AN: I made some progress this week and I am hoping that before December I have everything written. If that happens I may post 2x a week. Send positive thoughts the plot bunnies cooperate.

Finally, while reason will be your guiding star, do not wholly disregard the quiet voice of your heart. It may lead you in unexpected directions, but such inclinations can uncover truths not yet seen.

With all my love,
Mother

XXX

Draco rereads his mother's words multiple times before taking his wand and casting Incendio on the parchment and then an Evanesco on the ashy remains.

Chapter 8: Fall Term - I'm Not Like Everybody Else

With Dumbledore and Professor Snape's charmed Walkman, River was able to come out of hibernation, as Ginny had jokingly put it. Instead of being inundated with noise or music, River could walk the halls of Hogwarts between classes with much more ease.

River had been cautious to write to Sirius and Lupin, worried of what they might say about her being sorted into Slytherin. But when she finally wrote to them after her first week and explained how Dumbledore and Snape had helped, she was pleasantly surprised to have a package from them the next morning. Their note was only reaffirming their support for her, whatever house she was in, which assuaged her worries. They also sent additional tapes for her Walkman. Sirius had made a mixed tape with some of his favorite songs, while Lupin had sent a cassette of Classical Ballet Music and pointe shoes River could use for dancing.

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, River felt she had a piece of home, a sanctuary in the chaos of thoughts. The music not only kept her grounded but also reminded her that she wasn't alone, no matter what house she was in. She could walk through the halls by drowning herself in The Kinks, Bowie, and Queen. She could skip merrily along her way and get lost for hours in her books and music, while The Clash, The Who, and Pink Floyd screamed in her ears. It made her magic hum and feel electric, like static shocks along her skin.

I won't take all that they hand me down
And make out a smile, though I wear a frownAnd I'm not take it all lying down

The first time Theo had startled her when she had been studying in the Library she swore he had been shocked when he touched her. He grew intensely curious and had asked what she was listening to. She had let him borrow her Walkman for a few songs while they worked on an Ancient Runes assignment. Soon Blaise and Pansy were also keen to hear what Theo kept raving on about. Shortly after they had asked her if Sirius would send them more tapes they could all listen to when they were alone. When she owl's him about it, he was thrilled, clearly taking pride in corrupting the impressionable pure-blood minds with his muggle punk music. Pansy had taken a particular liking to David Bowie, claiming he must be part Veela.

Draco Malfoy did not share his friend's interest, no matter how hard Theo tried to force it upon him. Actually, Malfoy spent very little time around the trio of Slytherins if she was with them, often excusing himself as quickly as she appeared. Malfoy and River shared four classes together, and while she often sensed his eyes were on her, the only thing she got from him was the feeling of frost and snow. River imagined it was quite strange for him and other pureblood students to see her, a Black, using muggle technology and they refused to put much more thought into it. Truthfully, she felt they should all pull the stick out of their asses and move into the 20th century.

And I don't want to ball about like everybody else
And I don't want to live my life like everybody else

While the Walkman had helped quiet the outside world in River's brain, she still struggled in class without it. She nearly let a cauldron boil over in Potions because a few of Adrian Pucey's lackeys, including Greg Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, and Millicent Blustrode, had been particularly harsh with their whispers and muttered insults. After Slughorn spoke to her after class, he went to Dumbledore with his concern, and the professors agreed to let River use the device in class as long as the professor was not actively lecturing.

Much to River's relief, by late September she found that despite being sorted into Slytherin, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny and by extension Luna and Neville Longbottom, still made efforts to be her friend. They often met in quieter corners of the castle between classes, exchanging quick updates on their day or studying together in the library. Ginny always greeted River with a warm smile, and Hermione didn't seem to care about house divisions when they worked together in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.

And I won't say that I feel fine like everybody else'
Cause I'm not like everybody elseI'm not like everybody else

Harry, though quieter, made an effort to include her in conversations whenever he saw her. But it never lasted long. Ron would inevitably find them, his presence casting a shadow over the group. He would loudly question why River was there, dropping snide comments and casting distrustful glances in her direction. "I still can't believe you're hanging around with a Slytherin," he'd mutter, his mind dripping with suspicion. It stung more than River wanted to admit, and though the others tried to wave it off, Ron's barbs always pushed River to leave in frustration before the tension escalated further. She would slip away, her heart heavy, with Harry or Hermione calling after her, but she'd quicken her pace, unwilling to let Ron see the hurt on her face.

River was more than a little pleased though, when Professor Slughorn had personally distributed invitations to his "Slug Club" to herself, Blaise, Harry, and Hermione after class one day and Ron turned a lovely shade of crimson with jealousy. Can't trust a bloody snake. What does she have that I don't? It's the Golden Trio for fucks sake.

River's POV

The night of Professor Slughorn's "Slug Club" Dinner Slughorn's office had been transformed into an inviting and intimate space. A long table sat in the middle of the room adorned with glittering silverware and taper candles that gave off a soft glow. The other side of the room had sumptuous looking couches for students to congregate around until a delicious dinner was served. By all accounts, it should be a lovely evening.

But from the moment I arrive the room has an undercurrent of tension, and I am not sure if it's the fact that everyone here is from Slytherin or Gryffindor… or if my presence causes it to escalate. On one side, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry are chatting quietly, and on the other Adrian Pucey and a few other 7th year Slytherins are throwing murderous glances. Traitor to her house… Gryffindor cunts…can't be trusted… mudbloods and blood traitors…

Blaise walks in after I do, and like me, makes no move towards either of the groups. "Slughorn better have some seriously good alcohol to expect us to put up with this mess." He nudges me slightly, further prodding me into the room.

I bite my lip. "I'm not sure how you can be so calm in all of this." My magic prickles on my skin, like I am being flayed.

Blaise moves closer to me and leans down to whisper in my ear. "Practice darling… The real skill is to be seen enough to matter but never enough to be a target." It's how you survive six step-fathers with preconceived notions of what it means to be a man.

"It's about playing the long game." Blaise says as he moves to get a drink.

As he departs, I walk over towards Harry, Ginny, and Hermione. Their voices are still muffled and quiet, but when they see me they smile warmly.

"Ohh… a snake with the lions, someone should get the smelling salts for Pucey before he faints." Ginny giggles.

I roll my eyes at Ginny, but I do feel it… feel Pucey's putrid mind and eyes trained on me. "What were you all whispering about before?"

"Harry's telling us how his private lessons with Dumbledore are going." Hermione offers faintly, lest she be overheard.

"Anything interesting yet?" I ask.

Harry shakes his head. "I was just telling Mione and Gin that a lot of it doesn't make sense. Actually, River, did you read anything about Horcruxes at Grimmauld?"

I trace through my memories of all the pages I read…Maledictus Runes, Morsmordem Spira, Aethonian Oculis, Venenum Animi… but nothing on Horcruxes. "No, not that I remember, but maybe we can check over the Winter Holiday?"

As Harry opens his mouth to agree to the plan, Slughorn rings the bell to call us to the table for dinner. "We'll talk more about it later." Harry says as he and the girls move to find their seats.

Blaise walks over and hands me a flute of something sparkling. "I guess we will have to make due with this swill." He says as he holds his arm out to me. I take it and we move to find our seats.

While dinner is indeed delicious, it isn't enough to stop the influx of venom the 7th year Slytherins are all thinking. Several times I feel my magic slip… my wrist shaking as I pass something to Ginny next to me… my knife slipping trying to cut my food. Blaise seems to notice from the other side and asks discreetly if I am ok. I try my best to mask my struggle. The sparkling wine doesn't help the headache forming as I try and drown the thoughts out as best I can.

Slughorn, sitting at the head of the table, chattering happily to one of the 7th years next to him is utterly oblivious to the growing unease between the rest of us further down the table.

"You certainly keep interesting company, Black," Pucey says, his voice casual but laced with poison. He leans forward, his eyes gleaming under the low candlelight. "Harry Potter, Hermione Granger... and let's not forget the lesser-known Slytherins." Blood traitors… mudbloods… and disgraces.

They sent me away to find them a fortune
A chest filled with diamonds and gold

I feel the thrum of my magic fight to spark from my fingertips, it causes my flute to tremble as I reach towards it and I have to quickly right it before it falls. I can feel Ginny shift beside me, but she remains silent. Blaise, on my other side, raises an eyebrow, looking amused but uninterested.

"What exactly are you implying, Pucey?" I say low but steady. I know exactly where this was going, and so did everyone around us, but I wasn't about to let him get away with veiled insults.

"Oh, no need to get defensive," he said, lips curling into a smirk. "But it's odd, isn't it? A Black, socializing with Gryffindors like Potter and mudbloods like Granger. And even among our house..." He cast a look toward Blaise, whose expression darkened ever so slightly, "...you've chosen some rather... unconventional friends."

The house was awake, with shadows and monsters
The hallways, they echoed and groaned

Again, I feel my magic whipping at me, just under the surface of my skin, lashing at me to let it loose. The room grows colder and I swear I hear a crack of my plate in front of me. Hermione, seated a few chairs down, looks uncomfortable, especially when Pucey says the slur aloud, but remains quiet. Harry says nothing, his eyes narrowed, and Ginny tenses beside me, her fingers twitching toward her wand.

The longer I sit here, the more I begin to feel my magic flicker uncontrollably. I take a breath, forcing it down as much as I can. The last thing I need is to cause a scene. But Pucey's smug expression fuels the fire in my chest. Sad little king, on a sad little hill, I remind myself.

"Unconventional," I repeat, forcing my tone to be cool, but my pulse racing with growing agitation. I force a smile like the Cheshire Cat on my face, toothy, with a hint of menace. "It's funny, I always thought associating with people based on character, not bloodlines or petty house rivalries, was... normal."

I sat alone, in bed 'til the morning
I'm crying, "They're coming for me"

Pucey chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. "Normal?" he echoes mockingly. "Sure. If by normal you mean Gryffindor sympathizers and Slytherins who—" he hesitated for a brief second, his eyes flicking towards Blaise, "...don't fit the proper mold of our house."

The unspoken accusations hang heavy in the air, and everyone knows what he meant. Blaise and Theo's sexuality, Pansy's ambiguous relationship with them both…. they don't hide it, nor should they have to. I can barely contain a pulse of magic as it radiates through me, making the flames on the nearby candelabras flicker as if responding to my magic. I force myself to lace my fingers and hold them in my lap, hoping I can contain it.

And I tried to hold these secrets inside me
My mind's like a deadly disease

"I'd say you're the one who doesn't fit, Pucey," I voice sharply. "Because unlike you, they don't define themselves by who they hate."

Pucey's smirk falters, and for a moment, the room seems to hold its breath. Even Slughorn, still blissfully unaware of the true nature of the conversation, stopped mid-sentence and looked curiously between us.

Pucey chuckles again. "Touchy, aren't we?" His tone had lost some of its smugness. "I'm only saying what everyone else is thinking. People are starting to wonder where your loyalties really lie…"

I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home

The wine in the glasses nearest to me swirled, rippling in sync with my breathing. I can feel the air around me shift, growing thick with energy, and it was getting harder to rein it in.

Blaise nudges my leg under the table, a silent signal to keep calm, but my heart pounds so loudly it's a drum in my head. Pucey's words sting more than I want to admit, not because they were true, but because they hit the one insecurity I can't seem to master: the fear of never truly belonging anywhere.

"My loyalties…are to those who…deserve them," My voice is strained. "And I don't owe you…or anyone…an explanation for the people I care about."

I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones

The lights above us all flicker again. I can feel Slughorn's brain begin to catch up to what is happening… and all I can think is I need to get out of here…before something I can't control.

I quickly push back my chair and rise to leave. "If you'll excuse me," I say curtly, my hands shaking.

Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk swiftly toward the door. Behind me, I hear Pucey chuckle under his breath, masking more of his vile thoughts. I force myself not to react. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me"
I can't help this awful energy

As I leave the room, Slughorn's puzzled voice carries after me. ""Well, that was... er, sudden. I do hope she's alright. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the properties of powdered moonstone!"

I don't stop moving. I feel like if I stop it will all implode. The cold stone walls of the castle pressed against my mind, like they are closing in. I break into a run as I will my magic to hold… just a little longer. But the feeling of not belonging, of being judged for the people I chose to care for, lingers like a heavy weight on my chest. Can't…breathe… I descend deeper into the dungeons, my mind a storm of emotions threatening to tear me apart.

My fingers twitch with barely containing energy, and my breathing quickens as I feel my heart thundering in my chest. I just needed to get away, to release everything building inside me before it consumes me. I find the first empty classroom near the far end of the dungeons. Without thinking, I shove the door open, my magic pushing it harder than intended, and it slams against the stone wall with a resounding crack. The cold, musty air inside the room did little to calm me, but it would do. I am alone. I can force my mind and body to breathe here…no eyes, no whispers, no judgment. I inhale deeply, grounding myself. Then, without hesitation, let my body move, channeling my magic into every step of this dance.

It isn't flawless, but my body instinctively falls into the graceful, once precise movements I mastered long ago. I step into a plié, sinking low to the ground with as much control as I can muster before rising smoothly into a relevé, my body extending upward as if pulled by invisible strings. My arms sweep outward in a graceful port de bras, as I glide across the room in a series of quick, light piqués.

I paced around for hours on empty
I jumped at the slightest of sounds

But something is different. My magic, raw and untamed, flared with every step. Desks rattle and careen across the room, dragged by unseen hands as my magic pulsed out, wild and uncontrollable.

I leap into a grand jeté, soaring through the air with an effortless grace, but the moment my foot strikes the floor, a crack splinters beneath my foot, the stone giving under the force of her magic. I pivot into a series of tight chaînés, spinning across the room in a blur of motion, the momentum carrying me as the scattered papers lift into the air, caught in the rising current of magic.

And I couldn't stand the person inside me
I turned all the mirrors around

My feet touch down into a fondu, the softness of my movement contradicting the violent energy swirling around. I push into an arabesque, my leg extending perfectly behind as I balance on one foot, magic pulling desks and chairs into the walls as if struck by a canon. I hold the pose, every muscle in my body taut with tension, before shifting into a pirouette, spinning effortlessly on pointe as the magic in the room continues to surge.

The stone floor cracks again beneath each step, but I kept moving, launching into a soutenu, turning with perfect grace as the flickering candles in the room flare to life, reacting to the intensity of my magic. By now, my movements are under control, my ballet perfect—yet the chaos I can't tame rages around me, like I am a cyclone.

I'm well acquainted with villains that live in my head
They beg me to write them so they'll never die when I'm dead

As I slide into a glissade, my arms sweeping through the air, the rattling desks finally halt. My magic, pulsing outwards, seems to quiet for a moment, though my chest heaves with short shallow breaths.

But then… something changed. A frost seeped into the room, not from the cold dungeon air, but from somewhere else. It slithered around my skin like a snake, slowing my movements, making me pause mid-turn.

And I've grown familiar with villains that live in my head
They beg me to write them so I'll never die when I'm dead

My breath hitches… as the slithering frost creeps up and tangles itself around my neck.

Malfoy.

My magic wavers, everything halting their violent movements. I turn, chest still heaving with exertion, to see him standing in the shadows near the door, his pale gray eyes glinting under the low light. His expression is unreadable, but the icy frost of his mind continues to slither around me, brushing against my thoughts in a way that makes me feel both exposed and vulnerable.

I force myself to swallow, to calm my heart racing… but I am not entirely sure for what reason.

I'm bigger than my body
I'm colder than this home

He steps forward, the shadows parting around him as he stalks towards me. He purposely steps into my space, as if daring me to move away. I let my eyes lift slowly to his face, refusing to react. His gaze remains fixed on me, intense and unwavering.

"You're out after curfew," he says softly, his voice low but firm. There was no smugness in his tone, no judgment—just a simple statement of fact, but it made my mind race with questions. What? How long has it been since I left Slughorn's dinner? How much time had I lost now? Why is this starting to happen again? He could give me detention, report me to Snape…

Malfoy's gaze rakes down my body and then to the state of the room, the cracked floor beneath my feet, before finally settling back on my face. His expression is unreadable, but there was something simmering beneath the surface—something I can't quite name.

I'm meaner than my demons
I'm bigger than these bones

"Slughorn's dinner not go well?" he asked, his voice almost casual, but there was an edge to it, something more than idle curiosity.

I try to calm my magic, but it buzzes too erratically. "I didn't realize you cared," I reply, more coldly than intended. I just didn't have the energy to…keep pretending, not after everything with Pucey.

Malfoy raises an eyebrow, his lips curving slightly. "You'd be surprised, Black."

He steps closer, his presence unsettling in a way I am not sure I lie, but… I didn't try to push it away either. He is so close now, the distance between us almost nonexistent, but he seems unbothered by the raw energy still crackling in the air.

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me"
I can't help this awful energy

"Does it always have to be like this?" His voice was quieter now, his gaze locking onto mine, searching for something I am not sure I am willing to show him. While he has not been openly antagonistic like Pucey, this was Malfoy, the self-proclaimed Prince of Slytherin, and he had been nothing but cold to me thus far. "You run off hiding, trying to break everything around you just because you're feeling—what is it, again? Frustrated? Angry? Out of place?"

His words hit too close to the truth. "You wouldn't understand."

Malfoy's eyes darken slightly, a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I understand more than you think."

Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?

For a moment, silence hangs between us, thick and charged. He lifts his hand, and my breath catches as his fingers hover near my cheek, so close I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. I let my eyes close, waiting for the inevitable. But his touch doesn't come, though—he stops just short. When my eyes open and meet his, I see something unreadable in his gaze, something almost….

"You shouldn't be out here like this," Malfoy says, his voice softer now, almost… concerned. "Not with your magic like this."

I stiffen and narrow my eyes at him. "What are you going to do? Report me to Snape? Detention?" I spit, the bitterness in my tone.

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me"
I can't help this awful energy

Malfoy's hand drops slowly back to his side, his expression hardening. "No," he says simply, stepping back. "But I'm not the only prefect."

My pulse spikes. The thought of running into another prefect—someone less willing to turn a blind eye—sends a wave of panic through me. Malfoy took another step back, the distance between us growing, though his gaze remained fixed on me.

"Make sure another prefect—or worse, Flitch and Mrs. Norris—don't catch you out," he adds, his tone almost businesslike again, as if trying to mask whatever just passed between us.

Without another word, he turned and left, the heavy wooden door clicking softly behind him.

I'm frozen, my breath shallow as I try to make sense of what had just happened. How long had he been watching? Had he felt the music too? Had all the intensity been mine... or his as well?

Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?

Draco Malfoy is an enigma… one who is never not in control.

By mid-October, Slughorn's Dinner was a memory. While River's magic had been more under control since her encounter with Malfoy, it still felt harder to tame. During the day, she spent her time grounding herself in music, in books, in learning all she could in her classes, and studying in the library with her merry band of 'undesirables,' as she started to think of them all. Pansy, Theo, and Blaise made for great company, often allowing the sharper points of her mind to come out and play. While Ginny, Luna, Hermione, and Harry allowed the girl she was before the Academy to have moments in the sun. It felt as if there was an unspoken truce between the two groups. Neither one pressured her to give up the other, yet they made no move to accept the other part of her life. A zero sum game, where she existed in between.

At night, though… she felt she was living in the shadows. Nyx, true to her namesake, was her constant companion, acting as her guide through the dimly lit corridors and down secret halls. They would dart from room to room, sometimes to new unused classrooms to dance, other times to new concealed nooks. It seems Nyx understood that River was trying to find solace while evading the little deaths that sleep brought. She hadn't lost as much time as when she was at the Academy… but still found herself missing minutes and sometimes an hour when dancing.

It was only when Pansy bluntly told her to sit down one morning so she could show her how to cover those hideous bags under her eyes did she notice the physical effects that seemed to creep up around the edges. A few days later, Pansy corners her in their dorm room, demanding that River accompany her to Hogsmeade. "You are going to the All Hallows Eve Ball and I am going to make sure you don't show up in anything less than spectacular so as to not cause everyone to doubt my sartorial expertise." River tried to protest, but Blaise and Theo were with Pansy and leaving no room for argument.

River's POV

While I would have appreciated a subtler touch from Pansy, I know that isn't her style. I do appreciate though that she brought me with her to Hogsmeade to look for a dress for the All Hallows Eve Ball next week. It felt normal… and it clawed at my desire to feel like I belong here.

"Try this one on." Pansy says as she throws another dress over the partition to the dressing room. We were on the fifth one already, and each time she was convinced it wasn't right.

"Pansy, it might help if you tell me what you are looking for." I offer up over the layers of tulle trying to drown me as I pull them over my head.

"I will know it when I see it!" Is all the reply I get as I hear her moving away to look at the racks of gowns further. The distant sound of the shop door bell ringing faintly.

I get the dress as fastened as I can in the back and step outside of the dressing room. Nervous energy prickles my skin as I see Pansy in a standoff with Ginny and Luna. Neither are saying anything, but their eyes are glaring daggers, and their minds are just as sharp.

Bloody Slytherin… always have to slither around anything they want…Fucking Gryffindor… can't let anyone have something they think is theirs…

"Oh, that one is nice." Luna says, ignoring the tension from the two other girls.

"Pansy…Ginny…" I say softly, trying not to alarm the animals they are acting like. When neither one looks over to me, I try a little louder. "Pans! Gin!" I yell, and both sets of eyes snap to me. "Put your claws and fangs away. You both know I am friends with both of you, don't act like you have to piss on your territory, I am a person, not a thing." I say with the anger of feeling less than a person who can decide who I care about edging into my words.

While they don't look outwardly chastened, their minds do register my words.

"She's always like this, isn't she?" Ginny offers up as she looks back to Pansy.

Pansy rolls her eyes. "I'm starting to see that." Pansy turns her attention back to me and the dress I am wearing. "No… take it off, I will find another."

I am exasperated. "Ginny, Luna, can you try and help her so I am not strangled by yards of tulle?" I retreat back to the dressing room, but hear a few more comments between the two while they search the racks.

"You really should get rid of those hand-me-down robes, Weasley."

"I will when you stop wearing that permanent sneer."

I sigh. It's a start. I don't expect they will become the best of friends overnight, but they are more similar than first glance would lead them to believe. They are both fiercely loyal, in their own ways. They are both Sacred 28, even though they both couldn't care less about fitting into a mold others would prescribe to them. They are both sarcastic, have a wicked sense of humor, and could actually have a lot of fun together if they let themselves. All of this house rivalry and division only perpetuates the hatred we see… and it fuels my resentment that Hogwarts maintains "tradition" instead of fostering unity in younger generations.

I throw over the last dress as Luna knocks softly before opening the door and handing me one. "This one feels like light and shadow—both beautiful in their own way. Maybe it'll help you decide which you are."

I gaze at the dress Luna handed me. The tulle felt like liquid silk, nothing like the stiff dresses I'd been drowning in earlier. The gradient from deep, inky black at the top to a soft, almost ghostly white at the hem was mesmerizing. The addition of the embroidered feather motifs on top of the dress stole my breath. It was like dancing Odette and Odile all at once. An echo of the duality of light and darkness. I could already imagine myself dancing in it, the fabric swirling around me like shadows bleeding into moonlight.

I quickly put on the dress and walk out of the dressing room to the three waiting witches. Ginny's mouth drops open, Pansy looks to Luna in disbelief that she would be the one to find something like… this. And Luna, sweet Luna, looks at me as if I am something pulled straight from a dream—her dream.

"Oh it's so lovely. You will look like a swan dancing in this." Luna says as she sways as if seeing it in her head already.

"That…I…" Pansy can't even get words out, and Ginny looks like she might die of shock that Pansy Parkinson doesn't have something to say.

I cannot help the hearty laugh that escapes me.

All Hallows Eve at Hogwarts

The castle buzzed with excitement on All Hallows Eve. Much to everyone's surprise, classes were canceled and students were encouraged to participate in activities that the professors organized. 'To pay homage to ancient traditions and start a new one,' Dumbledore had explained at dinner the evening before. River did not miss the wink Professor McGonagall had sent her, and smiled softly while thinking pedagogy could evolve.

Hagrid led a procession of Thestrals around the grounds, along with most of the ghosts from the castle, as a celebration of Wandering Spirits and Magical Creatures. Professor Sprout held her own Celebration of the Harvest, and offered a horn of bounty to the edge of the Forbidden Forest as a sign of goodwill to the earth and ancient magic of the woods. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall provided students with supplies for offerings at the various altars around the grounds that served as spaces to honor the ancestors. Professor Trelawney was supposed to set up some type of Divination event, but spent most of the day hiding and spouting off nonsense. The day culminated with an All Hallows Ball in the Great Hall.

Sirius and Lupin had owled a package to Hogwarts that morning. They had given River a pair of earrings that had been charmed to act as her Walkman. They were a simple set of platinum hoops, and their letter explained that given the size and placement on instead of over her ears they wouldn't be as effective, but it should provide some dampening for the evening. They wanted to help her feel as normal as possible. She was touched at the beautiful gift and their support.

Pansy had all but demanded that River would attend with her, Blaise, and Theo. They chose to be on the fashionably late side, "to make an entrance as the most fabulous Slytherins in the house," Theo had explained to River's amusement. By the time Pansy would allow herself to stop fussing over River's hair alone they were already late. Blaise and Theo both whistled and appreciated the girls as they descended the stairs from their room, with Theo pulling River in close to whisper, "Try not to break his heart tonight." But the way he says it makes River pull back and question who he meant. He merely winks and leads her to catch up to Blaise and Pansy. The foursome make their way to the Great Hall, and as the doors open to reveal the splendor that had taken over, River's breath catches as the splendor of the evening swims in her eyes.

River's POV

I practically feel myself twirling to see all of the magic in the Great Hall to prepare it for the All Hallows Eve Ball. The night sky above is charmed to mimic the veil between the living and the dead, with lights fluttering by to symbolize spirits and loved ones who have crossed over. The Ghosts of the castle have their own ballroom reflected beyond that, dancing, and enjoying their own evening, leaving the students to peacefully enjoy a night of shared celebrations. The tapestries of the Hall have been charmed to be sumptuous silks that twinkle in the candlelight. The floor sparkles and a gentle mist perfume the room of the sweetest ambrosia. It's mesmerizing.

"I swear Black, I can almost forget you weren't born into this world until you look around like that." Blaise jokes as he watches me look around the Great Hall in wonder.

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream," she murmured, then turned to Blaise. "And yet, this magic… it's better than anything I could ever dream."

A low laugh registers from behind us. "That's funny Black, I thought you didn't sleep enough to dream?" Malfoy's icy words attempt to pierce me. I merely shake my head at him, refusing to let the magic of this evening be soured.

I glance over my shoulder, catching his gaze, my lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. "Who says I need sleep for that?" My voice drops, soft and shadowed. "Some dreams come in the dark, even when you're awake." I let the words hang between.

His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of something icy within them…something intrigued. "Maybe you should try it sometime," I continue, my voice still low, "You'd be surprised at what you see when you stop pretending everything is in your control."

He hesitates, and in that pause, Theo leans down to whisper in my ear. "Always full of surprises, aren't you, Black?" I giggle at Theo, and he promptly whisks me away further into the crowded Hall. I can still feel Malfoy's eyes burning into my back as we leave though.

The four of us find an unoccupied table towards one side of the Hall and quickly claim it. Blaise excuses himself to get drinks for us all, while Theo pouts to Pansy for a dance. She makes him swear to not step on her dress, and lets herself be pulled into the crowd of bodies, a brief smile playing on her lips, and her mind full of tenderness for Theo. I let myself watch the dancers, body moving ever so slightly with the notes from the spectral orchestra, feeling a sense of peace I often crave.

"River!" Hermione shouts from somewhere behind me.

I turn to see her, Harry, Luna, Ginny, and Ron walking towards me. All of them have smiles on their face, drinks in their hands, and look stunning in their robes. The only one who doesn't look happy to see me is unsurprisingly Ron, who may have had more than the rest of the group as his thoughts project loudly and are jumbled.

"River, your dress! Luna and Gin told us it was stunning, but this…" Hermione says as he leans down to give me a hug.

"All credit to Luna, she found it." I say as I feel a flush heat my cheeks.

Luna smiles dreamily at me and gives a soft courtesy as acknowledgment of thanks.

Don't know why we had to see the bloody snake… it's just a fucking dress.

"So, how's everyone's evening so far?" I ask the group.

"Well, I've managed to not step on Hermione, Ginny, or Luna's feet while dancing, so it's better than the Yule Ball in 4th year." Harry says with a chuckle.

"My feet didn't recover for a week after that." Ginny laughs as she remembers that night.

"Do you mind if we sit?" Hermione asks as she motions to the seats around me.

I smile brightly. "No of course, Blaise went to get drinks, and Theo and Pansy are dancing, but you can all join us." Hermione, Harry, Luna, and Ginny all sit, while Ron remains standing, taking another long sip of his drink.

Fucking snake… telling us what we can or can't do. Like them lot would ever tolerate breathing the same air as us.

Ron is so blind to the idea of anything but black or white, good or bad, it's like a disease of his mind. In two years after we all leave Hogwarts it won't matter who was in what house. This type of thought breeds hate… Hate like what Sirius, Lupin, Harry's parents, and the Order fought against in the First Wizarding War… hate they continue to fight against.

I take a breath to calm myself and prepare to deal with Ron, when Blaise appears with drinks. He quickly hands me one before addressing the Gryffindor's. "Evening you lot."

Ron's mouth and temper are on a hair-pin trigger. "What's that supposed to mean, Zabini?"

Harry stands and moves to where Ron remains standing. He puts an arm on Ron. "Mate, relax. Blaise was just…"

This was apparently not the "Oh, so it is Blaise, now?" Ron says rounding on Harry, his drink splashing in the glass with the movement.

"Ron… stop." Hermione says as she moves to stand and try to help Harry.

"Why? He's just one of them… like her." Ron says as he throws murderous glances at me.

Ever since she came through the Veil… bitch…she's ruining everything…. Turning my mates against me.

"The only person who makes any kind of scene here is you, Ron." Ginny chastises him, her own dark mood bubbling up from yet again her brother making a scene that involves me. "If you can't keep your damn mouth under better control maybe you should just go back to the dorm."

"OH! So now you are turning my sister against me TOO!" Ron says as the anger causes his face to grow red.

I sigh and let my head drop down into my hands and massage my temples. Ron is continuing to scream and yell, but now with Ginny. I haven't even had a dance yet and already a spectacle is forming around us.

"We could hear Weasley yelling from the dance floor, couldn't miss the show." Pansy says as she and Theo walk up arm in arm. "Think his face can match his hair?" Pansy says as she leans into Blaise so she is between him and Theo.

I chuckle, but stand from my seat. "Theo, would you please take me for a spin?" I want to escape the scene Harry, Hermione, and Ginny have well at hand.

"Of course, darling." Theo said with a grin, offering his hand. He pulls me out into the sea of other bodies moving around us.

Theo easily falls into the steps of the waltz, whisking me into the music with ease. We spend the next two songs moving along the dance floor, twirling, spinning, and fluttering…it feels like I am a petal swaying in the gentle breeze. I anchor myself to that feeling and let the outside world fade away. By our third dance, I feel calm enough to ask Theo about his earlier statement.

"Theo… who did you mean, when you said not to break his heart?"

"Your knight in shining armor of course." He says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes as he twirls me around again. "Do I need one? Why can't a girl save herself?"

"Does having a knight preclude you from saving yourself?" Theo asks thoughtfully, his mischief evident.

"No," I concede. "But it's the fanciful notion that someone other than yourself is going to come along and save you. What if you want someone to fight your battles at your side instead of for you?"

"Is that what you want, River?" Theo again questions, pulling me to a stop.

It's curious, as if he is intentionally trying to argue about the romanticism of fairy tales… like he's diverting my attention from the real question I asked.

I open my mouth to redirect him back to the initial question, when someone clears their throat to our side. I turn and see Malfoy standing there.

"May I cut in?" Malfoy's eyes are fixed on me, his usual smirk playing at the corner of his lips, though something unreadable lingered behind his gaze.

"Hope you can keep up with her, old friend." Theo says as he takes a few steps back and then turns to return to where Pansy, Blaise, Ginny, and Luna are all still gathered.

I turn and look at his outstretched hand. It feels almost foreign, like an out of body experience to be standing here, with Malfoy offering his hand for a dance. I look at him warily, but accept. Like Theo, his upbringing clearly meant dance lessons for society events he would be expected to attend. His steps are fluid, and if it was someone else I would lose myself in the dance easily. But it is Malfoy, and I cannot help but focus on the slight crackle of my magic and the frosty feeling where our hands meet and where his eyes study my face.

The tension in his eyes leaves me feeling unsettled. "You know, I never pictured you as the type to ask for a dance, Malfoy." Trying my best to break the silence.

There's a slight edge of amusement in Malfoy's voice. "That's because you don't know me very well, Black."

I laugh, it's rich that he thinks he allows people to get to know him. "Maybe, or maybe you've always kept people at arm's length."

Malfoy's lips twitch, as though he's suppressing a smile, but his voice remains guarded. "It's safer that way. Some of us don't have the luxury of... trust."

I scoff, "Didn't you tell me that trust is earned? Maybe you've been surrounded by people who don't try."

Malfoy's gaze flickers, his icy demeanor cracking slightly. "Or maybe people see what they want to see." He pauses, his grip tightening briefly. "What do you see, Black?"

I hesitate for a moment, feeling the weight of his question before I respond. "I see someone who hides behind his walls because he's afraid of what might happen if they come down."

Malfoy's eyes darken, not with anger, but with something closer to vulnerability. His usual cool gaze wavered, just for a second, and something else flickered in his eyes—hesitation, doubt, maybe even fear. His hold on me loosens slightly, like the sun thaws the snow and ice of winter. 'And what if you're right?' His voice was quieter now, almost too soft, like he wasn't sure he wanted me to hear the question.

There's a charged silence between us while the rhythm of the dance continues to carry us across the floor. Malfoy's words are an omission of… something, I am just not sure of what. other than Malfoy's gaze softens just enough to reveal a flicker of something genuine—before it's abruptly shattered by Pucey and Millicent.

"Well, well, Malfoy, it seems you're quite the gentleman tonight." Millicent's tone is mocking. Malfoy stiffens, but says nothing, his eyes narrowing slightly at the pair intruding.

Pucey leans forward. "Careful, Draco. You wouldn't want to lose sight of what's…important, would you?" A sneer plastered on his face. "What would your father think after all?"

My anger and magic flare to life, barely contained inside my body. I swear I see the tendrils of my hair seemingly come to life, like snakes, as my magic dances around me. I feel Malfoy's hand grip my arm slightly tighter, and I shake it off slightly. He may not feel the need to say something, but as I told Theo, I can fight my own battles.

"What game are you playing at, Pucey?" My voice was sharp, barely masking the simmering fury beneath. His smirk faltered, and I felt my magic surge again. "Do you really think your pathetic insults will make any difference?"

His face flushes with embarrassment before his eyes gleam. "You think you can waltz in here and make a place for yourself, Black? But no one here will trust you. You're too dangerous—too unpredictable."

My magic flared, sharp and hot. Pucey's words struck a nerve, but I wasn't about to let him ruin my night. I stepped forward, my voice low and steady. 'Do you ever get tired of playing the villain, Pucey?"

Pucey tries to lean closer but Malfoy shifts so as to put himself slightly in front of me while Pucey continues to drip venom. "No one really wants you here, Black. Not truly."

Malfoy's hand on me tenses, his previous moment of vulnerability vanishing as his own magic becomes palpable next to me. "That's enough, Pucey."

Pucey chuckles, backing off slightly, but his smirk remains. "Just a friendly reminder, Draco. Don't get too... distracted." He walks away, leaving a thick tension in the air.

Both Malfoy and I stand there for a moment, both waiting to see if Pucey and Milicent will turn back towards us. When they have moved from our sight, I feel Malfoy's hand pulling me quickly out of the Great Hall. Truthfully, I am thankful for his frosty grip anchoring me, as the provocations with both Ron and Pucey have me feeling a sense of impending combustion…like a powder keg.

It isn't until we are far from the Great Hall and heading up the stairs that I speak. "Where are we going?"

Malfoy says nothing and continues to pull me up until we hit the fourth floor. I watch curiously as he stops along a stretch of wall and paces back and forth. Suddenly, a door emerges where there was previously none. As he yanks me inside the door and it closes behind us, I am mesmerized by the sight I see inside. I stare in awe as the walls rearrange themselves, conjuring up furniture and objects from thin air. My mind races—how can this magic even exist? Matter from nothing… it defies every law of physics I know.

Malfoy chuckles behind me. "Did I say that out loud?" I ask him, confused.

"You didn't need to, your curiosity is so clearly written on your face." He flashes a grin. I watch him loosen the tie around his neck so it hangs open around his neck. It's the most undone I have ever seen… he's almost…

I don't finish the thought as I turn back to the room. "So what is this place?"

"Some place you can be dramatic and not cause permanent damage to the castle." His voice is cold but there is a hint of amusement laced in there as well.

I roll my eyes at him. "Dramatic? That's rich coming from the boy who just dragged me through half the castle without a word." My voice is sharp, but the hint of a smile tugs at my lips as I turn back to the room, still marveling at how the walls seem to shift with every breath I take.

"But seriously, Malfoy… what is this place?" I can't help but ask again, softer this time, my eyes tracing the intricate details of the room as if trying to unlock the mystery myself. The walls still ripple, not feeling fully formed, as if they are waiting for something.

Malfoy steps towards me, slowly encroaching on my space, testing to see if I'll back away. He's smirking slightly as he watches me. "It's the Room of Requirement. It gives you what you need, when you need it."

Insane, inside
The danger gets me high

Each step Malfoy takes causes my magic to crackle. Not like with Pucey or Ron, but like it did before our dance. It's like two opposing elements…sparking to see if either one will buckle to the other. Malfoy is less than an arm's length away from me, his eyes meet my gaze, his smirk fading slightly, and for a moment, something unreadable flickers in his eyes.. "What do you need, Black?"

It's one of the more difficult questions for me to answer. What do I need? To feel like I belong. But how do you let yourself be vulnerable enough to admit that? To let my own walls down and give weight to the venom that Pucey spits? Or is the question what do I need right now? That's a much easier question to vocalize at this moment.

Before I can say anything though, I watch as the room around us transforms into a small ballroom, with parquet flooring, rich tapestries on the walls, and candles burning softly in chandeliers overhead.

Can't help myself
Got secrets I can't tell

I turn back to Malfoy and smile. "Dance with me." I say as I hold my hand out for him to take…for him to decide if he accepts.

Malfoy's hand hovers over mine for a moment, his gray eyes lingering on me with that unreadable expression again. But then he smiles and takes my hand, his fingers cool and steady as he pulls me into starting position. His other hand finds the small of my back, firm and solid, and we settle into the beginning of a waltz.

As we move through the steps, the room feels alive. I hear the ambient soft sounds of music float through the air around us. The candles flicker in time with the rhythm, and the parquet floor beneath our feet gleams with an almost ethereal sheen.

"What does dancing make you feel?" Malfoy asks softly, a hint of teasing in his intonation.

I close my eyes and let him guide me through the steps. He's an easy partner, one that I can let go of thinking about the music and feel it instead. "Alive." I say, breathier than I anticipated.

I love the smell of gasolineI light the match to taste the heat

He spins me out so only our fingertips touch, before quickly pulling me back to continue on the dance.

"Then why are you holding back?" He questions.

I laugh. "What makes you think I am?"

He arches an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"

Malfoy's steps are precise, controlled. His body moves with practiced ease, but I can feel the tension in him—like he's holding something back. His eyes never leave mine.

"I could say the same for you." I meet his gaze with a challenging smirk. "I can feel it in your movement. That tension you keep through your frame. Why do you keep your walls so tight?" I turn his question back on him. "What do you really need, Malfoy?"

I ride (I ride) the edge (the edge)
My speed goes in the red

He doesn't answer me, but this…dancing with him, feeling the crackle of our magic in every movement…shouldn't feel so... right. And yet it does. The tension that's been building since I arrived at Hogwarts, that calming icy presence, the heat I felt after that night in the dungeons, the way it feels dancing with him tonight. It leaves me wanting more.

The next time Malfoy spins me out and back, he pulls my body so that my back comes in hard against his chest. I feel him lean in, his voice a low whisper near my ear. "Do you want to dance..." He pauses, and I feel the shift in his energy, the intensity of the magic between us sharper now. "...or do you want to dance?"

There's no mistaking the challenge in his voice. This is a question about more than just the dance. It's about control, about power, about something deeper that neither of us is willing to name.

A slow smile tugs at my lips. "Let's dance."

Hot blood (hot blood), these veins (these veins)
My pleasure is their pain

There's an undercurrent of something darker in the magic around us now, something feral. I see Malfoy's hand move from my hip to his pocket to pull out his wand. With a flick and twist of his wrist, I watch as the skirts of my gown seem to burn away into a shorter, silkier one, one that would allow more movement. As he puts his wand away, his hand returns to my hip and he pulls me closer, his grip firm as we move into the sharp, magnetic movements of a tango.

I love to watch the castles burn
These golden ashes turn to dirt (hmm, hmm)

The music shifts, becoming more intense, the violins rising in tempo as we move. His hand tightens on my waist, and I'm pressed against him, the heat between us undeniable. Each step is precise, the rhythm of our bodies matched perfectly.

We move in sync, the floor beneath us a blur as he spins me out and pulls me back, our legs tangling, our movements sharper, more deliberate. Every touch, every glance feels like a challenge—neither of us is willing to give the other an inch. The push and pull of the tango is intoxicating, every step more daring than the last. When Malfoy twirls me again, his hand on my lower back pulling me in close, I feel the sharp intake of his breath.

… Play with fire
Play with fire

We move again, our steps a blur of motion and heat. The dance is no longer about precision or grace—it's about control, and this electric connection between us.

With one final spin, he pulls me in sharply, dipping me low as the music reaches its crescendo. His grip tightens, and for a second, everything stops—the world around us vanishing as we're locked in each other's gaze.

"What do you want, River?" Malfoy asks me. His question is deliberate, as is his use of my first name instead of Black. It's no longer about need, it's about wants… desires…

I've always liked to play with fire

"Show me…" My chest heaves slightly, as if the fire brewing is eating away at all the oxygen in my lungs. "Show me what it's like…when your walls come down."

For a heartbeat, it feels like he might kiss me. The thought lingers in the air, unspoken, but undeniable. His nose brushes against mine, his eyes are hooded and storming.

I feel him pulling away from me. I comprehend, but do not understand. The internal conflict I can only assume is waging inside him. It's unfair of me to ask him to lay his secrets bare when I haven't done that for him. I haven't seen his left arm uncovered, but I wouldn't be surprised to see the black swirling ink there.

But…there is still a piece of him here… in this moment with me, that doesn't feel touched by that. A piece that allows me to think there is more to Draco Malfoy than he lets others see. "What are you afraid of Draco?"

He lets out a slow, deliberate breath, his hand sliding from my waist to brush my arm as if he's forcing himself to step back from the edge.

"River…" His voice is low, gravelly, but there's a hesitation now, a crack in the heat that had built between us. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I do… but I can see you aren't ready to let me in." I say somewhat sadly as I move out of the dance we have been doing all night.

His hand lingers on my arm for a moment longer, fingers grazing my skin as though he's fighting the urge to let go. I make the choice for him and move away slowly. "Come find me when you are." I turn and leave Draco standing in the dissolving ballroom, leaving his icy presence that cools the fire in my blood more than he realizes.

An: For those curious, here is Sirius Black's Mixtape Vol 1:

The Kinks – "I'm Not Like Everybody Else"
The Rolling Stones – "Paint it Black"
The Animals – "House of the Rising Sun"
Led Zeppelin – "Black Dog"
David Bowie – "Rebel Rebel"
Sex Pistols – "Anarchy in the U.K."
The Clash – "London Calling"
Queen – "I Want to Break Free"
The Rolling Stones – "Sympathy for the Devil"
The Who – "Dogs"
The Beatles – "Rain"
Pink Floyd – "Wish You Were Here"