Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.

xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Since I hadn't posted for a while, I decided to update as soon as possible. This one's pretty long, but there was no good place to cut it off. I can't promise that all of the chapters after will be this long, but I'll do my best. Anywho, that's about it... so Enjoy! xXx

Chapter 14

Marvolo wasn't at dinner that night. Draco had trying to pass the time all day after seeing her in the hall with Boot. It bugged him to see her with the Ravenclaw, though he didn't quite understand why. In the end, he decided to go flying. Being on a broom always calmed him. Something about the rush of the wind around him as he raced around the field cleared his head and usually distracted him from his life at home. Living with the Dark Lord did tend to be stressful and any diversion was welcome, especially when things got bad with his parents. Even from his wing of the Manor, he could hear their screams when the Dark Lord was angry. He shivered simply at the thought. Those screams haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. Now that he thought about it, though, he didn't remember having any dreams last night and absently wondered why.

The sound of the Great Hall doors opening pulled him back to the a couple of students had remained at Hogwarts over the break. Since next to no one was at school, Draco had plenty of room to sit by himself, while still having a good view of the entrance to the giant hall. It was a Hufflepuff that slinked through the doors and the blonde sighed again. He was hoping that Marvolo would be in the Hall, so he could leave when she did, maybe getting his answers sooner rather than later. However, the unnatural redhead never graced the Ravenclaw table. He distraitly pondered her hair colour. It couldn't be natural, could it? Her locks were bright red, with low lights of deep brown. Almost flame-like. He shook his head. Thinking about Marvolo's hair? He must've be going crazy.

Draco stabbed at his treacle tart with his spoon and ate the last piece, downing the rest of his pumpkin juice before rising abruptly, too impatient any longer. He swept out of the Hall and arrived at the Room without a hitch, meeting no one on the way. He paced quickly, but hesitated as he reached for the knob. Marvolo would expect him to have questions, and he did have them, somewhere, unformed in his mind. He swiftly formulated them and pushed open the great oak door faltering no more.

The room was dark as he pushed his way in on silent hinges. The sun had set early because it was winter and the only light came from the dying embers in the fireplace and the moonlight that filtered in through the tall cathedral windows. Leaning against the frame was Oura... no, Marvolo. Marvolo hadn't moved since he entered and Draco quietly padded closer. He stopped behind her and debated whether or not to let his presence be known. The Slytherin went to open his mouth when the girl before him began to speak.

"Amazing how something can be so beautiful and yet cause so much pain." It was a soft whisper, but in the silence of the room, the words ricocheted off the high ceiling, resonating in his ears. She turned to look at him, face bathed in silver moonlight, her eyes sad.

Draco softly stepped up to stand beside her and looked out. The Quidditch pitch was painted silver and it reminded him of the night before. Marvolo sighed and he looked at her expectantly.

"What is it like, the full moon? I bet it's beautiful. I haven't gotten a good look at for..." She trailed off and rubbed her shoulder, as though last night had taken a lot out of her.

The tired girl shook her head and turned away from the windows, waving her wand. The room slowly became brighter, though Draco couldn't find the source of the warm light. It was as though the light came from the walls themselves. He followed her over to the long cherry-wood counter and pulled out the stool across from where she sat. Draco cocked an eyebrow at her and waited for her to say something. Marvolo rubbed her neck subconsciously and took a deep breath, lips pursed, before she began.

Oura was tired. She was done trying to come up with an excuse, a lie, to tell the Slytherin, so when the blonde entered the Room of Requirement, she had finally decided the truth would be the best. A lot less of a hassle and she wouldn't have to remember every part of a lie. To be honest, the redhead hadn't meant to be so sad and mysterious when she was running what she was going to say through her mind. The words had just tumbled out when she noticed Malfoy silently padding up behind her. Luckily, he hadn't said anything, just let her lead him to the counter that was across the far wall. She wished absently that she had some pumpkin juice, and jumped when a loud crack marked the arrival of a house elf. She made her request quietly and it disappeared, coming back within seconds, placing the glasses on the counter and dissapperating again before the redhead could give her thanks. She took a sip and looked around.

The Room was exactly the same as it was she had made it the night before. The bed was even there, though she didn't really need it anymore. Oura saw no reason to banish, though. It tied the decor together. Yes, she knew she was procrastinating. A random seizure was not the easiest thing to explain to one's rescuer. And she used the term "rescuer" quite loosely. She looked at Malfoy, and took a deep breath, resolving to finish this as soon as possible.

"How to explain this... let's see... Do you have a specific question, or do you want the whole story?"

"Why did you practically have a violent breakdown over nothing?" Right to point then.

She laughed humorlessly. "The moonlight."

"The moonlight?" He asked incredulously. He took a gulp from the mug in front of him.

"The full moonlight."

"You mean... you're- you're a werewolf?" His eyes widened in alarm, backing up a bit in the chair and she chuckled dryly.

"Did I turn into a giant hairy beast and rip you limb from limb? Didn't think so. No, I wasn't bitten by a werewolf, not even one that was a human. I drank the saliva of one, though."

"Why?"

"Because I just love a cuppa with werewolf-spit in the morning," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why do you think? Because my lovely father laced my cereal with it when I was, what, six? It was a while ago." She smiled bitterly at Malfoy's shocked expression.

"Oh? You didn't think that your marvelous Dark Lord would do such a thing? Have you met him, 'cause I don't think you have."

"But, why? There must be some reason."

"No, you're right, He has a purpose for everything He does. My father thought that if one would drink the saliva of the werewolves, that person could either change at will, or at least be sentient when a change occurred. He was obviously wrong." She looked at Malfoy and raised her eyebrows when he still looked shocked.

"That doesn't even make sense. It could have killed you."

"That's why he tested it on me first. He and his followers were too valuable to risk, so his own daughter would be perfect to keep all his experiments under surveillance in case something should happen. It's not like I wasn't expendable, or anything. He could have used any prisoner, I just happened to be convenient. Now, don't look to shocked, word might get back to my daddy dearest, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" Suddenly, it was like she snapped her fingers in front of his face, bringing him back to the present. A neutral mask simply fell into place without any effort. It must have been something he did regularly. She wouldn't be surprised, though. Living with her father definitely demanded living with an impassive expression. The Mask was something she mastered early in her childhood.

"It wasn't the only experiment He did on me. That much is certain. All in effort to obtain more power, obviously. Most of them only had temporary effects, and none of them were actually effective. Well, except one." Oura sighed and rubbed her temples.

"What about your hair?" She raised her eyebrows.

What about her-

Oh, right. Fire. She had almost forgotten that he had saw that.

"He wants immortality, and he found it, in a Phoenix egg." She bulled over Malfoy's obvious question even as he was opening his mouth to ask it. "When a Phoenix reaches the age of 10,000, it can lay an egg, to help the population grow, if they so decide. They can also end the cycle of rebirth, though very few do. They have to become extremely wise, I believe."

"They can die?" Malfoy cocked an eyebrow skeptically. "And how come there are no records of this?"

"Yes, they can. Something about realizing that life and death go hand in hand, and no one can truly live if they do not eventually die. As to how there are no records, there are. My father fed me the egg when I was 12, I believe, and since then I did extensive research on the birds. There are very few accounts, but from what I gathered, Phoenixes have extremely powerful magic, magic so strong that it can cast complex memory charms on all humans they had contact with. Only the most powerful witches and wizards are unaffected, and, it seems, those that are closest to the sentient birds. A death hasn't occurred for centuries, though."

"And the flaming hair?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Just a side effect of the egg, it doesn't hurt me at all, though it is annoying when it burns my robes. I haven't found a spell that retards Phoenix fire." She smiled at him softly, taking another sip of her pumpkin juice.

"You said were 12 when the Dark Lord gave you the egg. How is that possible? I thought that you had fled to France. That's what my mother said, anyways." The smile quickly slipped off her face and she stared down into her cup.

"Yeah," She muttered and swirled the liquid around in her mug. "Like I said, one of the experiments succeeded. I don't like thinking about it." She sighed for what felt like the millionth time.

"Fire isn't the only side effect of the egg. There's a reason that my mother fled to France. As I got older, I began to understand what He was doing, even if my mother didn't. I also... He would hurt her, if she spoke out against Him." Oura shivered and pulled her glass closer into her chest. She took a swallow and set the empty mug on the counter, her hand shaking gently.

"I didn't believe what He tried to teach me. I don't know why. Maybe it was the torture of the only woman that ever loved me, or the small snakes that whispered in my ear that I didn't have to be like him. Even some snakes disliked him. Whatever it was, one day I refused to bend to his will. I was on the East Tower of our mansion when He came to me. I don't even remember what He wanted. All I know is that I looked into His eyes and finally said no. So He pushed me off the tower. I- I... died." She stopped unable to continue, dry sobs ransacking her body. Malfoy just sat there, looking dumbfounded. Only when Oura calmed some, he spoke.

"You were reborn." It was a statement, not a question. She nodded anyways.

"That caused my mum to flee to France with me, a 14 year old mind in a newborn's body."

"So, you're actually 29." Malfoy's eyes were wide as he looked at her.

"No, I was simply 14 twice. Being in that body, I experienced my childhood all over again, though this time more properly, I guess. It took me a while to reteach my body all the things I knew, but as soon as I was able to speak, my mother and I had a bunch of arguements over my father. She wanted to go back to Him. And she did, in the end. I knew He would kill her, I told her as much, but in the end, I still couldn't protect her." She looked up him, tears welling in her eyes.

Shit.

Draco had no idea how to react. And, damn, if that didn't complicate things tenfold. He ran a hand through his hair. What in Merlin's name was he going to do now?