DRACO

Draco was waiting outside the Ravenclaw common room, unable to enter (because the knocker had refused to give him a riddle), when Quinn Jefferies came out, Theresa's arm over his shoulder. He was supporting her. At first Draco thought there were bruises on her throat, but then he realized it was a trick of the light. "What's wrong with her?"

"She collapsed," Quinn explained. "A seizure, maybe. She was talking about her pet cat when she just slumped sideways, twitching. I'm taking her to the hospital wing."

Warning bells sounded in Draco's head. She doesn't have a pet cat. "Okay," he said. "I'll come with."

Without waiting for an affirmative, he looped Theresa's other arm around his neck. How can I check her pulse without being too obvious? As they moved into the torchlight he saw that what he thought were a trick of the shadows were indeed bruises on her throat. He didn't! He's going down.

They were in the hallway leading to the hospital wing when Quinn froze, looking like a startled cat. "Hang on, I need to check something," he said. He let go of Theresa so suddenly that Draco stumbled with the added weight. As soon as the Ravenclaw Keeper had gone out of sight, Draco settled Theresa down on the ground leaning against a pillar, drew his wand, and slipped into the shadows.

Sooner or later Quinn would come back.

And Draco would be ready.

"We've got a problem," Quinn shouted, running back around the corner. "A big—Malfoy?"

Draco moved from the shadows, a death glare on his face. "Tess doesn't have a cat," he snarled, and Stunned Quinn. Then he ran to Theresa, dropping to his knees. "Theresa! Theresa, are you okay?" He felt for her pulse. It was faint, very faint. He scooped her up and ran. Once he was far enough away from Quinn, he set her on the floor and crouched nearby, his wand still out.

A groan escaped Theresa. Draco looked over to see her eyelids fluttering. "Draco . . ." Suddenly she sat up. "Draco!"

Draco shot to her, one hand on her back, holding her up. "What's wrong?"

"Quinn—he's a Death Eater!" Theresa looked terrified. "He's a Death Eater and he used Sectumsempra on Raven!"

"Can you walk," Draco demanded.

"Yes."

"Can you run?"

"I think so."

"Go save Raven," Draco commanded. "The countercurse is Vulnera Sanentur. You have to say it three times while drawing your wand tip over her wounds, or else it doesn't work. I'll take care of Quinn."

Theresa heaved herself to her feet, painfully using Draco as a prop to help her up. "Vulnera Sanentur," she repeated. "Got it."

Then she took off, running faster than Draco would have thought. Within two seconds she was out of sight.

Draco stood, flipping his wand in his fingers, and went to find Quinn. But when he got to the place where the Death Eater had been, Quinn was not there.

Headmaster.

Draco was running like he had fire on his heels before he knew it. The hospital wing was quite close to the headmaster's office. "Dark Death," he gasped at the gargoyle. It sprang aside and Draco took the steps four at a time, bursting into Snape's office without knocking. Quinn was standing at the desk, saying, "Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater, Professor, and he tried to strangle Tess!"

"STUPEFY," Draco roared. Quinn fell over backwards at the red light. Neither Draco nor Snape moved to catch him.

"You idiot," Snape drawled, standing and leaning over the desk to look at Quinn. "I know Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater. And I know that he would never harm a hair on my daughter's body. After last term, at least." He looked up. "What is it?"

"Well, for starters," Draco gasped out, "it's Quinn who's a Death Eater, and it's Quinn who hurt Theresa, not me. You can ask her if you like." He bent over, resting his hands on his knees, to catch his breath.

"Hands on head," Snape ordered. "It's better if you put your hands on your hips or your head to catch your breath." He flicked his wand at Quinn. There was no visible change, but Draco figured that he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. Snape strode out of his office. "Come with me."

Draco followed obediently. "Sir . . . is there any way to get to Ravenclaw Tower faster than walking?"

"Of course," Snape said. "If you can fly." He kept on walking.

Draco shot a glare at him. "I can on a broom. Are you in any hurry to make sure your daughter's okay, or are you going to just stroll along her like—"

"Quiet!" Snape hissed, looking around furtively. "Fine." He took off in a steady jog. Draco laughed scornfully. "Ooh, boy, you're going so fast!" He caught up in a few strides. "I'm going to run ahead."

Snape nodded.

Draco's emergency run kicked in and he sped off. His emergency running was a sort of built-in defense mechanism, where he ran faster than anyone else in the world would have thought he could run. He reached the Ravenclaw Tower common room entrance within a minute and skidded to a halt. Theresa was crouched in front of the door, stricken. Draco knelt beside her. "What's wrong?"

"I can't figure out the riddle," Theresa gasped. "Raven needs my help and I can't figure out the riddle!"

Draco looked up at the knocker. "Riddle, please?"

"It caused the destruction of Troy; the worst of tragedies and numerous maladies; yet it is chased, desired, and fought for. What is it?"

The knocker stared down accusingly at Draco, who thought for a moment and answered, "Love."

"That was her riddle," the knocker said. "Now for yours."

Theresa whimpered. Draco put a protective hand on her shoulder.

"Made by God in pairs, separated at birth on Earth; found after years of search, inseparable for the rest of time."

Draco shook his head, looking at Theresa. She rose, gripping his hand, and told the knocker, "Soul mates."

"Very good," the knocker said, and the door opened.

Theresa shot through like a rocket, dragging Draco with her, and dashed through the common room, behind a white marble statue of who must be Rowena Ravenclaw, and through another door. Draco lingered in the common room, looking around in it appreciatively. It was a wide, circular room with a midnight blue carpet, arched windows with blue and silver hangings, and a domed deep blue ceiling painted with stars. It was furnished with sofas, armchairs, tables, and many bookcases. On the wall to the right of the door was a curved stone fireplace with a blue and silver mantel, above which hung a mirror. Draco whistled softly, crossing to one of the windows. Even in the dim lighting of the evening, he could see the lake, the Quidditch pitch, the Forbidden Forest, the Herbology gardens, and the surrounding mountains. The wind whistling around the tower reminded him of the lapping waves. It was strangely soothing.

"Why are you in here?"

Draco turned to see a fourth year glaring up at him, hands on hips. She had short black hair and sharp brown eyes. "I said," she said, not giving him time to answer, "why are you in here?"

"I'm with Tess," Draco explained, using Theresa's nickname for understanding. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

"Aren't you?" the girl challenged.

"No," Draco said. "I'm a seventh year. I can do what I want. Also I'm of age, which makes it legal for me to be in here." He brushed past her, heading for the door that Theresa had gone through, but before he reached it, she burst out. "I've left Raven with Jenn for now, but she's not doing well." The Ravenclaw was white-faced. "I'm going to send for Madam Pomfrey. You can come with me . . ."

"Can't you cast a Patronus?" Draco asked, catching her by the arm before she could leave the common room.

"Expecto Patronum," Theresa exclaimed. A snow leopard leapt from the end of her wand and passed through the door. Draco smiled despite the circumstances. "I've learned a lot since when you cast that at me last term."

"Oh, I don't know." Theresa also smiled, some color coming back to her face. "Maybe . . . you've learned not to mess with me." She noticed the fourth year by the window and said sharply, "Hey! Yvonne! Go to bed!"

Yvonne shot a nasty look at Theresa, then retreated through the door.

Draco knocked Theresa's knees out from under her, scooping her up in a bridal carry. She yelped in protest but nestled her head against his chest. "You're so—"

"Awesome?" Draco suggested. "Charming? Perfect? Smart? All of the above?"

"I was going to say cliché," Theresa said, "but what you listed would work too."

Draco planted a kiss on her head. "Cliché. Pfft." He stood there like that for a few minutes, then said, "I have two things to ask you. One: can I let you down, and two: can you teach me how to cast a Patronus?"

Theresa slipped out of his arms. "I don't know . . . no Death Eater has ever been able to cast one, except for Professor Snape . . ." She frowned. "Why in the heck would he be able to cast one . . ." With a quick glance at Draco, she went on, "I think probably I could. You seem nice enough. No offense—I mean you're not evil or anything like that Lestrange hag. First up, you need to have your wand." She saw the wand in Draco's hand and nodded. "Good. Now think of a happy memory. The happiest you've ever been. Just so you know, I will be very surprised if you can produce a Patronus on your first try. You know what the incantation is. When you think you're ready, say it. Also, it requires concentration. As long as you're concentrating, you can keep the spell up."

"So you're concentrating right now?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Theresa answered.

Draco collected his thoughts. What was his happiest memory? Happiest memory . . . Diagon Alley, for the first time? He glanced at Theresa, then realized exactly what his happiest memory was.

"Expecto Patronum," he said softly, focusing on that memory and never letting it go.

A wisp of silver floated from his wand and took the shape of a lion. It bounded around the room, roaring. Theresa squealed, making Draco lose his concentration. He lowered his wand as the lion disappeared.

Theresa stared at him. Then she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. "You are amazing."

Draco kissed her again, feeling a wave of happiness rising up in him.

"Try again," Theresa encouraged.

He was just lifting his wand when the door burst open and Madam Pomfrey hurried in, followed by Professors Snape and Flitwick.

"She's in there," Theresa told Professor Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey, pointing at the dormitories. After they had passed through the door, Snape rushed to Theresa. "You aren't hurt?"

Theresa felt her throat. "It's a little bruised . . . nothing I can't handle. Did you take care of Quinn?"

"Oh, yes," Snape said, with an evil glint entering his eyes. "He's not going anywhere except to hell."

Theresa shook her head sadly, moving closer to Draco. "I thought he was so nice . . . I wish he hadn't turned out the way he did."

Draco put his arm around her shoulders. "Who's going to be your new Quidditch captain?"

"Least of my worries," Theresa told him, leaning into him. "Professor . . . Father, Dad, whatever you want me to call you . . . who was my mother?"

Snape's voice shook as he spoke. "She was beautiful . . . black hair, brown eyes . . . James Potter's sister. I hated myself for falling in love with her. We married secretly . . . ." Tears—yes, tears—glistened in his eyes. "Then James, curse that man, found out and forbade her to see me again. He told his father. Neither parent nor brother approved. The marriage was annulled. She was locked away in her house. I never saw Indigo again. From that moment on, I hated James. He had stolen my love—twice."

"Twice?" Draco had to ask.

"First it was Lily Evans," Snape said. "I loved her so much my Patronus matched hers. But she hated me . . . so I grew to despise her. Then it was Indigo, stolen away by her protective brother." A sneer crossed his face. "I was glad when James died. I sent an owl to find Indigo. As it turned out, she had married a Muggle." Eyes full of pain, he looked up at Theresa. "You remind me so much of her it hurts."

"Let me get this straight," Theresa said slowly. "I'm related to Harry Potter?"

Draco felt the old hatred of Potter rise up in him, but he squelched it down for Tess's sake.

Snape nodded. "You are his cousin."

"How come I . . . I . . ." Theresa seemed at a loss for words. "How did I go to live with the Wilfords?"

"I can only imagine that your mother sent you there," Snape said. "She couldn't bear to look at you, I suppose. It reminded her too much of me. She was best friends with Kendra. I suppose that's what happened: I will never know. Kendra is gone: Indigo will—"

"I'm going to find her," Theresa said suddenly. "Please can I go and find her? Draco can come with me." She looked so hopeful, it made Draco's heart feel like it was being squeezed by a Burmese python.

Snape was silent for a long time. Finally he nodded. "You may."

"We'll leave—"

"The day after tomorrow," Draco interrupted. "We leave the day after tomorrow."

"Why not tomorrow?" Theresa demanded.

"Think logically," Draco pleaded. "If we leave tomorrow, we'll both be exhausted and we won't be able to think straight. Plus we need to pack and find out where on earth she might be. And we need Muggle money and wizard money and food and portable shelter in case we can't find an inn or something. Please, Theresa."

At last, she gave a single bob of her head as consent.

"Where is the student that did this?" Madam Pomfrey's voice shouted. She came charging out of the dormitories. "DRACO MALFOY, YOU—"

"It was not Draco who did that," Snape said sharply.

Flitwick came out of the dormitories much slower, his wand in the air. He was levitating Raven. "This student needs your medical expertise, in the hospital wing," he reminded Madam Pomfrey gently. "You can do your detective work at a later time."

"There's no need for detective work," Theresa muttered bitterly, loud enough for only Draco and Snape to hear. "We already know who did it. My best friend and the Captain of the Quidditch team!"

"Shh," Draco cautioned.

After the teachers had gone, Theresa gave Draco a quick kiss and shooed him out of the common room, telling him to go downstairs and catch up on sleep. He obeyed gladly.