Artimis, crossing in front of her and sitting on her right.

"What're you drinking?"

Artimis glanced down at her hand. "Dunno," she took a drink, "but it's damn good."

They sat in silence for a moment, their icy breath dancing in the winter air. Draco tapped her hand, and she relinquished the bottle to him. He took a swig, handing the bottle back to her.

"Red current rum," he said. "Where'd you get it, anyway?"

"Your mother had it out in the kitchen, and the House Elves hadn't put it away yet. I didn't think anyone would miss it terribly. Besides, this has been a strange evening." She looked up at the sky. "I'm surprised to see the stars through the snow."

"You're going to freeze out here, you know that."

"I can't feel cold right now. Or maybe I'm already frozen and getting frostbitten, who knows. The point is, I'm fairly certain that freezing is far off. Or is it…?"

Draco took the bottle again. "Exactly how much have you had to drink this evening, anyway?" He took another drink.

"Put it this way: that bottle was mostly full when I got a hold of it."

The weight of the bottle suggested that it was far lower than it was when she'd gotten a hold of it. Draco took another drink, handing it back to his inebriated companion. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"I'll tell you when I've had enough," she mock shouted. "But you're probably right. I just don't want to go back in yet."

"The party's over, Artimis. No more creepy old men lurking inside."

"What about creepy young men?"

"When you've got a dashing guard such as myself? Hardly."

Artimis rolled her eyes, smiling. A chill ran up her spine, sending her into a bout of shivers. Draco slid off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. She nodded in appreciation, looking back up at the sky. The snow was finally beginning to turn the world white, including the two teenagers. Draco looked out across the expanse of the Malfoy property. The snow had sent the world in to a silent slumber, a white blanket in the darkness.

"Why'd you kiss me earlier," her voice jolted him back to the garden.

"Kisses are customary on New Year's, and if we didn't mother would've been oh-so disappointed with us."

"No, I know that. But why why'd you kiss me like you did?"

"Sorry, I'm not tracking."

"That wasn't how you kiss someone you're just using for your own ends. I should know, because I've done that."

Draco became flustered. "Well, I mean, what I meant to do was-"

"It's fine, really; it's late, you're cold, and I'm drunk. Beddie-bye time." Artimis stood up, stumbling a bit while the snow fell off of her. Draco rose, grabbing her arm while she caught her balance.

"Better?"

"Not," she yawned, "not really, but I'll be okay." She took a step forward and stumbled again. "Okay, maybe not so much."

Draco rolled his eyes, scooping her up bridal-style – with much protesting – and carried the Yankee back inside. After she'd calmed down, Artimis wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, nuzzling her face against him. There she stayed while he carried her up the stairs and laid her on her bed.

Once he'd retrieved he jacket from the somnolent lady, Draco pulled his wand from the inside pocket and muttered a spell, drying both of their forms. He felt a wave of heat briefly wash over him while his clothes and body temperature regulated themselves, and watched while Artimis's clothing followed suit. He pulled down the covers, tucking her in to bed.

"'Coulda dunnit m'self," she mumbled.

"Hush, get some sleep. You're going to have a nasty headache when you wake up anyway."

"Mmkay. G'nigh' Draco," Artimis curled up under the covers, apparent consciousness becoming a thing of the past.

Draco kissed her forehead, carefully closed her bedroom door, and returned to his own room. Being significantly less smashed than his companion, he was able to change out of his formal clothes and in to something far more comfortable.

The fact that Artimis had picked up on exactly how he was kissing her was a flustering thought for the young wizard. He'd figured she'd been too drunk to really notice any of that, but didn't even begin to think that she'd remember him doing it. There was nothing for him to do, really, except be ready to return to school in a few days. He turned out the lights. School was not something he was excited about resuming; Draco didn't feel that Hogwarts had much left to teach him by that point. But lately, it had seemed to be presenting its students with an interesting variety of social experiences. If for nothing else, those were worth returning for.