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 Rowling) and my favorite cat, Sterling.

xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Trying to be regular with my updates again. Love you all for sticking around. Oh and big shout out to the Guest that reviewed. Got my butt in gear. As usual favorite, follow and review. It means a lot to me! Anywho, that's about it... so Enjoy! xXx

Chapter 15

"He wants immortality, and he found it, in a Phoenix egg...

...It wasn't the only experiment He did on me...

...One day I refused to bend to his will...

...He pushed me off the tower. I- I... died...

...You were reborn..."

Draco's parents loved him. That was the one thing he knew would always remain, the one thing that he could be sure of. So when they taught him that purebloods were better than others, he believed them. When they said the Dark Lord was always right, he believed them. It physically hurt him to hear their screams when the Dark Lord was angry, but, when they told it was all for the best, he believed them. If his father ever lashed out at him, Draco still knew that it was for his own good, that they wouldn't do anything to harm him, nothing serious, anyways. But now... he wasn't sure they were right. He certainly wasn't sure that what the Dark Lord did was for the good of Purebloods, or anyone. If he killed his own daughter for the sake of power, what was protecting Draco's parents, but his own obedience? He shivered at the thought. What would happen if he didn't obey? What would happen to his parents? What if he failed?

He looked back up at the girl across from him. What in Merlin's name was he supposed to say to her? He had so many questions and he had no answer to any off them, so he simply let his Mask fall and reveal the uncharacteristic sympathy show through. He reached out, covering her hand with his own.

"Oura," It was a whisper, barely audible, but it was all he had to give her.

Her head to shot up in surprise, green eyes seeming brighter through the thin layer of tears that filled her eyes. Draco had no idea how long they stayed there like that, not talking, merely giving comfort to each other. After what seemed like forever, Marvolo... No, no. She was Oura now. She had opened up to him, spoke of what she fear, what had happened in her scarred life, calling her by her first name was the least he could do. Things had changed between the two of them. So after forever, and then some, Oura pulled her hand back, and wiped the tears from her eyes. Draco's hand retracted automatically, and he studied her warily, as though he was afraid she would shatter before his eyes.

"Thank you, Draco." Her own whisper matched his. She smiled gently and gave him a half-hearted glare.

"This doesn't change anything out there, you know." She said nodding to the heavy oaken doors. "We're still bitter enemies to the rest of the world."

The moment was broken. Draco's sneer fell back into place.

"Of course. I wouldn't want to soil my reputation by being all chummy with a Ravenclaw who's friends with Looney Lovegood." She really glared at him that time.

"She's not crazy, she's just... unique."

He snorted. "That's one way to put it."

She shook her head, smiling softly, and looked around. "What time is it?"

Draco rolled at his eyes and went to cast a Tempus charm when he heard Oura gasp. He glanced in her direction, to see her staring at an obscure clock that had appeared over the counter. It was about the same shape and size of a normal muggle wall clock, but that was where the similarities ended. Instead of numbers, the face of the clock, made of cherry-wood, was covered with different phrases, like "home," "school", "work", "travelling", "lost", "hospital", "Manor", "prison", "acquaintance's house", and "mortal peril", all painted in golden, ornate script. There were five matching, golden hands on the clock, names engraved elegantly on each one. The two hands that pointed to "Manor" read "Narcissa" and "Lucius". Two more pointed to "home", which read his and Oura's names. The final hand indicating "acquaintance's house" displayed the name "Rosaline".

"She's okay." Oura's voice cracked in relief.

Draco dragged his gaze from the odd clock to the girl who had collapsed onto her knees. Walking closer, the blonde held out his hand. His curiosity got the better of him and his question broke through the obviously private moment of relief before he could stop it.

"Who?"

"My half-sister." She took his offered hand and hauled herself up.

"About 2 years ago, I forced my mum out to have a good time and maybe meet someone to help her forget about my father." She still couldn't say the word without grinding her teeth and spitting it venomously. "She had too much to drink that night and came stumbling in at 3 in the morning. Rosaline was born 9 months later. Mum couldn't remember anything from that night. But, Merlin, did she love Rosaline. I did, too. She was the sweetest babe I ever saw. It didn't matter that she didn't have a dad. Between the two of us, she was more than taken care of. Mum brought her with us and when no one said anything about her, I was scared out of my mind that he had killed her as well. But she's alive... She's okay." She smiled up at the clock. "I love this room."

"Do you have any idea where she might be?" He questioned a bit hesitantly.

"No," She replied, still smiling, "But we have enough friends, both here and in France, that I'm sure she's perfectly safe."

Draco smiled at her joyful relief and glanced at the clock again. "I wonder, though. Why does the clock say that we're 'home'? We are at Hogwarts." Oura furrowed her eyebrows and followed his gaze. Then her face lit up.

"I've got an idea. Gimme a second." And with that she hurried over to the doors, smiling at him as she slipped outside. He watched the door a bit confused, before turning to the clock again. Now Oura's hand turned towards "school". Draco's bewildered frown slowly turned upwards as he realized what she had thought of. Then, Oura's hand spun back up to "home" and Draco twisted around to see Oura walk through the doors. He nodded at her silent inquiry.

"It pointed to 'school' as soon as you left."

"Brilliant!" Oura beamed at him, and Draco found himself wishing she would do it more often, she was pretty when she smiled. He shook his head. What was she doing to him? He turned his attention back to the

redhead, "...wonder why it considers this our home. I have to explore the extent of this room with Hermione."

They both froze, grins falling as realization crashed back onto their shoulders. Hermione was part of the outside world. Part of reality. A part that Draco hated, and Oura... No, her name was Marvolo. A part Marvolo liked. Ah well, it had been a nice illusion for a while. The platinum-haired boy turned away, his Mask falling back in place, and cast a quick Tempus charm.

"It's ten to nine. If we leave now, we can still make it back."

"Right, yeah."

The real world was still out there. Nothing had changed, not really. Oura sighed as Draco turned away, becoming stiff once again. She watched as he cast a charm and told her the time.

"Right, yeah." She went and collected her bag without looking at him.

"Oh, Marvolo," Oura crumpled on the inside at the use of her last name. On the surface, she simply stiffened, and turned, raising an eyebrow coldly. "You left this here last night."

He tossed her something and she caught it without looking away from the boy in front of her. Dra... Malfoy, spun on his heel, leaving the room with a flourish. She looked down at the object in her hand. It was the silver dragon she had rolled around the parchment. A small drop of water fell into her open hand and ran down the back of the inanimate object. She reached up and felt her cheeks wet. What? Why...why was she was crying again? And over Dr... Malfoy? There wasn't even anything to cry over. He used her first name to comfort her, but that was it, nothing more. Why did it matter that he had switched back to her last name? It didn't. The whole night had been emotional, her tears ducts must have been too tired to distinguish what was worthy of tears after everything. Malfoycertainly wasn't, worthy that is. Oura shook her head and wiped the water from her face, pocketing the dragon and slipped through the heavy oaken doors. The last two nights had been hell. She needed sleep.