Disclaimer: I only own the plot and Jemma
The children entering Professor Slughorn's private compartment sighed at the cold air. Some idiot had launched a warming spell so powerful, it was supplying the entire train with vicious onslaughts of heat that could challenge the sun's temperature.
"Hello, hello! Please, take a seat." The pudgy man in the last train compartment was telling a small gathering of six students. The kids glanced at one another uneasily before finding seats next to people they knew and farthest from those they didn't. Professor Slughorn wore an oblivious smile. "I'm sure all of you are wondering why I called you here." He started once everyone situated themselves accordingly. "I run a little club, the Slug Club, strictly for Hogwart's most promising young students." He winked at everyone then, as if he was sharing a big secret. "You would do well to – oh! Ho-ho! Why hello there!" The compartment looked over to see Ginny Weasley sliding through the door. "Look out boys, this one casts a mean Bat-Bogey." Clara saw Ginny blush as she went to squeeze in next to Harry.
"Now, back to quick business. You only have a few more minutes to endure of me." His chuckles were met with silence. "Yes, well, I haven't been wrong about a student yet, so those of you who enter my group will do well to keep your spot. I have infinite connections with very important people, I might add, which will do lots of good…" Hermione zoned out of Slughorn's speech, something unusual for her, but something was calling her attention. Next to her, Blaise was staring quite oddly at the new arrival, with a strange glint in his eyes. Clara looked at Ginny, who seemed more aware that Harry was sitting next to her then the boy staring at her. Clara nudged her cousin in the rib.
"Ow!" He hissed. Clara widened her eyes meaningfully, taking a sharp glance at Ms. Weasley, before turning back to Slughorn.
Blaise couldn't possibly… No, Clara reassured herself. That's ridiculous.
"Pansy, get off me!"
Back in the Slytherin compartment, for the past hour, the inhabitants had been watching as a rather pathetic Pansy Parkinson made rather pathetic attempts at Draco Malfoy's attention. First, she began touching his hair, but her hand had been pushed away with annoyance; it was far too hot to have any kind of contact. Then she tried whining, but Draco was having none of that, and stood up, announcing he had to see about someone on the train. Clara had very urgently jerked her head towards Blaise, reminding him of their deal.
"Why don't I go with you?" Blaise offered.
"No." Draco said shortly, and he was already gone before another word was spoken. The boy had come back a few minutes later in higher spirits.
But when he sat down again, Pansy had not so subtly wriggled her way through his arm and tried to snuggle closely. He hadn't reacted too kindly.
"Fine." She huffed. She crossed her arm and glared dangerously out the window. There were a few minutes of heavy breathing in the cabin as everyone fanned themselves with their meager hands. All of their spells had been overpowered by the strength of the heat hex, and even Clara's magic had minimal effects. Pansy's hard gaze softened in a few minutes, and her mischievous expression told a surreptitious Clara that the girl was scheming.
"So Clara," Pansy said through the silence that had filled the cabin. It hadn't sounded particularly nasty.
"Pansy," Draco warned. Clara's eyes darted to him.
"What?" Parkinson asked innocently. "I just want to talk to someone." Draco kept his eyes suspicious. "So, Clara, tell me, how long have you and Draco known each other?"
Oh, what a scathing question it was. Everyone knew more or less that their marriage was arranged, though not the exact circumstances of that union ship.
"Not very long…" Clara answered carefully. Pansy's smile was filled with malicious intent.
"Oh, so you just gazed deeply into his eyes one night and knew, did you?" Her tone was conversational, but her hard undertone didn't pass anyone.
"I don't see how that's any of your business." Clara replied coldly. Pansy's smile turned into a scowl.
"You listen here you little wench-"
"Pansy, enough!" Draco cut in, a bead of sweat snaking down his face. He had seen Pansy at her nastiest, but not so early in the game. Said girl turned on Draco.
"Why are you defending her? You never told anyone off when they yelled at me! Do you fancy her, Draco? Do you?" The whole compartment, save for Theodore Nott, was leaning in, eager to hear what Draco had to say. Even Clara was slightly inclined. His explosive reply had everyone flying back to their upright positions.
"I said enough, Pansy!" His breathing was heavy and his pale face was taking on some striking colors, though probably from the heat. Pansy looked unfazed, but left the topic alone after that.
Unfortunately, Pansy's conniving mind did not rest in that time. Her eyes darted from one person to another, particularly between Clara and Jem, who were talking quietly. Pansy rolled her eyes once before addressing the only other boy she allowed herself to talk to in the cabin.
"So, Blaise, I caught you looking at the Weasley girl earlier, when she walked down the corridor. You hold something for redheads, do you not? Does she… tickle your fancy?" She examined her nails as she said this, as if Blaise was of little interest, but the quick way she snatched glances of Blaise from under her brow told otherwise.
"What the devil are you talking about?" Blaise countered smoothly. Pansy dropped back against the seat and 'hmph-ed,' annoyed that none of her plans of conversation were cooking properly. Clara and Jem, on the other hand, were alerted to the color that had entered his cheeks at the question, and shared a sly glance with each other.
From that point on, the journey was quiet. Pansy, for the most part, refrained from snide comments or questions, and sat glaring at Clara for a greater portion of the ride. Clara and Jem would talk quietly, and once every few minutes Blaise would try to coax Theo into discussion. The heat in the car was only getting worse and worse, but they neither did nor said anything about it. It was some time before Clara looked at her watch and announced Hogwarts would be approaching within the hour.
"I'll go first. I can't stand it in here a moment longer." Pansy declared. She opened the door with a flourish and stepped out, sliding it lazily behind her. Theodore followed closely behind, mumbling something along the lines of "Too bloody hot." With Pansy gone from the compartment, everyone could finally move and relax.
"Finally." Blaise breathed, sliding deeper into his seat. Something white flashed before Clara's eyes as she desperately tried to fan away the amazing heat. She thought she was seeing stars.
"How much worse can this get?" Clara complained faintly, pushing her sleeves up to her armpits, the damp heat making it harder to manage the fabric against her skin. Jem, next to her, did the same. "Why haven't we opened a window yet?" It took Clara a couple of seconds to realize the compartment had gone still.
"Clara," Blaise started quietly. "What is that?" Clara had been so caught up in the heat that she forgot the ugly mark engraved on her arm. She gasped.
"Oh my-" She struggled to shove her sleeve back down her sticky arm, but the damage was already done. Draco's face was tight and unreadable, but there was trouble behind his eyes. Clara buried her face in her hands.
"What happened?" Blaise subtly demanded, remarkably gaining control over his wild emotions. He was sitting straight in his seat now. Clara never mentioned that she had been branded as well. He repeated the question to Draco when Clara didn't answer him.
"What the bloody hell do you think happened?" Draco mumbled under his breath. Blaise slumped again.
"Well, excuse me for taking an interest in current affairs." Blaise said, bitterly sarcastic. The cabin fell into silence again. Clara lifted her head from her hands and put one on Blaise's arm.
"It's OK, Blaise." She whispered. Blaise looked at her; she met his gaze.
"Is it OK?" Blaise's question didn't really sound like one, and his gaze was too piercing for Clara to take, so she looked away. Another pair of eyes met hers.
Draco was unconsciously observing Clara. She was so fragile, and her eyes were so soft, that he couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest at watching her disoriented state. Their eyes connected and Clara realized he knew how she felt. He felt the same way, confused and unsure what to expect. This business was a scary one, and both had no way of knowing how it would end. In that moment they shared a thought, a silent communication that they each understood the other's plight. Clara's eyes widened and the gaze held for a moment more before Draco turned and looked out the window.
"It will be." She said quietly, looking out of the window, too. Even though she didn't feel it, and even though she didn't know it, Clara's words were a promise to herself, and, if he'd let her, a promise to Draco.
"Well, that was a nice, luxurious ride." Blaise said while stretching his long arms and legs. Theodore and Pansy had never returned, so there was a lot more space in the compartment now. Next to him, Clara and Jem were preparing to stand up. Clara glanced over at Draco across from her and saw him staring at the luggage rack. Her heart stopped as she realized what he was looking at.
"After you, ladies." Blaise said with an elegant sweep of his hand. There was no sign of anger on his face anymore – he had gotten over the news quickly.
"Er, you go on without me. I have to get something from my trunk." Clara said. Blaise glanced at Draco before shrugging his shoulders and walking out after Jem. Draco looked at Clara when they were alone.
Clara had only just remembered the odd flashing in front of her eyes just before she had revealed the mark on her inner forearm. Her mind whispered the truth of what that had been. Harry… Who was the one with a means of turning themselves invisible? Who was the one stupid enough to actually enter the Slytherin compartment in hopes of getting information? His name filled her thoughts in absolute certainty. Harry Potter was on top of the luggage rack, and Draco was waiting for him.
"Just get what you need and leave." Draco growled.
"Why are you in such a hurry to get me out of here?" Clara snapped. He didn't answer her. She gripped the handle and swung the trunk. She moved it in a way that it consumed the entire rack – and would hit any unknown beings hiding there.
She sighed in relief when the trunk came down without any problems. She clicked it open, fishing around for good measure, before extracting a small candy dispenser. It was trivial, but served its purpose.
"That's what you needed?" Draco scoffed. He seemed annoyed.
"Yes, what does it matter to you?" She answered stoically. Draco's face darkened. Walking smoothly and without hesitation, Clara made her way out of the train and down the path towards the Thestral drawn carriages.
Clara couldn't have been more discontented with the situation. Next to her, so arrogantly speaking to all his "royal subjects" was Draco, divulging his onlookers in a very crafty story about something another that she didn't care to pay any attention to. She wished Jem was nearby to talk to, but alas, she was three people away, next to Blaise, so Clara was left to her own devices. None of which were any good, mind you. The best thing she could do was take frequent surreptitious glances across the room, at the Gryffindor table, and hope to spot someone she knew - or once knew anyway. She had just noticed Seamus Finnigan making rather crude faces at Pavarti Patil when the doors to the Great Hall opened and a nervous energy seemed to set into the atmosphere. Students began standing up from their seats to get a better look at this new comer. Whoever he was, Clara noticed, he was making a bloody mess.
Actually, it was a bloody mess. Red splotches marred the floor after him, all the way to his spot at the Gryffindor table. Next to Ronald Weasley. Clara's stomach plummeted. She looked over at Draco, sitting to her immediate right, and the fellow students slapping him on the back in congratulations. Her mouth dropped in disbelief and anger. Blaise, the traitor, was encouraging Draco, laughing at his dumb imitation of a broken nose with the rest of the lousy lot. Clara opened her mouth to say something truly nasty when the room went quiet and every set of eyes in the hall looked up to the podium. Dumbledore was beginning his welcome speech.
Clara turned her eyes to the venerable figure reluctantly.
"Good evening everyone." The old man said with a warm smile on his face. "Welcome, to those of you who are just arriving to Hogwarts, and welcome back to everyone else!" The hall erupted into vivacious applaud for the beginning of the new term. Clara could not find it in her to cheer with them. The merriment died down at the headmaster's hand.
"Before we begin our feast, there are a few announcements I must make..." Dumbledore began. Clara was still fuming, but listening intently, until a movement to her right caught her attention.
Draco, in all his audacity, was bored. The old dragon had nothing to tell him that he hadn't already heard every welcoming feast of his life. However, despite the similar feelings he shared with all of his school mates, they all sat diligently, paying apt attention to Dumbledore's every word. So Draco did what any other man his age would do in any similar situation: He practiced his magic.
Clara's eyes knit together in frustration as Draco levitated his spoon in the air. He was in his own little world, completely engulfed in his trick. Anger boiled in Clara's veins. First, he bloodies Harry up, and next, he won't even acknowledge the headmaster's presence! Well, this was simply…
Clara raised her hand and with a slam that resonated around the room's silence, she brought the spoon down hard against the table's wooden surface. All her anger and pent up hostility went into the motion so that it seemed to break a sound barrier in the castle. Several heads in the room whipped around just in time to witness Clara Claret turning away from her soon-to-be, and Draco Malfoy glaring daggers at the back of her pretty little head. Dumbledore continued without the hint of having noticed any of the interaction. Clara smiled contentedly, feeling very happy and very relieved to have gotten that out of her system.
She didn't yet know what she would have to answer to later.
After plates had been cleared and the food devoured, Dumbledore bid everyone goodnight and blissful dreams. The Head Boy and Girl of Slytherin – two grimy looking seventh years – took no time in calling all the prefects to order. Draco got up and walked over without so much as a glance at Clara – not that she expected him to. Besides, she was still furious about the "Harry incident."
"C'mon Clara. We'll show you to the common room." Jem said behind her. Blaise was there, too.
How could I have missed him? Clara pounded herself with on their way to the Slytherin common room. She should have been paying more attention to her surroundings, but the girl was too upset about Harry. He must have been right there, right in front of her, but she had somehow missed it, and he had gotten his nose stamped on by Draco Malfoy.
The exit from the Great Hall was jammed, what with all the students rushing out at once. As one of the last few Slytherins to leave, Blaise, Jemma, and Clara ended up right next to three particularly ruffled Gryffindors.
"Ron, you idiot!" Clara, who was closest to the trio, heard Ginny's remark. "How did you even manage a spell that powerful on the train? Just think of what Hermione will say when I-" A wave in the crowd pushed Clara sideways, right into Ginny's shoulder. Clara flinched. Ginny vehemently turned her head to face the culprit. The red head's eyes hardened.
"Watch where you're going, Malfoy." She spat at a stunned Clara. Behind her, Jemma took her arm and pulled her away, towards the dungeons. Jem looked at her cousin sympathetically.
"What was that all about?" Jem asked.
"I don't know." Clara answered honestly, still in shock. "I just accidentally bumped into her, and – and she called me a Malfoy." That, more than anything else, shook Clara. Was she already labeled a Malfoy without being married to him? Was that how she was to be treated?
"It'll be alright, Clara. We're here for you." Jem consoled and Clara had to smile. It was moments of friendship like this when Clara could tolerate her life as it was. For that, she thanked Jem.
Their walk to the dungeons ended in front of the stone wall door, which opened at the word "Stonehenge." The scene they were met with was a curious one.
"Listen Crabbe, I doubt your father would have any problem with this." Draco spat. There were three figures in the empty common room: Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, huddled amongst each other. It looked like Draco was bullying them into something. "You either, Goyle." Draco spat. The door to the common room slammed shut and the three whipped around to see who entered. Draco's face hardened.
"Remember what I told you." Draco said to Crabbe and Goyle before stalking away to the boys dormitory.
I wonder what that was all about. Hermione wondered. Draco wouldn't actually be stupid enough to go to them for help, would he? She continued to think as she gazed on at a sheepish Crabbe and Goyle. They hurried from the room so as not to be questioned.
"That was…" Jem started.
"Odd." Blaise finished for her. The girls nodded. Blaise yawned. "Well, the only thing left to do now is go to bed, I suppose. Good night ladies." He bowed in mock courtesy and made for his dormitory. "Oh, and Jem? Do try to keep your snoring down. For the other ladies."
"Blaise!"
Clara could not make sleep come to her. The gnawing reminder that Draco was up to something secretive kept her awake and wondering what he could be doing. It didn't help that every enemy she'd ever had were within spitting distance of where she slept. Crabbe and Goyle? What was he going on about? And what wouldn't Crabbe's father, a renowned Death Eater, have any problem with? Nothing made sense at the moment and her attempts at sane reasoning were fruitless at this time of night. She turned over, frustrated.
Clara was not very accustomed to not knowing the answer to serious questions, and this matter was no objection.
Draco Malfoy's mind would not stop winding. He brought his hand to his face and ran it through his hair. Do you fancy her, Draco? Do you? Pansy's words rung clearly in his head, forcing him to think about his feelings, a subject no proper man wanted to think about.
Whatever Draco was feeling for Clara, it wasn't hate. In fact, he was sure it wasn't dislike, either. The golden hazel of her wide eyes was captivating and made it hard for anyone to think ill of her. He was trying so desperately to think of her as Granger, but with every passing day, and with every time he saw her, that task became harder and harder to manage. He had to stay bitter and nasty in attitude to avoid falling against those heavenly spheres and succumbing to every meager whim of hers, which he felt in his blood would happen if he let his guard down. He sighed uncharacteristically and shifted loudly.
The problems of a young man in distant love.
So we finally see the extent of Draco's feelings, though it doesn't seem that he knows them himself…
I want to give a big THANK YOU to all of my reviewers; I really couldn't have done it without you.
I don't know when the next chapter is going to be up, but I'll try my best to update within the next two weeks.
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