That night, Aster decided to stay in and entertain the girls in the dormitory with tales of what Ilvermorny was like - the boys (mostly the boys) but the different mannerisms of witches across the sea. They ate it up like pumpkin pasties, excited to hear about other wizarding schools.
In reality, Io needed her sister's ability to spin a story to distract them all as she slipped out into the Slytherin common room, figuring out the best way to explore the castle without running into a prefect or worse, a professor. While all the other girls were comfortable in their pajamas, Io put on an old pair of jeans and a black jumper that was always a little too large on her. The sleeves covered her hands just enough before it was laughable.
Her boots did well to stay silent as she descended the iron stairs into the common room. It was nearly midnight. The Black Lake already contributed to the darkness in the dungeons, and at this hour, the lights were all dim. The emerald green lamp shades cast an ivy glow on the walls and tables.
Io visualized her feline Animagus form in her mind, feeling the fibers of her sweater melt into her skin until her eye level was no longer one of a human's. She gleaned at the legs of the table in front of the fireplace.
When she first tried out her Animagus transformation, it was terrifying. The world looks so enormous through the eyes of a cat. Initially she developed this fear of someone stepping on her. God forbid she ever met anyone who was allergic to cats or simply hated them.
She trotted through the common room with only the sounds of bubbles climbing the giant window to distract her. She nearly got to the door when it opened, and someone walked in, pausing to crouch down to observe the new house pet that must have escaped a room.
Draco Malfoy looked at the cat curiously and could swear that he'd never seen a cat with gray eyes before - blue, yes, like his own, but never this shade of gray that neared silver. He hovered his hand over the cat's head before suddenly grabbing the thick patch of fur on the back of its neck, carrying it over to the couch.
Io panicked. Anyone who knew how to handle cats knew this was the way to immobilize them. She could do nothing but stare at the floor before she was abruptly dropped onto the green couch in the center of the common room.
The blonde boy pointed his wands right at her nose. "Even first years know not to let a cat roam around at night."
She blinked, lowering her head before peering up to meet his eyes again. He didn't look angry or entertained. He looked like he was just waiting for something to happen as the cat's black tail twirled around like it was amused.
If she'd chosen to be cruel, she could've just stayed as she was. Let him go a little crazy in embarrassment at yanking some random student's pet around the room. The thought of him getting comfortable and somehow bringing her to his dorm seemed more terrifying though.
Draco's face turned to silent shock as the cat's eyes did not cast away from his, slowly changing from being lost in black fur until they sat just below a black fringe. Io stayed on the couch with her legs up, looking quite relaxed despite the stress she felt.
Draco dropped his wand. "Bloody hell, Visage. I nearly threw you out of the dungeons."
"Sorry." She repositioned so that her hands rested in her lap. "It was so late, I didn't think anyone else would be here."
He sat on the table across from her. "So you're an Animagus?"
Io nodded, now avoiding his gaze. "Since I was 13. It's not… I wasn't - "
"I haven't been sleeping well." He cut her off. "Any other night, you might've been right. About no one being here, I mean."
"You walk around the castle when you can't sleep?"
"The perks of being a Prefect - albeit one who doesn't care to do any of his duties." Draco managed a weak chuckle. "If you can't sleep either, then I guess you'll have to deal with me."
"You act very differently when your friends aren't around." Io dared. As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted it. It definitely wasn't a kind thing to say, and Draco could only be described as deviously volatile. "What I mean is - "
"Then I guess you're not a friend." He sat upright, almost sounding cruel. "I haven't decided what you are to me yet."
As the moonlight continued to refract through the Black Lake, the Slytherin common room started to feel cold. The roaring fireplace dimmed until only embers were left, but Draco didn't leave. He and his maybe-friend shared the large couch sitting across from each other, doing what they could to stay amply far enough away so as not to make any more physical contact than what was necessary.
It took a lot of small talk for Draco to finally relax, comments about his first day, what he did as a Prefect, what the Hogwarts Express was like. He meant it when he said he hadn't figured out what Io was - he didn't know how to see her. The people he called friends weren't necessarily so, but they were as close as he could get to what he thought friends should be. They followed him around; they walked beside him. They gave him pats on the shoulder when he made fun of Potter, and they jeered at every joke, every shove, every small action at the expense of someone else.
Io wanted to get to know him. It was such an understatement to say she was curious. She wanted to peer into the darkest parts of his mind if only to understand why he acted the way he did. Whether or not that would lead to friendship, she was still unsure of.
"Why are you and your sister really here?" Draco asked. "This is a sad excuse for a school. Can't imagine why anyone would want to be here."
"Our Uncle wanted us to be here. Learn new things." She lied. "Maybe it's because our parents worked for the Ministry here. I'm not sure."
"Don't tell me you want to work for the Ministry." He wanted to say 'because you're better than that God awful place' but resisted.
The shift in mood made Io reconsider how she approached her response. "I don't know what I want. Our entire lives were spent learning what others wished they could. And now, here we are. Too old to relate to first years, too young to make friends with the seventh years in our classes, and too different to chat up people in our own house."
"You seem to be doing fine 'chatting me up' as you call it."
"Well, you seem to be everywhere I am. Are you following me?" She smirked.
"Not on your life, Visage." Draco almost managed a laugh.
"Io. Please." She cleared her throat. "If you or Theo keep calling me 'Visage', I'll never know if you're talking to me or Aster."
He nodded, looking down, unconsciously fiddling with the button on his shirt. "Right. Io. Force of habit, I'm afraid."
Io repositioned herself, leaning on the couch, closer to him than she was before. "Do you purposely keep everyone out, or do you not know how to let anyone in?"
The question was a little strong but appropriate for the time of day. Io watched as Draco struggled to answer, the scowl gradually appearing on his face for the first time since he sat down. But she didn't want to back down. If Aster was right and Draco really did focus on her, she knew he would find a way to answer.
Draco leaned forward. Only a foot of space separated them now. His eyes looked hollow aside from a small sliver of moonlight cast over his brow. "Why should I let you in?"
An idea slipped into her mind. A risky idea. It was a bad idea, but one she was willing to take a chance on if only to get the infamous Malfoy to let her see how his mind worked.
Io slowly reached over and grabbed his wand which was wedged in between the couch and his thigh. "I'm only doing this because I want to trust you." He flinched, thinking the worst, but calmed when she reached for his hand next.
She brought his hand up, touching the wand to her temple.
Draco's vision suddenly tunneled, like he was looking through a kaleidoscope. The Slytherin common room was no longer in sight, and it was replaced by a school building. He'd heard of buildings like this before. It was nothing like wizard architecture, but he remembered seeing photos of something like this. His father said it was a Muggle school of some kind. This must have been Ilvermorny, and it was so different from Hogwarts.
Looking harder, he could see a young girl standing in the middle of the corridor, the sight of more students wearing royal blue robes that resembled his own appearing here and there. The young girl had long sapphire-tinged black hair with a blunt fringe, and she clutched a stack of books to her chest. Next to her, another young girl with white hair stood, clutching the arm of the former.
It was Io, he soon realized. And she looked angry. Tears created a glimmering glaze over her eyes while the other girl - a very young Aster - looked scared, letting the tears stream down her cheeks, locks of white hair sticking to her neck.
An older girl who looked quite plain stood in front of them, honestly very much like the way Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle stood in front of timid first years. She towered over them, laughing.
The unnamed student mocked and jeered. "Look at her - a white rat and her dirty black rat sister. No wonder your parents abandoned you and sent you here. Must've brought the stench of the city with you - just like all the other rats!"
Io's child form stood stoically, her chest heaving. Draco swore he could almost reach out to touch her shoulder, but he resisted.
The student continued to laugh - loudly. Her voice echoed throughout the corridor as other students just joined.
Aster looked up at her sister who kept her eyes forward, lips just barely parted.
Even in a memory, Draco could feel the rage pulsating in her.
The sound of books tumbling on the floor interrupted the laughter, and it was replaced with gasps and then silence.
Io's wand was out, standing at a crisp dueling stance, and he swore he could see smoke rippling through the air.
Draco didn't understand what was happening, but he had an idea. He dueled Io in her current age, and to see that same menacing look that she had during DADA was just as grim. He turned to see where her cast struck.
The bully was no longer touching the floor, in fact she was suspended in the air - encased in a globe sized bubble of water. The longer Io held her wand up, the longer she stayed, trying not to swallow water, arms and legs desperately reaching around trying to find something to hold onto.
A burning few seconds passed, and the other students began to panic. Even Aster tried to shake her sister's arm to let the bully go, no longer crying but immediately focused on breaking Io's concentration. The student started to flail inside the bubble, and it was a sight that disturbed Draco. He'd never seen someone react like that and he could only assume that she was about to drown.
"Enough!" An older gentleman's voice roared, and Io finally dropped her wand. The bully slammed to the floor, water flooding the corridor, slipping under classroom doors. The man ran right through Draco, picking up Io in his arms and grabbing Aster's hand. He stormed off, leaving two professors with everyone else.
Cold air entered Draco's lungs as he was brought back to the Slytherin common room.
The 16-year-old Io was still sitting in front of him, but she was now holding his hand in her lap. He couldn't see her eyes that well in the dim light, but the heavy sigh let him know that she, just as her younger self, was also crying.
"What was that?" Draco didn't remove his hands, noticing the firm grip she had on him. "Did you - "
"I almost killed that girl." Her voice shook ever so slightly. She used her hold on Draco to steady herself, reminding her that she was here. "Our headmaster was furious with me. If Uncle Altair hadn't pleaded that it was an 'adolescent temper tantrum', her parents threatened to send me to a hospital to determine if I was a danger to others.
"I never knew how to deal with the fact that I did that. I don't even really remember Aster speaking to me, but afterwards she told me that no matter what she said, she couldn't break my concentration. It was like I left my body. I was just so… angry."
Draco placed his other hand on top of hers so that the warmth encased her, still trembling. She had just shared a very intimate memory with him. This was nothing like Goyle running to him to regale how he'd pushed Longbottom into the wall.
"I don't know why I chose that particular memory to show you." Io continued. "It's not pleasant, it's traumatizing. She got sent to the infirmary. She'd swallowed so much water, and she was never able to get near the lake without having a panic attack. Everyone was afraid of me after that, so I never tried to make friends."
Draco listened in silence, understanding that she wasn't looking for a response. He'd never 'exchanged' secrets with his friends before - at least not like this. It made him question what exactly he spoke about.
"Last year, I joined this group of people - they called us the Inquisitorial Squad." He finally spoke with an exasperated laugh. "At the time, I think I liked the feeling of people hating me because it was the same as them fearing me. But it isn't the same. They just hated me. I thought I was doing right by my father, but all I did was encourage Potter and his rangy lot to learn how to cast. Maybe if I hadn't, my father wouldn't have -"
Draco stopped himself. This was getting to be very intimate. He was still holding Io's hands in his own, and he knew she was listening intently.
Truly, he felt some responsibility. If the Inquisitorial Squad hadn't existed or if he'd been better at their job, maybe the fight at the Ministry would have ended differently. He didn't know how he wanted it to end, but any way where it didn't end up with his father getting sent to Azkaban would have been better.
"Draco, stop." Io's fingers twitched, interrupting his silence. "You don't have to say anything else. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shown you that. I wasn't trying to get you to divulge anything - I just wanted you to know that you can trust me. If that's what you want."
"I don't want to." He slowly pulled his hands back. "But I guess I just do."
Despite the grim air surrounding this conversation, Io actually found herself relieved. Letting him in paid off, and now he looked at ease. How many of Draco's other friends actually shared their secrets with him? How many have actually seen his face when he was in distress? Has Pansy ever held his hand and actually listened?
But here was the second part to this - Io carelessly opened her mind to Draco, a figurative window. She didn't know what the next step was in this chess game she dared to initiate. It was up to Draco now to make his move, take it as far as he dare go.
"Come find me when you're ready to talk, Draco." Io stood up, finally realizing she really was exhausted, especially after that trip through her memories. "You might scare the others, but your demons can't touch me."
Draco stayed on the couch as Io left, walking silently up the stairs to the girls dormitory.
He rubbed his fingers together, swearing he could still feel her hand, smooth as silk. He released an audible heavy breath, laying out his legs on the now empty couch. He could fall asleep here if he tried. The last time Draco tried to open up to anyone was back in third year when Pansy decided they were meant to be together. He remembers her hands wandering all over his chest, leaning on him, touching his hair - but all he could muster up was a look of discomfort before walking away.
What Pansy had attempted to do over the course of several years, Io had accomplished in a day. He couldn't ignore his attraction to her. Maybe it was because this wasn't just physical allure. He danced with several Beauxbaton girls in fourth year at the Yule Ball for Merlin's sake. If there was any time to take advantage of love struck girls, it would have been then. But this was different. They were all beautiful - but it was Io's mind, her spirit, her pain that drew him to her.
By showing him that awful memory, she let him sip her rage like the sweetest mead he'd ever tasted, and he was getting drunk on the feeling. She was distracting him. Any other time, any other year, any other universe, he would've toyed with the idea of letting her break him down until he was no longer cold and encased in his pride. He'd protect her, shout to the heavens that she belonged to him. Curse any man who dared to touch her.
But he couldn't - he was given a task, and he couldn't let this cloud his focus. He couldn't drag her down with him. The Dark Lord trusted him to complete this task, and he was meant to do it alone.
In the darkness, feeling quite alone for the first time in a very long time, Draco thought the silence was suffocating. Reaching over to unbutton his left sleeve, the Dark Mark was still stinging, painfully reminding him that his life wasn't one to be shared.
Io quietly changed into her pajamas, slipping into her bed without waking the others. Aster was fast asleep, her braids strewn across her pillow.
She laid on her back, staring at the canopy. Bringing her hand to her cheek, Io swore the warmth from Draco didn't fade. She could still feel him on her skin. Thinking that for once she might have a good night's sleep, she closed her eyes, but a dreadful thought slowly crept up the bed and laid beside her, sharing her pillow.
Draco Malfoy could hide his demons as hard as he tried, but for all she knew, the demons could walk through that door at any given moment.