The Mists of Memory

Translated by: Sneeky Witch

Beta-read by: Chibisarel and Porlock Thanks so much to both! *HUGS!*

Disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A thing said by a character in this story is quoted from the japanese Comic "Fruits Basket". I'd like to point out that this is NOT a crossover with Fruits Basket. I just liked that phrase and thought to use it. Who knows Fruits Basket can understand which phrase I'm talking about.

Author's note:

Yes, I did it. I started a new fic... as always the plot bunny was screaming too high in my ear. I hope you'll like it. I think I can manage to put up one chapter at week, since I'm writing it in Italian and my friend Sneeky is translating the chapters for me. I'd wish doing this for every fic...

I hope you'll enjoy the fic. It's a post-Hogwarts story, where a lot of the Harry Potter mysteries will find a reason. Not a reason I thought about by myself, but a reason I found out reading the same legends on which JKR books are based upon. Of course, I don't think she used them in the same way I did. She's too much good for me. But... well this is just my interpretation :)

By the way: This is a very long story. I've divided it into four parts, and it will be maybe more than 80 chapters in full length. "The Mists of Memory" is only the FIRST part of it. The fic starts as H/G, R/Hr and D/Oc. But, as it happens in true life, nothing will be the same in the end... So don't give up hopes you shippers ;)

Note of the 5 July 2003: Since nowadays, this fic is written OotP-wise. I've read OotP and I have worked on the already written chapters changing what wasn't compatible with canon. I hope that you will enjoy the changes!

He ran, without a destination, through the dark and lonely streets of Muggle London. The rain hit him and wormed itself everywhere, under the neck of his shirt, down his jeans, bathing him. He shook from the cold, and at the same time felt a burst of warmth inside. He took the first street to his right then quickly turned left, stopping for a moment, to decide between two paths. He picked one and continued to rush, trying to find an open place where there were people, where he could vanish into the crowd.

His heart seemed to want to burst out of his chest, and his breath echoed throughout the deserted alleyways. The Muggle clothes that he wore were completely soiled and soaked. They stuck to him and greatly annoyed him. His feet were frozen inside his wet shoes that squelched with every step he took. His fists felt like blocks of ice.

How he hated to have to dress like a Muggle. How he hated to always have to be in contact with them. How he hated to have to sleep in hotels that were smelly and too full of people, often sharing the bed with someone. Not because there was no space. Nor because he didn't have money... but he had to.

He couldn't do anything else. Why did it happen to him? Only to him?

*Mr. Malfoy, good evening. Mr. Malfoy?* the smiling face of a girl with brown hair appeared, urgently in his mind.

No, it's impossible, it can't be true. Go! Don't follow me! He brought his hands to his temples while he continued to run and shook his head. No, he didn't want to remember!

*Mr. Malfoy, look... it's snowing!*

Faster, hurry up! He had to succeed in finding a shelter, a place where he couldn't be found; a place where memories didn't attack him.

Damn! Why did they have to find him today? Why was it that today he didn't succeed in finding a place in one of the many hotels in London? Why was it that today there wasn't even a single bloody person on the street with whom he could be confused?

*I have always loved the snow, Mr. Malfoy. But my family moved to Miami, in the last few years. This is the first time that I have seen snow in a while!*

Turn right, to the left... no, a blind alley! Go straight. They can't catch me...they can't catch me...they can't catch me! His heart seemed to echo his thoughts with tumultuous beats in unison with his temples where the blood pulsed furiously. His heart seemed to want to establish itself in his throat while his legs began to yield to the hard work. They felt heavy, rigid. He wavered.

NO! I must find some people. Damn, why isn't there anybody around? He tripped and fell. He got up, tired and gasping for air. He looked around, granting himself the luxury of a short rest.

It was eleven o'clock in the evening on that mid-December day. The rain was pelting his skin like a whip; only a little colder and it would have been snow instead. His breath looked like a nearly solid cloud in front of his face. His knees burned like fire under his soaked clothing. His frozen feet hurt him. He coughed from fatigue while his eyes continued searching feverishly. The darkness that enveloped London's roads and alleys did not help when you wanted to watch behind you during an escape. He saw a flash in the shadows and his heart once again felt like a drum beating.

*Mr. Malfoy, do you know what becomes of snow when it melts?*

*Well, sure... water? Vapour?*

He had finished Hogwarts four years ago... and he had passed the last two ones in this manner. Running away from the Dementors who hunted him everywhere he went. They tormented him because of resentment, pain and remorse - because of hate.

*No, Mr. Malfoy. You are mistaken! It becomes spring!* A luminous smile he'd received had warmed his heart, he remembered as if it had been yesterday. He remembered the tiny girl who he had met at the Ministry of the Magic. Marion was her name. Marion...

No, stop... Why must I remember her, why? I don't want to remember. I can't... allow myself... He looked around, terrified.

Every angle was illuminated by the spectral lights of the lampposts, all looking like they were hiding some kind of trap. A Dementor could be ready to suck his soul. No! He'd like to hold on to his soul, thank you very much. Losing it was the last thing he wanted.

He resumed running, even if his legs could not resist any longer, even though his eyesight was becoming clouded. Even though his heart was bursting in his chest and the pain at the back of his throat was stretching his endurance to it�s limits. He felt his lungs with raw precision. He would have been able to tell exactly where they began and where they ended. His spleen made its presence known as well. His knees shook and his feet slid around in his gym shoes; they were too wet to adhere to the slippery floor.

I'm a coward... an idiot. An egotist... he thought, while he tried desperately to look for a place to hide. Anything would do: a gate ajar, an open pub door; anything that took him off the street and took him among people, where the Dementors couldn't find him; where the Dementors could be distracted.

Perhaps it would be better to end it, he thought, slowing down. To die was probably more dignified than to continue living as he had. He wouldn't be able to resist for much long anyway. But something prevented him from letting go. Was it a survival instinct? Was it a will to hold on to life or at least a memory? Or was it, perhaps, his pride?

Of course not... the truth is that I'm a coward! He thought, hurrying his steps. I don't have the courage to die.

Unexpectedly, he turned left without looking where he was going. He found himself on a treacherous street. He felt the squishing of his feet in the puddles as if they were far away and came from another world.

He bumped against someone, and uttered an excuse while he turned and struggled not to fall and continue running. A car stopped in front of him all of a sudden. The headlights hurt his eyes, which by now were accustomed to the dark, and it bothered him. In order to avoid it he stepped to the right and continued straight, his eyes still dazzled from the headlights. He did it without watching where he was stepping or where he was going. This alley was just like any other alley, right?

He reached a dead end.

He did an about-face. Still blinded, he blinked as he observed the road he had left, trying to focus his eyes on it. At the end of the alley, just ahead he saw his only way out... there it was!

The Dementor.

He tripped over his Muggle shoelaces and fell.

*Father, what are you doing?*

*Father, let Marion go, what has she done to you?*

*Marion... now she has become Marion. We have arrived to this?* The dark and angry face of Lucius appeared in front of his eyes. It wore a fixed look loaded with contempt. A contempt that hurt him in the deepest parts of his soul. It made him feel like a Mudblood. Even worse... he felt less than a human being.

No, no...

The Dementor was slowly approaching. Draco was completely still, kneeling on the ground, his arms on the soaked asphalt. His breath created solid clouds when he gasped for air in the cold of the night. He was exhausted. He couldn't do anything other than observe death approaching. He'd be worse than a dead man. He knew it... a being without a soul.

Like his father.

And, what distressed him more was the knowledge... the certainty that he deserved it.

*Crucio!*

*No, Father! No!*

*Draco! This whore is taking you for a ride. Do you not understand that she wants to trick you? Do you not understand that she wants only your money?* Lucius' hard eyes had sweetened in the veiled sarcasm of madness. He looked as if he was trying to convince himself of the truth of what he was saying, because it was the only truth possible.

*It isn't true!* the painful howl of the only woman who had succeeded in melting his heart echoed in the air.

No, please, please... By now he was trapped in the memory. He could not move, did not want to move. The Dementor was approaching, slowly, enjoying his terror and nourishing itself on his anguish, on his pain, his disgust towards himself, his sense of guilt. He was drowning in guilt. He felt guilty because of himself, and guilty because of Marion.

He couldn't remember how to get rid of it. He cursed himself, in the last dim light of lucidity that remained, not having paid attention to those lessons of Defence against the Dark Arts in his seventh year. But by now it was too late, much too late for stupid regrets.

*It's true! This woman is lying to you! Do you want to tarnish the Malfoy name!?* The look on Lucius's face would have frozen an erupting volcano, but it had not intimidated him. No, he wanted to defend the woman that he loved.

Lucius had slapped him and was ready to hit him again if he objected. And, in that moment, he hated him. For the first time in his life, he hated his name, from the deepest reaches of his heart. He hated his lineage and all it meant.

But what was worse, he hated his father.

His idol...

His model...

The one who represented everything he had intended to become.

The utopian image that had been forged in his mind since his childhood had broken into a thousand pieces in a moment, and this had made him feel devastated even more so than Marion's shouts.

*NO!* she howled, between the spasms of pain. *Mr. Malfoy, I'm not lying! I'm not lying... * But her prayers could hardly heard between her screaming and sobs. Draco, with his hand still on his aching cheek, had approached Marion. He placed himself in front of her, preventing his father from torturing her further. His pale eyes were glaring fixedly at the man he had, at one time, considered a God.

No!

*Remove yourself from there, you degenerate son!*

*No! I won't allow you to keep hurting her!* Draco's look was firm, hard and cold. It was the first time in his life that he had felt true hatred towards someone. Not even towards Dumbledore, not even towards Potter. He had never tasted hatred so dark and penetrating. Therefore, he was ready to do anything in that moment, also to kill his father.

NO!

*Remove yourself. If you don't remove yourself, I'll torture you as well,* his father threatened.

I beg you, NO!

*Try it.. * he started to say while a hand ran automatically to his wand in his pocket. But he didn't do it, the words died in his throat.

*No, Mr. Malfoy, don't do it! 'It... It's true! It's true... I... I have tricked him. I have taken Draco for a fool. I have done it only for the money. My family is drowning in debt and I...* she said, with pleading look. He turned and watched in disbelief. It couldn't be true. He saw in her eyes that it was not true, but that moment of uncertainty had been his ruin.

NO! NO!! He brought his hands to his temples while shaking his head, and began to mumble senselessly. He crouched embracing his knees. He felt tears run down his cold cheeks, reaching his mouth while he sobbed. He tasted the salt and bitterness at the same time, but couldn't stop crying.

*Avada Kedavra.* His heart stopped at the sound of those two words. He looked in the direction his father had moved. They were side by side now... and he had not been careful. He saw a flash of triumph in his father's eyes, so hard, cold and grey; just like his.

NO!! I beg you, ENOUGH! Anything you want. Kill me. Strip me of my soul. Render me a vegetable... none of it matters, nothing! Nothing! But don't...

He turned around slowly towards the point where, until a moment before, she suffered and he cried for the only one that he truly loved.

... no...

The only one who had ever loved him,

... no...

The only one that had made him feel alive,

... I can't see her again!

And he had seen her; lying on the stone pavement. Her hands were still together. She still had tears on her cheeks. Her brown eyes were now open wide with a look between surprise and horror. Those eyes that until just hours before, were sweet and full of life. Laughing. Those eyes that had stricken his heart and made him experience so many emotions and so much joy were now cold, and empty... staring at him.

'NOO!'

He withdrew into himself; by now unconscious of the rain, of the mud that stained him, of the cold that penetrated his bones and made him shiver. He was unconscious to the fact that within moments he would be worse than dead; the Dementor had by now caught up with him, and he didn't care about anything anymore.

The monster took him with both hands and pulled. It fixed on him for a long moment. He looked Death in the face and found out he could accept it. He deserved it; it was what he wanted now. He wanted to get rid of the pain, to get rid of the anguish, the fear.

I'm soaked, without dignity, will or honour... dressed with Muggle clothing and hating my name and myself. I'm in a fetid and dark alley... like a criminal. What a beautiful way to die, for the last one of the Malfoys...

'EXPECTO PATRONUM!' the urgent cry of a male voice ripped through the air, echoing around the deserted alley.

Draco turned around suddenly. He was dripping with sweat, rain and tears. His eyes were still red from crying. He could not believe his fortune, but he was seeing it, indeed. A beautiful Patronus in the shape of a stag took aim at the dark figure in front of him, ready to kill.

The wonderful creature caught them and enveloped them like a shield between the boy and the monster. The Dementor howled like an animal; an acute and strong howl, enough to freeze the blood; and fled. Draco fell to his knees, gagging, and saw it running towards the dusk of the night. Still, it felt very strange to still be alive...

'Move on. Quick, before that thing returns with reinforcements!' a voice brought him back to reality. Someone stretched out a hand, and he took it. It was warm. He didn't know the identity of the person who had saved him - he could not see clearly in the darkness. In any case, he would have followed the stranger until the ends of the Earth.

'I...' he mumbled.

'Questions later... now run!' His saviour helped him get up and began to escape, dragging him along. Draco still didn't understand the situation, but concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and at least follow the person who had saved him for a while.

They ran at break-neck speed through the dark roads of London, impervious to the rain that had continued to fall to mix with the sleet. They didn't notice the puddles that soaked them to the bone. Unexpectedly, they saw a gate half open and they entered it, closing it behind them.

They both fell to their knees, gasping for air. Draco was still in a state of total confusion. He felt as if he was living in a dream and did not want to wake up... But it definitely wasn't a dream, he realized. He was incredibly cold and his teeth were chattering. His feet, still frozen, tingled painfully. There was not a part of his body that was dry and the icy drops that fell from his hair flowed without mercy down his neck and trickled down his back. But.... He was alive! And still the same!

'I...' he started to say, between breaths. He didn't know what to say. He only knew that he now owed a large debt to this person. His life had been saved and Draco knew the Wizards Code of Honour really well. He now was linked to someone with ties that were stronger than any Muggle contract.

'Are you feeling better?' he was asked. Draco nodded and finally raised his eyes. The light shone on the ledge where they were sheltered. He was able to see who accompanied him - and his heart stopped.

The jet-black hair was a little dishevelled. The glasses, round and soaked, were covering a pair of shining green eyes that looked at him with a mix of amusement and worry. On his forehead, under the wet and dirty hair, he caught a glimpse of a scar shaped like a lightning bolt.

'I don't expect you're pleased to see me, Malfoy' his rescuer continued between breaths and an amused grin on his lips, while he removed his glasses and began to clean them with a dry handkerchief. 'It would be nice to hear you say thanks, at least once, but I know you won't.'

He looked at Draco mockingly for a moment, while his hands dealt with his glasses. Then, the amusement vanished and his face assumed a more serious expression. He looked at the ground, putting his clean glasses back on. 'I didn't save you because of heroics, or in order to make fun of you. It's just that... nobody should die in a back alley in such a horrible way. Not even you.' Draco trembled while his companion glanced at him again.

Potter, yes, that Potter, had saved his life.

Written by: Kagome-sama

Translated by: Sneeky Witch

Beta-read by: Chibisarel and Porlock Thanks so much to both! *HUGS!*

Disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A thing said by a character in this story is quoted from the japanese Comic "Fruits Basket". I'd like to point out that this is NOT a crossover with Fruits Basket. I just liked that phrase and thought to use it. Who knows Fruits Basket can understand which phrase I'm talking about.

Author's note:

I'd like to thank everybody for the nice reviews they wrote about my story. I'm not picky about feedback, feel free to write whatever you want. I don't bite and I'm always happy to read your opinions! :)

Note of the 5 July 2003: Since nowadays, this fic is written OotP-wise. I've read OotP and I have worked on the already written chapters changing what wasn't compatible with canon. I hope that you will enjoy the changes!

It took Draco several minutes to recover from the shock. He continued to stare on Potter, looking at him re-adjusting his clothes. He saw Harry remove the heavy cape with the pointed hood and shake it, in order to get rid of the water. Then Harry squeezed the sleeves of his jacket and the legs of his trousers; used a handkerchief to dry himself and shake off the ice; put his cape back on and turned to look at him.

'The last person I thought I'd run into in a place like this, running from a Dementor no less, was you, Malfoy. What has happened?' Harry said, staring at Draco with sincere curiosity. He seemed truly concerned for him. How could he be? How?

'And the last person I thought I'd find was you, Potter. Damn! What made you think that I wanted your bloody help?' The words came out venomous and acidic.

'I'd gracefully remind Your Lordship that if I weren't there to help you, your person wouldn't be a pretty sight to behold, right now.' he replied mockingly. A hard smile curved Draco's lips. Well, it seems Potter knows what sarcasm is; time hasn't gone by only for me, after all.

'Seems like you just don't get it in that ridiculous brain of yours. *Your Lordship* didn't have any intention of being saved, especially not by you,' he replied. And it was true. To die was sure more dignified for him than to find himself in a life debt to... Potter! His father would never forgive him. But then again, his father was more than dead by now. Who would reproach him? His eyes were staring right on his companion who glanced back at him ironically.

Harry stretched out a hand, helping him to stand up. With the greatest ease in the world he approached the door and opened it. A gust of icy air whisked into the landing, together with some snowflakes that had replaced the earlier rain and now quickly settled to the floor. He gestured towards the door with his free hand.

'So... if it annoys you so much to be alive the door is open you can leave,' Harry said, looking at him mockingly. 'I don't think they'll need much time to find you again. There's nobody around in this bad weather...' he smiled at Draco's bewilderment.

'I didn't want to be saved. Still, that doesn't mean I want to go back outside...' Draco replied, shuddering. Harry nodded with a smile and closed the door. He ran his hands through his hair, approached the steps slowly and sat down. Draco sat down too, leaned against the wall, and lowered his eyes.

'Why were you out in this weather?' Harry said without looking at him, instead lowering his eyes and looking at his shoes. He took a moment to untie them and tie them again, making sure he tightened the shoelaces more than before.

'I'd ask the same of you.' he replied icily. 'It's not that easy, nowadays, to run into Harry Potter. Especially in the streets of London.' This distracted Harry from his shoes, and a pair of green eyes stared at him. The Boy-Who-Lived seemed to reflect carefully on those words.

It was true.

They had finished Hogwarts four years ago. During their seventh year, they had faced Voldemort using the only weapon that could cause his death, the Green Torch. They had found it inside the Department of Mysteries, it was hidden inside an enclosed room. They had used it in a memorable battle, a fight that had nearly killed everyone. Professor McGonagall, the new Headmistress after Dumbledore had disappeared in the sixth year, had died helping them. It had been a terrible loss.

They had become heroes. They had ended the year under the limelight, even if their hearts were drowning into sorrow. For a while things had gone well, but Harry had never liked to be the centre of the attention, and this time wasn't an exception. He wanted to be able to take some time for himself, to recover from the blow of the terrible losses he had endured - it was what all of them wanted. Even if they hadn't noticed it before, they had loved the former Head of Gryffindor House. She had left an overwhelming emptiness in their hearts.

Strangely enough, few time after Dumbledore disappeared, Sirius had came back... all of sudden and without giving explanations. Harry couldn't be more happy, but his godfather didn't want to tell him how could he go out the Veil. Harry had tried to ask it lots of times, but Sirius always changed subject… in the end he didn't ask any more, accepting Sirius's right to keep it secret. He had the feeling that Professor Dumbledore should have had a role into this, though.

Anyway, Harry had used his newly acquired "influence" over the Ministry of Magic to clear Sirius from all the charges. The day when the sentence of his godfather had been revoked had been one of the happiest of his life. He'd not been forced to return to Privet Drive any longer, and he had moved to number 12, Grimauld Place.

Ron had finally had his dreams come true... He'd got married to Hermione in an intimate ceremony to which only a few friends were invited. Apart from that, he had become the reserve keeper for the Chudley Cannons, the team he'd always supported. Hermione had continued to study and was often travelling, in order to comply with her new job at the Ministry of Magic. They were like two peas in a pod; they argued constantly, but reconciled quickly.

Then, little more than two years before: the ruin. Someone had destroyed their peace that had been so hard to earn. Someone whose name was Voldemort.

Yes, him... once again. Still alive, despite all efforts.

'It's not easy to meet you either. I read in the Daily Prophet that your father received the Dementor's Kiss two years ago. Many Aurors have been looking for you ever since.'

'Are you one of them perhaps? Were you following me? If so, you should have let that Dementor kill me. I'd have preferred that than to be indebted to you. And I'm sincere,' Draco said, slurring his words a little because his teeth were chattering. He looked at Harry again with his pale blue-grey eyes and continued to shake uncontrollably. He couldn't stop himself, and, in the same way, he couldn't help but coughing.

'Me? An Auror? You're kidding! I wasn't at all trying to get you. I'd gone out to get something to eat.' he sadly pointed to the package he was carrying, which Draco saw for the first time. 'But it'll be cold by now, so the others won't want it.' he sighed.

'What were you doing in the alley then? The stores in this neighbourhood were all closed...'

'In fact I got this from the other side of the city. I'd only just Reapparated here when you bumped into me.'

Draco was startled. So that was Potter... He must have followed from that point, in order to help me. He tightened his fists in anger. 'Don't expect any excuses,' he hissed dryly; Harry bent his head backwards and laughed, a genuine laugh, like that of a child.

'Of course not, even if I think that you already did. And I don't expect you to thank me either; I know that you won't.' Without looking at Draco, Harry opened the package he bought in the centre of London. It was all cold... well, it didn't matter, they'd always heat it up. He took something and bit into it. Then he turned towards Draco and threw him another. 'Eat,' he said. Draco observed with astonishment that what he had caught instinctively was a chocolate bar.

'I won't accept your charity, Potter.' Draco said, his teeth chattering with every word. It was not easy maintaining a semblance of dignity in that state... and he couldn't stop coughing, damn!

'Malfoy, I've always thought you as a git; still, I've never thought you as an idiot,' Harry smiled while Draco's eyes became very small cracks on his face. 'You were about to receive a Kiss from a Dementor; it's not a small thing. You don't see you're shaking?'

Draco realized at that moment that Harry was right. Probably the shivers running along his back weren't due to the cold alone...

'I think I would've done that in any case,' he reflected aloud, looking down at his soaking clothes. But he looked at the bar and bit into it. Also, Harry seemed to notice his condition for the first time, and observed him, astonished.

'I suppose that you won't tell me what made you go out in this weather without an umbrella,' he stated.

'For once, you suppose correctly, Potter.' Draco looked at the floor. The only thing he still had left was a small crumb of pride. If Potter would find out what kind of life he'd been leading, he'd never dare to look at himself in the mirror.

He knew very well he looked like a shadow of who he once had been. Paler than he had ever been, haggard, dirty... he disgusted himself. There was no need for Potter to add more stones to his back. In truth he has already added one... He smiled sardonically at that thought.

'However, I don't think that you've been having a good time... I remember you more in shape. And I never suspected you liked Muggle clothes,' Harry said - he was having fun. It was obvious that Malfoy had problems, and he wanted to understand the truth. He wanted to help, but Draco had to let himself be helped. That, given that it was Malfoy, was a thing hard to believe or obtain.

'Actually, I don't like this crap.' Draco looked disgustedly at the soaked clothes that he wore. 'If I hadn't been forced to, I would never have put them on.'

'The Malfoys have never had money problems. So I suppose you live among Muggles now; I'd never think you'd stand it.' Harry sneered at Draco. 'But I suppose it wasn't your choice.'

'What choice could I have? Azkaban perhaps?' His look seemed to harden, if it was possible. He was silent for a moment, too busy trying to stop himself from coughing, then he continued, 'You seem amused at making fun of me. Well, the game has lasted too long. I'm leaving now, many thanks.'

Draco got up suddenly. In those two long years he had often had rapid mood changes, but never had he felt so nervous. His head felt like it was going to explode and the shivers that ran down his back, even if diminished after eating the chocolate, did not go away. But, after all, his clothes were still soaked and the moisture was penetrating to his bones, freezing him.

'Where do you want to go in this weather? D'you have somewhere to go?' asked Harry with worry. For the first time since they had entered that house, he was aware of the sad condition of the person in front of him. He hadn't noticed it - the arrogant air that Draco had succeeded in using had fooled him. But, when the boy got up, he seemed to stagger and to put down one hand, fast, on the wall. Harry saw him shake his head again and blink his eyes two or three times, before proceeding.

'...'

Draco tried to put a foot in front of the other, leaning against the wall forcefully. Damn... he didn't feel well at all. And the thought of returning to that storm didn't really please him.

'I'm being stupid. If you had a place to go to, certainly you wouldn't have been out in that storm, escaping from the Dementors...' Harry thought aloud.

'Why the hell d'you care?' Draco roared. While still opening the door, he turned his head suddenly to watch Harry over his shoulder.

'So you can't leave,' Harry finally concluded, whispering to himself scratching the nape of his neck with his right hand. 'If you weren't Draco Malfoy, I'd take you to the others. But they'd never forgive me if you betrayed us.'

'Potter...' Draco turned towards Harry with difficulty, while placing a hand on the door. 'It costs me dearly having to tell you this, but I don't want you to get wrong ideas in that worm-eaten brain of yours. Remember that a Malfoy would never betray a life debt.' He looked at Harry before exerting greater pressure on the handle of the door, in order to open it.

I can't do it. If I let him leave, he won't last the night, Harry thought in horror. The temperature was dropping, and Draco was still wearing wet clothes. Harry wasn't completely dry either, but his clothes had not been totally soaked; while Draco's had.

Not that there was time to think; Harry forced himself to trust Draco. It cost him much, but he knew there was no other choice - that is... he had a choice, but he didn't want to consider it. He rose from the step where he sat, taking the package of food. Then he hurried towards the door that Draco had finally opened. He put a hand on Draco's shoulder, supporting him and they Apparated together.

When they Reapparated, they found themselves a few steps from the large double doors of a huge, abandoned palace. Draco broke away from Harry's support as through on fire.

'Potter, how many times must I tell you that I don't need you help.' Draco hissed acidly, trying to get away. The snow was fluttering by now, everywhere, covering the roads with its white cape. The cold had become stronger than before.

'Don't act like an idiot now, Malfoy. Anyone with a little intelligence would know when they've reached their limit.' Harry took him by the collar of the jacket, with force, and dragged him up again. They arrived in front of the door and looked around. He opened it with caution and he entered, carrying Draco's weight.

Finally, they made it to the landing and he let go. Draco tried to clean his jacket, annoyed, but the snowflakes didn't want to go away. He was about to do it again when the inner door of the palace - for sure an old abandoned hotel, or something similar - was opened.

'Harry, thank God you're back. We were worried!' one young woman with long, bushy brown hair, appeared at the door. She frowned and her voice showed restlessness. Behind her was a tall and muscled boy. He had red hair and the expression of someone who had just seen a monster.

'Sorry but... I had a hitch,' whispered Harry quickly glancing in Draco's direction. Ron Weasley's eyes got wide open, as did Hermione's. It was clear that they had recognized him immediately.

'Harry, whatever made you bring him here? Are you completely out of your mind?' they burst in unison.

'I notice that, as always, you have more brains than Potter, Mudblood,' Draco hissed, glaring at her mockingly. Hermione's eyes widened and tried to speak; she had definitely become unaccustomed to his insults. 'I'd like to point out that I've not come of my own free will. He dragged me here.' The two looked with horror at their companion.

'I found him when I was coming back. He was being chased by a Dementor and I saved his life.' Harry looked at Draco in the eyes, very serious.

'Save his life? Malfoy's?' Ron was getting more upset.

'Shut up, Weasel,' Draco yelled, annoyed. Evidently, he thought, age and Quidditch training has made him grow taller, but not smarter.

Harry didn't let them come to blows. He pushed Draco through the door and entered, removing his cape and hanging it on the clothes-hook. Closing the door, he put down the package on a piece of furniture in the wide entrance hall.

'Hermione, Ron, don't exaggerate now. Look at him... and tell me if I could leave him there.'

'Of course you should have left him there, Harry,' answered Hermione angrily, observing the new arrival with resentment. 'We know very well that he's a Death Eater.'

'I'M NOT A DEATH EATER!' Draco felt like his head would explode, and a deep pain in the center of his throat forced him to start coughing painfully, but he couldn't keep from shouting. Hermione stopped dead, vexed. She seemed astonished at a reaction of that sort. I can't blame her. Until a few years ago, it'd have been a compliment, for me, he thought. But now he didn't endure the girl's presumptions.

'Ah, you're not? Really? How can we be sure?' Ron hissed, glaring at him with hatred.

Hermione crossed her arms on her chest and rhythmically stomped her foot on the floor, staring at him irritatedly. 'For all we know you could also be a spy of Voldemort, ready to reveal our hiding place and get us captured. I'm amazed that no one has arrived yet.' Hearing these words, ire inflamed Draco's face. Up until now, he had looked as white as a sheet.

'Don't you dare say that again, Granger.' He showed his left arm, moving it with force in front of her eyes, while those words burnt him even more. 'Tell me, now, d'you believe me? I don't have the Mark, I'm not a Death Eater!' Hermione didn't seem to change her mind. She observed the waving arm and then glared at him again, annoyed.

'What would you want to demonstrate with this? You could be a spy for Voldemort without the Mark,' she rebutted without batting an eyelash. Draco knew that it was true and he couldn't blame her. However, he wasn't going to lose an argument with her and, above all, be confused for one of those. One such as his father.

'Now, Granger, please don't offend the intelligence of us both. My father has received a Dementor's Kiss...' he began to say while his sight was clouding. Damn, his headache had gotten worse and made him ache everywhere. 'Moreover...' he staggered while aiming a finger at Hermione. She watched him with an annoyed air.

'The parents of many current Death Eaters are in Azkaban now. Why should you be an exception? Your father is condemned because he murdered someone, if I'm not mistaken. How can we believe you? Even if Harry has saved you, you're still a Malfoy...' the girl hissed that name like it was an insult. Draco didn't see her any more, Marion's face appeared in front of him too vividly.

'I don't care if you can or cannot any accept this truth, Granger. It's important, though, that you get this into your damned Mudblood head. You said it yourself. I'm a MALFOY. A Malfoy, have you understood? Whenever you think of it, I know well what honour is... '

*Mr. Malfoy, good evening! Look, Mr. Malfoy, it's snowing!* Draco shook his head and blinked trying to remove that memory from his head while coughing. He began to feel colder, as if ice was invading his spirit. Oh... he knew that feeling well. He turned white, opening his eyes wide.

'What's happening to you, Malfoy? You've gone so pale you look like a ghost,' Hermione said. Despite the sour words, her tone showed anxiety. A thin line wrinkled her forehead, while she approached him.

'A Dementor... nearby,' murmured Harry, wavering and grabbing hold of the piece of furniture where he had put the package. He also grew a bit pale, but succeeded resuming control. Fortunately, this captured the attention of Hermione and Ron, leaving Draco to deal with his ghosts unnoticed.

*Mr. Malfoy look, how much snow! Mr. Malfoy?* Draco shook his head again, groaning because of the pain. He didn't want to see that again, didn't want to feel bad, not there. He had to leave. He turned around and moved to escape, but he staggered ignobly. He cursed - he didn't want to seem weak; not in front of a Mudblood and a Weasley, not in front of Potter.

*Mr. Malfoy! Look, it is snowing!* Marion's smile passed in front of his eyes, like a flash, followed by the forbidding and angry glare of his father. His heart tightened in pain.

*You don't understand that she's lying to you?*

*I'm not lying!*

*You don't understand that she's lying to you?*

*She's lying to you!*

*Mr. Malfoy, do you know what becomes of snow, when it melts?*

*She's a whore who wants to tarnish the Malfoy's name!*

*It's not true, Mr. Malfoy... *

*She's a whore...*

Without noticing, Draco brought his hands to his temples and rubbed his eyes. The memories, like annoying lightning bolts, emerged and dissolved in his brain, making him dizzy. Harry wasn't feeling well either - his hands on his temples exactly like Draco. Ron and Hermione came close to their friend asking him worriedly how he was feeling.

*I'm not lying Mr. Malfoy!*

*Draco, please... tell me that you'll never leave me.*

* She's lying. She wants only your money!*

*She'll tarnish the Malfoy's name!*

*Tell me that you won't ever betray me. I won't bear it.*

*She's lying...*

'ENOUGH!!' He screamed without noticing, smothering a cry while hopelessly embraced his clothes, which were still wet and cold. He felt his head heavy and didn't understand anything any more.

'Malfoy? What's happening?' a quick glance made him notice that not only Granger, but also Weasley looked at him with restlessness. Damn... he couldn't stand it any more... Hermione's face blended with Marion's; the questions of the girl in front of him melted into the howls of pain of the one he'd loved.

*I won't allow you to harm her!*

*Draco, look! Have you ever wondered what lies beyond the rainbow?*

*Remove yourself, degenerate son!*

*I'm so happy, Draco!*

*NO!*

*It's true! It's true, I was taking you for a ride!*

*I'll torture you too!*

*I'm not lying, Mr. Malfoy!*

*I'm not lying!*

*Avada Kedavra!*

'NOO!' He fell to his knees. He didn't want to think of anything. Once again that image of the woman he had loved, lying on that stone pavement. Once again those eyes, quietly accusatory in his conscience, dragged him to hell. He felt like someone had approached, and tried to move, but didn't succeed. He felt one hand, ice cold, on his forehead.

'He has a high fever!' someone smothered an outcry.

'Eh?' said another.

Draco felt them talking amongst themselves, then himself being seized under the armpits. They made him get up, guiding him somewhere. He didn't have the strength to be aware of where they were taking him or to give any resistance. The soft touch of a pillow behind his neck was the last thing that his mind recorded, before his consciousness slipped into darkness.

Author's note:

Here we are, this chapter's finished ^_^

I know, I know... I'm always more evil with the poor Draco. Now I made him also faint in front of Hermione and Ron... shame on him LOL.

I really hope that the story is appealing to you. I'd love to receive feedback to know if you like what's going on. I like reading the comments, they help me to go on even when I'm tired/upset/bored and such. So what are you waiting for? ^_^

Let's reply to the reviews I already got for chapter 1 :)

Tigerfairy: *^^* thank you so much! I'm happy you're liking the story so far! And I'm happy that you like how I'm doing Harry. I hope that you'll like even chapter 2 :)

frecklegirl87: Well, you must think that the around 80 chapters will be divided into 4 stories. "The Mists of Memory" is the first one of the saga and it should count 22/23 chapters. They should be all four around the same length :)

Stacearoo: I hope that you like even chapter 2 :)

dreamcatcher_3107: I hope that you liked even this chapter. As you can see (I've warned you readers in the introduction's Author Note) the fic starts with the "OBHWF", but things will slowly change... (I don't tell you how ;)) I hope that you will appreciate the story without thinking of the starting ships, but thinking of the devellopment and of the plot :).

In chapter 3 I'll reply to the reviews for this chapter ;)

Written by: Kagome-sama

Translated by: Sneeky Witch

Beta-read by: Chibisarel and Porlock Thanks so much to both! *HUGS!*

Disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A thing said by a character in this story is quoted from the japanese Comic "Fruits Basket". I'd like to point out that this is NOT a crossover with Fruits Basket. I just liked that phrase and thought to use it. Who knows Fruits Basket can understand which phrase I'm talking about.

Author's note:

I'm not picky about feedback, feel free to write whatever you want. I don't bite and I'm always happy to read your opinions! :)

Note of the 5 July 2003: Since nowadays, this fic is written OotP-wise. I've read OotP and I have worked on the already written chapters changing what wasn't compatible with canon. I hope that you will enjoy the changes!

Mist. The world around him was filled with it.

He knew he found himself in a forest, but he didn't see any further than a hand in front of his nose while the pouring rain overpowered every noise. He vaguely remembered an intense pain, a battle... one memorable clash. And now, where was he? Who was he?

With caution, he walked ahead, looking around. The intricate weave of the trees and the whipping of the thunderous rain didn't let him see anything. He turned around, and to his horror he found himself at the same point he'd started. He saw the body of a young man sprawled on the floor. It seemed vaguely familiar, as if he had known him well, but he didn't succeed in identifying him immediately. The boy was dark-haired and a little shorter than average. He couldn't see well, but the black hair, the robe and the cape reminded him of someone.

He stepped back in horror when he noticed the blood that was scattered all around on the floor. He realized that that man had to be dead � must have participated in the battle, because he wore a robe of ancient style and a kind of armour.

He noticed that, slowly, the mist began to disperse. The contours of the forest became clear and luminous and, finally, he could look around.

The thick brush seemed familiar, even frightful; only the placid and calm waters of a distant lake broke it. Even if the mist had abandoned the forest, it didn't seem to want to disperse completely, and above all it didn't seem to want to abandon those waters.

Unexpectedly, in the distance, a muffled cry attracted his attention. He didn't know just where it came from, but it meant that there was someone other than him in that forest.

He moved, looking around with caution, but didn't have to look for very long. Little further ahead of where he was, lying by the river, there was a man. He was not young, but his hair was red like the sun at sunset and was spotted with little threads of white. His face, suffering, was beaded with sweat. His clothing was of ancient style and was covered with his blood.

Next to the man, a small and delicate brunette woman, was crying. Her long braids were completely soaked, her face hidden between her hands.

'Why did it have to happen?' asked the man in a weak voice. 'Was there need to arrive at this point?' The woman recovered from her pain, and bowed over the dying man.

'Do not worry about that now. You will see that all will be well... You will be well. In the end, you were pardoned.'

'Yes, but at what price...' he said. He seemed willing to continue saying something, but his voice couldn't be heard over the muffled and regular beating of the rain. The woman bent over the dead body of the knight with red hair. Only her sobs resonated in the air, as a proof that she was, in some way, still alive.

Draco opened his eyes, unexpectedly. He instinctively sat up and looked around, uncomfortable. He was on a couch and wore clean pyjamas.

Where am I? It doesn't seem like the usual hotel... nor is this the couch where I normally sleep, and I normally don't put pyjamas on, he reflected while his senses noticed, without warning, the smell of food that wafted all around. His stomach growled furiously � it seemed that he hadn't eaten for days. He blushed; looking to see that there was nobody around.

He moved his legs off the couch in order to sit against the back. He felt weak... but surely, he felt better than the majority of mornings he'd had until now. The place was warm, and the pyjamas smelled of detergent.

Suddenly, he heard a noise and turned. He saw a girl with long, flaming red hair, a little shocked. She held something and it escaped her hands. It appeared to be a cloth. She collected it, blushing and made to leave the room.

'Wait,' said Draco, 'who are you? You can remain here you know... I assure you that I don't eat human flesh.' He tried to render the situation a bit more funny. She blushed even more, and stopped, watching him.

'I came to see if you had woken up. We were all worried about you. You've been very ill,' she said. Her voice was familiar, but who she was, he didn't remember.

'All?' asked he frowning a little. Who's all?

'... Harry, Ron... all...' she finished.

Draco opened his eyes when he heard those names, the memories of what had happened before feeling ill returned to his mind. He paled. It was true... Potter had saved his life. And he had the vague feeling he didn't have to only thank him for that Patronus... Damn!

'For how many days have I been ill?' he asked, frowning.

'You've had a high fever for four days. Hermione studied a little Muggle medicine, and said that you had pneumonia. She made a potion in order to cure to you, and slowly you've gotten better. But you didn't wake up... you were unconscious for ten days.' She wrinkled her forehead at the grunt of irritation from the boy. She approached, however, and sat on a chair in front of him.

'You're Ginny Weasley, right?' She agreed. Well... not only did he owe his life to Potter twice, but now he also had to thank the Mudblood? He was happier than ever with the situation... 'Now, all that's left is that Weasel has also done something for me, and I swear that I'll commit suicide...' He said ironically.

'If you mean Ron, he went somewhere to get ingredients for the potion for Hermione, and almost got attacked by a Death Eater. However, he didn't do it for you, but because Hermione asked. So, don't worry. Your life's not in danger,' said a voice to his right. Draco turned and recognized Harry; he sank against the couch.

'I was going to call you, Harry.' Ginny said rising hastily, as if the chair burned her.

'How long has he been awake, love?' He asked, emphasizing the word love in a way that, Draco supposed, didn't have appeal to the girl, because she looked a little annoyed.

'Only a few minutes; he finally seems to be well.'

'Good... give him something to wear and show him his way to the library. I'll come back.' Harry approached Ginny and embraced her from behind, giving her a light kiss on the neck. She seemed to appreciate the gesture. Or at least, she didn't withdraw, but smiled pleasantly, ruffling his hair with an affectionate gesture.

I must be mistaken, Draco thought shaking his head. Ginny waited until Harry left, then walked over to a piece of furniture beside the couch and took from a drawer items that seemed like a robe, a cape and some kind of underwear. She gave them to Draco and walked away modestly, entering another room.

Wow! A wizard's robe... how long has it been since I wore one? It was the only coherent thought while he dressed, suddenly happy. He sighed from the appealing feeling of the woven fabric on his skin � he never was able to tolerate the Muggle clothing that he was forced to wear in order to hide. Sure, the colour of maroon was not exactly his favourite... and he guessed to whom that robe belonged. It was a little too long for him, but not too much.

When he had dressed, he decided to see what the girl was doing. He discovered that the room where she had gone was the kitchen. It had a wider atmosphere than that one in which he had been confined. It was equipped with every type of comfort, reflected Draco.

He noticed, in an angle, a funny clock that had faces of Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and a man he didn't recognize. All the hands pointed to the library, except the one of Ginny, which said kitchen, and the one of Ron. Draco couldn't read where it pointed. Ginny was at the stove, checking that the roast was cooking to its point.

The unexpected smell of food made his stomach remind him of just how many days it had been since he'd eaten. The muffled noise his stomach made caused Draco to blush to the root of his hair.

'I can't believe that your face can get to that colour, Malfoy...' He turned to Ginny, who was smiling. Draco seemed to blush a little more, even if he resumed his usual waxen colour almost immediately. 'But I understand that after all those days fasting, you cannot resist the smell of food. After all, you're a human being. You seat yourself at the table. I'll bring you some tea with biscuits,' she ordered.

Draco smiled again, noticing how comfortable she looked in that kitchen. The girl returned with a pot of tea and some tarts and only when he bit into one did Draco notice just how hungry he was.

'It seems that you like my biscuits... Ron says that they are insipid, Harry... doesn't speak of them at all,' she snorted. Draco couldn't answer. He was too intent on putting the capacity of his jaws to the test. He hadn't eaten anything better than this in his whole life. Potter and Weasley must have somewhat strange tastes in food. It didn't surprise him, though.

'I saw before when Potter embraced you. You must be content Weasley. If memory serves, you nearly died, mooning over him at Hogwarts,' he said after swallowing a little tart and washing it down with tea. He saw Ginny�s expression darken.

'All that glitters is not gold.' Ginny stood, annoyed, and went away. After some minutes she returned with more tarts and a second pot of tea. It was clear that she had not gotten up for that � she could've simply made them appear on the table with a simple spell.

'What do you mean?' The hunger in Draco began to extinguish, and this new matter ignited his interest.

'Well... Harry is now my boyfriend,' her cheeks blushed furiously. 'Not that he treats me badly, that is... he is affectionate and kind. But nothing more,' a melancholic sigh jolted her chest. Draco watched her a little mockingly.

'What did you expect? I mean... passionate love is bullshit from fiction novels,' he said. Marion's smiling face appeared in his mind. She had been happy... until his father had taken the initiative. Or, at least, she'd said she was.

'I know that, Malfoy. However...' the girl blushed, as if she had been on the verge of saying something, but decided not to. She glanced worriedly and stood up, clearing the table. 'The others are waiting for you in the library. You exit from the kitchen and go back to the small room with the couch. Then you take the corridor to the right, and after the stairs, go through the glass door to the left. Not to the right or you'll find yourself outside.'

Draco was seriously thinking of getting lost on purpose, but then he changed his mind. With a maroon robe and a black cape, wearing slippers and without money in his pocket he'd not have gone far, in any case.

He followed Ginny's instructions, and he again found himself in enormity. The walls were filled with books of every kind. Some were the typical books of Wizards, old-looking and covered with dust. Others seemed Muggle. Surely Granger was not fastidious; she was attached to anything that was made of paper and had printed words all over it. There were also piles and piles of newspapers, every kind and in various languages.

'Finally, you woke up, Malfoy,' emphasized a voice to his left.

Draco turned in the direction of the sound, and saw a pair of brown eyes that looked at him. After reflecting for a moment on who it could be, Draco decided the person was none other than Sirius Black. He stared at the man in unbelief -- as far as he knew, Sirius was dead many years before. What was he doing there? But he had seen his photo so many times in the newspapers that he could hardly be wrong. What had happened? He decided to investigate later.

'Yeah. Seems I've slept a lot,' he answered, trying to keep his voice dry. Draco looked around, a little intimidated by the incredible mass of books that the room contained. In one of the lateral wings of the library he saw a person carrying a pile taller than she was. The person approached quickly along the table where Sirius was sitting and put down her heavy cargo. When he finally could see her face, Draco noticed that it was Hermione.

'Oh, finally the sleeping beauty from the couch considers us worthy of his presence,' she said mockingly.

'I've told you, Hermione, he only woke up a while ago,' Harry said loudly. Draco saw that Harry was standing on the stairs reading a heavy and dusty volume.

'What do you intend to do with him? You've had some time to think,' she said. Draco cleared his throat � he didn't like to be talked about as if he wasn't present. And moreover...

'Potter won't decide for me,' he burst dryly. Hermione glared at him with an air of tolerance.

'True. But he had the great idea of bringing you here, he has saved your life... in short, he's done everything. So, I think that he can also establish if you can stay here or not.'

'As for me, he can stay. I've said it plenty of times.'

'And then, if he were indeed a spy?' Hermione continued. Harry raised his sight to the ceiling. Probably the girl had placed this objection several times, in as many days.

'I think that we'll find out soon enough if he's a spy or not,' Sirius said, closing the book he'd been reading. 'By now the game is made. Even if we made him go away he'd know where to find us. It's also useless to do a memory charm,' he continued seeing that Hermione wanted to speak again. 'I remind you that these childish games have no use with Voldemort.'

'Ok Sirius, I've understood.' said Hermione. Draco got his eyes wide after hearing the confirmation that his suspicions were correct -- that man was indeed Sirius Black. But he had to recover from the shock quickly, because Hermione looked at him, very seriously, 'So... d'you want to stay?' she asked.

'I don't have much of a choice,' he reflected. Thinking coldly, he didn't have any intention of continuing that life. After all, even if he'd have had to share the house with Potter, Granger and the Weasleys, to be there was better than going from a Muggle hotel to another, risking to receive a Dementor's Kiss every evening.

'You're ready to swear not to betray to us?' Hermione asked while her eyes became small slits on her face. 'I don't know if I would believe such an oath, but� an oath is an oath, after all.' Draco slammed a hand on the table; his grey-blue eyes flaming with anger.

'I may also swear on the name of Malfoy if you want,' he drawled, annoyed. How did she dare, a poor Mudblood like her, still doubt his word? 'If it can help you to feel better, I mean. Someone saved my life, you know. It annoys me to admit it and also to remember it. But it's a fact, unfortunately.' He sat on a nearby chair and chose a comfortable position, crossing his legs and supporting his hands to his chest.

'Very good,' said Sirius. Harry appeared on Draco's side, resting three books on the table and sat next to him. 'Since you have decided to remain here, I believe that we need to establish some rules. In the first place, you'll have to clean up your act.' At that, Harry and Hermione smirked, and that greatly annoyed Draco.

'What do you mean, Black?' Draco said and sat more decorously, supporting his elbows on the table and his right jaw on the back of his right hand.

'I mean that you won't behave like if all were due to you. You will do your part of job and you won't insult the others.' Sirius stopped and smiled lightly when he noticed that the boy was sneering. 'I shan't compromise on this point, Malfoy. I remind you that if anyone here lose their patience with you, we'd not hesitate to give you your jacket and toss you back outside. After all, we'd have only to find another hiding place � it's not something that makes us smile, but it's not impossible.' Sirius's eyes turned towards Hermione while he emphasized anyone.

'I'll try my best, but it depends on the situation.' He noticed that his three companions stared at him a little incredulous. 'I mean... I won't insult you if you won't insult me. And I'm the one who shan't compromise on this! It will be difficult to hold my tongue. So, if you won't hassle me, everybody will be happier.'

'It seems fair to me,' Sirius looked seriously at Harry then Hermione, stopping a little longer on the girl. Then he eyed Draco. 'In second place, Malfoy, you must swear not to betray us.'

'As I've said, I swear also on the name of Malfoy. Honour is the only thing that I've left, after all,' he said, seriously.

'Well. We'll try to believe you.' Sirius observed Hermione with the corner of his eye. The girl had an annoyed look, then agreed, a little grudgingly. 'There's another thing, Malfoy,' he continued. Draco watched, with a questioning look. 'You must learn to defend yourself from the Dementors. This house is not shielded. If you continue as badly as the past few days every time that they pass along here, someone might discover us.'

'I can't promise to succeed, Black, but I'll try my best.' Draco was serious. He wanted indeed to learn how to defend himself from those monsters. He didn't want to see again Marion's death. His heart bled, every time, and he couldn't show himself as a weak person in front of Potter and the Mudblood. Ah no... Granger.

'Very well, it seems to me that we're finished here. If you don't violate these rules you will always be welcome here. Now, take a book and begin to work.' Draco looked at Sirius as if he was crazy. What did he have to do?

'Sirius, you forget that Malfoy doesn't know what we do here,' Harry reminded him. 'Unless he has psychic powers...'

'...which is impossible, given the look on his face a moment ago,' said Hermione. Draco observed her with hatred, but refrained from speaking his mind. Perhaps... I am worrying too much. Perhaps they are right, she thought a little relieved. Since Draco came to that house, she'd always been tense and hadn't slept well.

From the very beginning, she had thought about his critical condition. Even if it was Malfoy... he was also a human being. And she had assumed the responsibility to cure him. If he had died, she never would've forgiven herself. Then, fortunately, he got well, but the restlessness didn't go away. She decided that it had to be a matter of apprehension. She didn't trust anything the boy said.

Hermione explained, in the most concise possible way, the situation in which they found themselves. Two and a half years before, Harry�s scar was hurting badly. In little time it was discovered that Voldemort had not been destroyed in the battle that had caused the death of Headmistress McGonagall. The Death Eaters returned more powerful than before and the fear had re-insinuated itself in the Wizard World. Draco agreed - it was a story that he already knew well.

Lucius Malfoy had been the first one to be condemned again as a Death Eater. Cornelius Fudge didn't trust him any more since the day Voldemort came officially back. That time, Fudge had accepted his money and freed him from Azkaban; but Lucius had used an Unforgivable Curse and, few days after it, the Dark Mark had came back... this time no price could've been enough to save his life.

Panic had burst everywhere immediately after his execution. Narcissa went crazy for the fear and the humiliation, and was jailed in Azkaban. The Wizards' prison was now kept by a mutant form of Dementors... the ones which were going on the streets by now, magically forced to be obedient to the Ministry orders.

New deaths had recommenced to join the collection of the Dark Lord, who seemed to return, stronger than never. They had been forced to hide. Not because the public opinion, or the Ministry were against them. But because the Death Eaters were always looking for them and they didn't always expect the Ministry would protect them.

For months, they had hid between a wine cellar and a cove. She had had to renounce her studies and her new assignment; Ron to his career... that situation hadn't made them happy. But they couldn't avoid it, preferring to hide than to die.

When they had found that shelter, abandoned because it was dangerous, they resolved to keep it safe with some spells and they established their home. Finding tranquility again and a semblance of privacy, they decided to begin their research.

'Research of what kind?' interrupted Malfoy.

'We're trying to understand why the Green Torch didn't work as it was supposed to. Better yet... Why it has not worked at all. That object was supposed to destroy Voldemort, not knock him out for a few years.' Harry answered. 'All the books that you see here have been supplied by the Ministry and several libraries. The newspapers have been piled up for a few years, we've not thrown anything away,' he explained.

'And in two years what conclusion you've arrived at?'

'We didn't find any, unfortunately.' Harry sighed and opened one of the books, turning the pages absently. 'It seems that there's nothing to explain quite what the Green Torch is. The only person who could have helped us is... unreacheable.'

He refers to Dumbledore, of course. Draco thought. The old Headmaster of Hogwarts had never found his sympathy, but the boy knew very well that, with respect to the Ancient Magic, he was the best one. He had vanished in unknown circumstances -- his loss had been a relief for the Dark Lord, who feared him, and also for Lucius himself.

His father... there was something that didn't ring true. It was something that Draco felt he had to remember... although he strained to do so, and it didn't seem to want to be uncovered.

'And I, what do I have to do?' he asked, trying to forget the horrible feeling that he had something important to say and couldn't remember it.

'Work with us.' Hermione handed him a few books from another part of the table. 'Look for any information on the Green Torch.'

'I'm not a book-worm like you, Mud... Granger,' Draco corrected clearing his voice. Hermione looked at him pointedly, but pretended not to have heard his insult. He corrected himself, after all; that was a step ahead.

'You think that being here going over these books and wasting my days is my ultimate goal?' she said, annoyed. 'I had a career, you know. I took care myself of the Department of International Magical Co-operation and I assure to you that it was much more edifying than breaking my back in this library, every day.' She saw that the boy observed her skeptically and shrugged. 'Studying still appeals to me. I miss the traveling and perhaps the International relations... but this is too difficult to understand for the likes of you.'

Draco glared at her for a long moment, then took one of the books and began to read.

Author's Note:
Chapter 3 is finished! What do you think of it? I hope that the story is interesting you. What do you think of how the chapter starts? Is it a dream? A vision? Is it the past? The future? Who those people are? Please tell me in the comments your opinion :)

Now I will reply to the comments written for chapter 2:

frecklegirl87: I'm happy that you will continue reading the story! :) The fic is written in my language, Italian. My friend Sneeky was so kind to translate for me the first three chapters. After chapter 3, though, she wasn't able any more to do it. So since next chapter, you will read my crappy English and not her translation ^^ I'm sorry!

dreamcatcher_3107: *blushes* oh my... thank you! I'm happy that you like my story so much ^_^ I hope that you will like even the new chapters :). And don't worry there's no problem wanting to see Draco changing. Unfortunately in canon he's not a pretty sight to behold, not because he's a baddie... but because he's a bidimensional baddie. I love JKR, but she didn't have to do that to me... in book 5 she completely forgot Draco, he didn't grew up... so I'm filling the holes with my imagination ;) I hope that you'll like even this chapter :)
As for Ron and Hermione getting married... even the most hard H/Hr shippers I know told me that maybe something will happen between Ron and Hermione, but that it won't last long. Here... well, let's say that you'll see what it will happen, I won't be the one to ruin your surprise ;)

Ezmerelda: I'm sorry you had the flu :( I had it as well this August and I know it's not a nice thing :(. I hope that now you feel better and that you will keep reading this fic :).

Bye! Thank you to everybody for the nice comments!

Written by: Kagome-sama

Translated by: Kagome-sama (yes, me -.-;)

Beta-read by: Jess Thanks so much! *HUGS!*

Disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note:

I'd like to thank everybody for the nice reviews they wrote about my story. I'm not picky about feedback, feel free to write whatever you want. I don't bite and I'm always happy to read your opinions! :)

Note: This fic is written OotP-wise. Don't read it if you didn't read OotP!

They worked with the books all morning. Draco read three of them with attention, and read the summaries of five others trying to find something interesting. He began to understand the depression of the group.

'Damn, none of these even mention a Green Torch!' burst Draco closing the ninth volume of 'Magical Objects: Where to find them' and throwing it onto the table. He leaned heavily against the back of the chair, his arms straight and holding the bottom, hiding one big yawn.

'In truth, the Green Torch is pointed out in a couple of books, but only as the weapon that Harry used to destroy You-Know-Who,' Ginny said entering the wide room and sitting next to Harry. He handed her a couple of books which she diligently started to leaf through.

'Yes, we all know how well that worked out last time,' Draco drawled sarcastically, getting up from the chair and approaching the wide bookcase. Harry sighed, a little uneasily.

'At least it did for a while,' burst out Ginny again, putting her hand on Harry's shoulder. The boy rested his right hand on hers and squeezed it.

'But was it worth it for a few years of illusion?'

Nobody answered. He guessed that he had asked a question which nobody could answer without hurting Harry's feelings.

Hermione closed the book she was reading and stretched, tired. Ginny seemed to frown for a moment, all eyes turned to look at her.

'Look here... it talks about a kind of Torch,' she said, a little excited. But her excitement was immediately extinguished. 'Ah no... it's only a game for magicians!' Five people snorted. Hermione got up.

'I'd better go check on the roast,' she announced.

'I turned it five minutes ago and turned down the oven,' Ginny answered. 'We'll have to wait for Ron to return; according to the Clock he is still rather far away. You know it's impossible to Apparate during the day with Muggles everywhere'.

'I told Ron that it was a really bad idea to go find the others, but not much has changed since the beginning of the year and someone had to go present our wishes to them. There's no point dwelling on it,' said Hermione staring at the chair, reluctantly. However, she walked towards the entrance. 'I'm going to go see where Ron is. Maybe he has gotten closer while we were talking.'

Draco looked attentively at the longest row of books that was spread across the wall. While his eyes were on a volume that seemed to have some interest, he saw the contours of the bookcase unexpectedly start to vanish. He blinked a few times but his vision didn't clear. Then he noticed that a shelf had been added.

'It seems that the Ministry has found more materials for us; as if the rubbish they've sent us already wasn't enough. Useless books on which we are losing our eyesight every day...' commented Harry noticing that two other shelves had appeared.

Draco observed it, sceptically, and started to look again. There were books of black magic and some volumes that he had caught a glimpse of in the Restricted Section in the library at Hogwarts.

'Isn't the location of this place meant to be secret?'

'It's super secret, in fact.' Sirius answered. 'Only Remus knows where to find us. Now, he's working at the Ministry in order to make it easy for us to get these books. And, Harry, they are not rubbish.'

'They may not be rubbish, perhaps, but it's true that they are useless. For two years we have continued to leaf through them day after day, never finding anything more than some bit about the Battle of seventh year... or some game of prestige.' He glanced at Ginny, she sighed.

'Maybe you have been looking for it in the wrong way.' reflected Draco while examining the contents of the library.

'How exactly should we have been looking for it then, Your Lordship?' roared Harry. Sirius gave Harry a strict glance. 'I mean... what do you think we could have done differently?' He reddened and lowered his sight.

'Nervous, huh?' Draco sneered. This was beginning to amuse him—avoiding insulting them had its advantages. 'It happens that I haven't spent the last two years working in this place, as some of you have emphasized before. I don't know the type of searches you have carried out. Here I see that there's everything, even a few forbidden volumes. You probably just haven't tried the right sort of book yet,' he drawled. Harry rose from the chair, annoyed, and approached Draco. He grabbed Draco's shoulder and forced him to turn.

'Look there,' Harry snapped, pointing to the other side of the library and showing Draco an enormous book-case, filled with hundreds of volumes. 'D'you know what those are? They're all the books that we've read over the last two years. There's quite a few, aren't there?' He released Draco and went back to his seat. Draco massaged his shoulder and sneered at Harry, but was truly impressed. The bookcase covered the length of the wall and extended all the way up to the ceiling which was three times higher than normal.

Draco went to the other side of the big room, trying to find something more interesting to read. In the end, he sat on the floor with his legs crossed, and looked through some books which he remembered seeing in the Restricted Section of the library at Hogwarts.

Damn. There's something I should remember… why do I have this horrible feeling? He thought as he skimmed through the pages of the volume that he had in his hands. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't lose the bad feeling. The books he was scanning talked about a completely different subject to the one that he was looking for. So he put them back in their places and got up, cleaning the dust from his robe and going a bit further.

'I'll go check on the roast,' said Ginny, standing up from her chair and walking out of the library. Harry watched her leave as he closed one of the books that he was checking and picked up a new one.

'There are also school books about how to use Tarot Cards,' Draco said, amazed by the detail, 'why did the Ministry think they would be important?'

'I have no idea,' replied Sirius, giving him a quick glance while skimming another volume, a Muggle one, 'there's only one way you can be sure—checking its content,' he said. Draco sighed and started to read it, but it didn't have more information than what he already knew. No, it didn't talk about a Torch.

He leafed through another two or three books, until he saw Hermione coming back to the library, tying her hair in a pony tail and approaching him in order to take some other books to read. She picked up another pile which was taller than she was and went back to her seat, starting to read.

Every hour seemed to last an eternity that day. Draco had become accustomed to spending every moment of his time looking over his shoulder and being in constant movement. He found that he just couldn't concentrate on reading and was quickly growing bored. Finally, they heard the sound of footsteps in the Hall and someone came into the library.

'Ron! You're back at last!' exclaimed Hermione, throwing the book that she had been reading onto the table. She stood up and ran towards him, 'How was your trip?' she asked, hugging him and kissing him softly on the lips.

'I would've been back earlier if I could've Apparated, but there were too many Muggles on the streets, and I didn't want to take the risk,' he replied, hugging her back and answering her kiss with evident joy.

Hermione cleaned the soot off his nose and began brushing the ashes off his cloak. It was obvious which method he had used to make his trip.

'Fred and George said that they'd prefer to stay at the Burrow for a while. Mum isn't feeling well and she needs help. So… oh, he's awake,' Ron said. He had just noticed that Draco was approaching, from the other side of the library.

'Yes, he promised to clean up his act and Sirius gave him permission to stay,' Hermione replied. She leaned closer and whispered something else into Ron's ear.

'Malfoy,' said Ron, as Draco finally reached them and sat down. Ron was staring at him as if he had something funny painted on his face, and this really annoyed him.

'What d'you want?' asked Draco, dryly, while skimming through another book.

'I daresay that colour of maroon suits you better than me.' Both Harry and Hermione smirked at this.

'Of course it does,' Draco replied without batting an eyelash and staring at the red-haired boy with sarcasm. Ron stared back horrified, and his ears turned pink, 'I think that you'll find that most things suit me better than you.'

'Malfoy!' Ron looked ready to hit Draco.

SMASH!

Sirius slammed a book onto the table and said, eyeing the red-haired boy sharply, 'Ron, shut up and calm down, please. You were the one to annoy him first, after all.'

'I did not—' started Ron. Then he looked at Sirius for a long moment, and had to lower his glance, not daring to keep eye-contact with him, 'Well, maybe… maybe yes, I was provoking him… but… you know, it was strange to see Malfoy wearing my clothes.'

'It was me who gave your clothes to Malfoy, Ron,' said a voice from outside the library. Ginny came into the wide room, carrying a tray with some tea. 'His Muggle clothes were far too dirty and worn out for me to fix them. Welcome back, by the way. How's Mum doing?' said the girl, hugging him tenderly with a single arm and then going back to her seat and resting the tray on the table.

'She's not well. She's never recovered from the shock of Dad's death, and I don't think that she ever will.' Ron sighed, and Ginny eyed him, worried. 'Fred and George are staying there with her. They didn't even want to joke today… it gives me the creeps.'

'Maybe I should go to the Burrow, I could take care of her,' mused Ginny.

'You'd just put the Burrow and everybody there in danger,' replied Harry, staring at her sadly. 'Molly is more than a mother to me. You know that I feel horrible because she's not well, but I know that I can't go there either.'

'Damn those bloody Death Eaters!' Ginny swore, sniffing. She felt so powerless…

Ginny sighed, tiredly, as she unbuttoned the top part of her robe. As always, they had spent almost all day reading those books, trying to find a solution for what still looked like a complete enigma. She was used to that—after all they had been looking for information for over two years now. However…

'Are you all right, love?' asked Harry as he put on his pyjamas. She glared at him before nodding in reply.

Damn, if you can't give that word its true meaning, don't use it! She thought, annoyed. She was tired, tired of waiting. Once, she would've been happy with a situation of this sort. In truth, she really had been happy about it, at first… until that day, the year before.

'Are you worried about Molly? I know you want to go to the Burrow, I'd want to go there too.' Harry approached her from behind, her robe fell to the floor. He hugged her, gently, and gave her a soft kiss on her collarbone. She stood on her tip toes, pushing herself against his chest with all her strength and he accepted the invitation. Harry's hands ran up her body, reaching her breast as his lips started to draw a line of light kisses up to her jaw.

Ginny allowed herself a little sigh when he nibbled at her right earlobe. Yes, it was just what she needed, to not think of anything. She turned back to him, sinking her fingers into his hair and smiling. She saw the desire in his green eyes… it was clearly evident. She decided that, for the moment at least, it was enough.

With a gentle push, Harry made her lay down on the bed, and was immediately over her. She loved the weight of the boy's body over hers; it made her feel complete and happy as he kissed her everywhere. It lulled her, for a moment, into the illusion that she was the only subject of his thoughts. She felt a shiver as he tickled the sole of her foot, and she barely hid a giggle. Then, she pushed him onto the other side of the bed, placing herself on top of him.

'Tonight leave everything to me,' she murmured into his ear, kissing him.

'Ok…' was the last coherent thing that he was able to say.

She woke up with the horrid feeling that something was strange. She lazily stretched her legs and arms, and then started gazing around herself, trying to understand what was happening. The room was hidden in the darkness of the night, the only things that lighted up the contours of the objects and her surroundings were the soft light of the street-lamps and the moon outside. It only took her a moment to understand what was giving her that bad feeling—Harry was groaning in his dreams, hugging her.

'Harry? Harry, what is it?' she said, shaking him to wake him up. It didn't help, though. 'Harry? What's happening to you? Can you hear me? Please wake up!' She shook him so hard that in the end he opened his eyes, in shock. He stared at her without really seeing her, his widened eyes were dull, not really gazing at hers. Fighting to keep control of herself, she slapped him twice. Suddenly, he regained his senses.

'Huh,' he said, standing up and putting a hand over his face.

'Is that the only thing you're able to say?' she asked, still shocked.

'Merlin, you hit hard—' he retorted, looking for his glasses on the bedside table, and fumbling them into place on his nose. Then, he gazed at her with relief, and smiled. 'Thank you, Gin. A Dementor was around and I couldn't protect myself while I was sleeping.'

'You scared me to death,' she said; her heart still thudding in her chest. She still was out of breath, her hands were trembling and she felt as if her fingers were made of ice.

'Sorry… I didn't mean to.' He hugged her and Ginny forgot about the cold. They plunged into the bed and stayed linked together for a while. Then, she felt him shivering and reluctantly broke their hug, getting up on her side of the bed. She looked for her dressing-gown and put it on, setting out to leave.

'Where are you going?'

'To the kitchen, to get some chocolate for you and a glass of water for myself.' She stroked his arm softly, trying to calm and reassure him, 'I'll be back,' she murmured, and stood up.

She groped her way out the room that she knew by memory by now, and found herself in the corridor. She turned left, starting to walk down on the steps. She was walking through the wide hall of the palace, when she heard a noise. She made her way into the small room before the kitchen. Someone was groaning painfully, exactly as Harry had, few minutes ago.

It took a moment for her to remember that Draco was still sleeping on the couch. Damn, the Dementors are giving him trouble as well, she thought. She ran into the room, approached the couch and took her wand out of her dressing-gown pocket.

'Lumos! ' she said. The point of her wand lighted up and she put it on the coffee table, using it to light the room. Draco was moaning and tossing in the sleep, sweating hard and shuddering a lot.

'Malfoy? Malfoy?' she shook him, but it didn't help. 'Malfoy, wake up!' She tried shaking him again, even harder than she had shaken Harry, but he still didn't wake. She slapped him, with all her strength… but only succeeded in hurting her hand.

'MALFOY! DO YOU HEAR ME? PLEASE WAKE UP!' she shouted. Draco opened his eyes.

'Marion,' he murmured, sitting up to hold her strongly. Ginny felt as if she was going to choke—she had to do something, or he'd probably squash her.

'MALFOY! You're hurting me, please let go of me—' she tried to wriggle out from his grasp, but escape was a very hard thing to obtain. She tried not to panic and think of a way to make him let go. Once, a long time ago, Harry had done a similar thing. She had carried the signs of his hold for a full week afterwards.

'Marion, NO!'

'MALFOY, I AM NOT MARION, PLEASE WAKE UP!' she shouted into his ear, wriggling against him yet again.

Suddenly, Draco calmed down and jerked, as if somebody caught him doing a forbidden thing. He released her from the hug and put his hands on her shoulders. He stared around himself, his eyes—which normally were pale—now seemed to be liquid, almost dark in the shadows.

'What—' he muttered. When his eyes finally reached Ginny's face, he stared at her, frowning, 'what are you doing here, Weasley?' he asked, removing his hands straight away from her shoulders, as if they were made on fire.

'I came here to take a glass of water and a piece of chocolate,' she said, massaging her arms where Draco had gripped her, and standing up. 'A Dementor was nearby. Harry was sick as well; I saw that you were having trouble so I tried to wake you up.' Something very close to a blush appeared on Draco's face. Ginny smiled,

'What did I say?' he asked, glancing at her a bit uneasily. It was… as if he was frightened by what he might have said. Ginny wanted to know why.

'You called me Marion,' she said, as Draco's face turned as white as a sheet and his eyes widened dramatically. He put one of his hands on his forehead and shook his head.

'Bloody hell,' he muttered, yawning. His other hand was trembling over his leg.

'Who's Marion?' Ginny asked. He turned to stare at her, frowning, and took breath to talk; but he stayed silent, for a long moment, before replying,

'It's none of your business, Weasley.'

He lay down on the couch once again and turned his back to her, trying to ignore her. Ginny waited for a moment, to see if he'd change his mind, but she then understood that it was useless and stood up.

'Nox!' she said, picking up her wand from the coffee table and putting it back in her pocket. The light turned off and Ginny walked straight to the kitchen.

Damn, I have to learn to control myself when a Dementor passes by. I can't allow them to find out… thought Draco, equally sad and angry at the same time. He didn't want to show himself as weak, he couldn't show his weakness in front of the people who he had made fun of for seven years.

When he heard that the girl had left the room, he turned to the other side of the couch and put an arm under his pillow, trying to find a more comfortable position. It wasn't easy, as his teeth were still chattering; but he didn't feel like getting up and going to look for a piece of chocolate in a kitchen that he didn't know. He tried to forced himself not to tremble—it wasn't easy, but he had to try. Suddenly, he saw a shadow getting closer to him and sitting down on the edge of the couch. He was startled; he hadn't noticed its approach.

'Here.' It was Ginny, once again. Draco stretched a hand towards the one the girl was holding out to him and took something. A piece of chocolate, of course. He sat next to her and bit into it.

'Thank you,' he drawled. Ginny felt her eyes widen from the shock of hearing that word. Draco seemed to think a lot about what was he going to say. He finished eating his chocolate and then looked directly into her eyes. Now used to the darkness, they could see each other by the gleam of light that came into the room from the shutters. 'And… I'm sorry… for what I did before,' he muttered and, immediately after it, tore his glance from hers and lay down quickly, turning his back to her.

Ginny was shocked. Did Draco Malfoy just… apologize? It was worth living just to have such an experience!

'Who's Marion?' she was able to ask, after few seconds. Perhaps now he would decide to talk a bit, and she was sincerely curious.

'I apologized, but this doesn't mean that I want to talk about it,' he retorted, dryly. Ginny sighed and stood up, setting out to leave.

'Weasley?' Draco muttered from his couch. She froze and turned back, waiting for him to continue. 'You… didn't see me, tonight,' he said, not daring to turn. She pondered a bit about it before replying,

'Maybe,' she said, then she turned around and left, going back to the room that she shared with Harry.

Author's note:

Here we are, chapter 4 is finished!

I apologize for how long it took me to translate it, but unfortunately Sneeky had a lot of things to do, and she wasn't able to finish her translation. In the end she gave up… so I've had to finish the translation by myself, and I will need to continue the translation for the next chapters. So… I'm sorry if the English doesn't seem as good as before, but unfortunately I can't help it, I did my best to translate it well :(

I hope that you will like this chapter! I suppose you are curious, now, to know what happened to Ginny one year ago… of course you'll find out… later! >:)

Now let's reply to my reviews :)

Ezmeralda: Hmmmmm yes, it's the past... but I cannot say more. Actually Hermione doesn't trust Draco at all, right now. She was feeling uneasy even because she didn't want him to die because he was under her responsibility, and still a human being. Of course all this speech is valid right now :). As for Ginny... I think she blushed because she said things that she didn't want Draco to know. After all if she likes Harry or not is none of Draco's business, right? Ginny doesn't want Draco to know that she and Harry have problems. Even because she doesn't like the reason why they have problems. Of course even all this speech is thought right now :). Thanks for the review!

Rea Yume: Thank you for the review. Uhm... yes, the dream was in the past. But... I didn't tell that they were their ancestrors. It's not really history repeating then... you'll find out ^^ err... someday ^^; I hope you will still be here when we'll get the point!

dreamcatcher_3107: My... *Kagome feels her face like a tomato* You made me blush to cause Ginny shame ;) thank you! I'm happy that you're liking the story and I'm happy that you think the characters are IC. It's a thing that makes me proud :) above all if it's Malfoy who's IC. As for the ships... heeee you'll see =). And don't worry about your post being long. I love long reviews ^^ I always write HUUUUGE reviews, because I express all my feelings and thoughts about the fic I read. It's very rare if I don't have anything to say other than a "wow" or an "Ew!"... or very, very rare the cases where I really can't say anything at all :) I always try to give concrit and also express to the author what I liked in the fic. So, your comments are highly appreciated. I prefer long reviews (even if I appreciate even just a "good" than the silence ^^)

sexybabehp17: Yes, I know what do you mean :) If I'd met a Draco-like person in RL I'd have hated him to death, more like Harry than other. But... I love Draco for his complexity, even if he's an one-dimensional character in canon... and this is really funny! I'd love JKR gave him more depht... but she actually was able to give hints of what Draco really could be even without devellopping him. This is astouning from a writer ;) but she's JKR, after all ;). I hope that you'll like this new installment!

Thank you all for the review! I hope that you will write a review for this chapter as well. Don't worry if you didn't review the other chapters: it's still lovely to read a new reviewer^^ it means that people read the story and it meas that the new chapter caught more attention to the people who didn't review the last one. This makes me happy :).

Waiting for her reviews ^^

Written by: Kagome-sama

Translated by: Kagome-sama (yes, me -.-;)

Beta-read by: Jess and TeaWithVoldy Thanks so much! *HUGS!*

Disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note:

I'd like to thank everybody for the nice reviews they wrote about my story. I'm not picky about feedback, feel free to write whatever you want. I don't bite and I'm always happy to read your opinions! :)

Note: This fic is written OotP-wise. Don't read it if you didn't read OotP!

A delicious smell woke Draco up and made his stomach growl, reminding him how hungry he was. He stretched his arms and legs lazily as he looked around. Nothing had changed since the day before… however…

He stood up and thought about having to wear Ron's clothes again. He didn't like them at all; it wasn't that they didn't fit him well enough, but rather that his pride couldn't stand them. He decided that he'd need to go buy some new ones, but the very thought of going back to Diagon Alley gave him the creeps. Fortunately, it was very unlikely that anyone would've recognised him last time. After all, who would've suspected that the filthy vagrant that he had resembled was actually one of the richest men in the country.

He put on the warm maroon jumper and robes, which was also made in the same sickening colour. What taste do you have, Weasley? he thought, quite disgusted. He then finished tying up his shoelaces and went straight to the kitchen, settling his hair in order with his hands; these days he spent very little time on his appearance, having more important things to think about. Right now his most urgent desire was to find something to eat. Draco was absolutely starving — of course, sleeping very close to the kitchen didn't help.

'Morning, Malfoy. You're definitely up early,' Ginny's joyful voice called to him from the distance. The girl was busy preparing the meal and she didn't bother to turn around.

'Seems like you're an even earlier riser than me, Weasley. The smell of your cooking woke me up,' he said, trying to be polite. He still remembered what he had done the night before, and he was still ashamed of himself. He had shown his weakness… in front of a Weasley. He'd never forgive himself for that.

'Oh, if you're hungry, the eggs and the bacon are on the stove. You can lay the table and have your breakfast,' she ordered, still preparing the meal and talking to him without looking at him. Draco decided that he would try to do it himself; if he had to wait any longer for Weasley to do it for him, he was sure that his stomach would begin to cramp. He approached the stove and put two eggs and some bacon onto a plate.

'No House Elves, huh?' he muttered, annoyed. Hearing that, Ginny raised her sight from the meal, and stared at him in surprise.

'Not here, Malfoy. Firstly, we don't have enough money to have one.' She noticed that Draco was sighing at her words, and kept talking, quickly, 'Secondly, Hermione would never agree to it.'

Draco rolled his eyes and Ginny smiled, watching him walk away from the stove with a plate in his hands and seating himself down at the table. As she had now finished preparing the meal, she decided to be kind and make him an orange-squash. After giving it to him, Ginny wiped her hands on her apron, and sighed.

'I'll have to go buy some stuff today. My wand's pretty dirty and I'll need to go to Diagon Alley as well,' she said to herself. Draco's interest in her speech grew when she said the last phrase.

'I'll come with you then,' he said sharply; it seemed more like an order than a request, and this annoyed Ginny.

'Says who?' she retorted, glaring at him.

'I do,' was his curt reply. They stared at each other, both determined not to be the first to look away. But eventually Ginny lowered her gaze and Draco smiled. 'It's not like I'm looking forward to going out with you either, Weasley. Still, I need to buy some new clothes and I've got go to Gringotts. And…' he stopped for a moment to drink some of his orange-squash. Then he stayed silent, not willing to say any more.

'And…,' she prompted.

'I have to go somewhere else,' Draco replied, trying to look very interested in his eggs.

'I'm afraid I'll have to follow you,' she said as she ordered the plates to wash themselves with her wand. 'You're still a wanted criminal you know.'

'That's the whole reason why I should go alone. There's nothing more conspicuous than a Weasley out shopping.'

'We can't let you go to Diagon Alley by yourself.' A voice said from behind them. Draco turned and saw Harry who still looked half asleep. His hair was even messier than usual and he was wearing blue robes with purple decorations. The hems softly touching his dark shoes. 'Don't misunderstand me. We do trust your oath… I'm pretty sure that you won't say anything ... willingly. I'm trying to trust you. However…,' Harry trailed off as he got himself some breakfast and sat down next to him at the table. 'However ... Voldemort knows how to wring the information out of you, so that's why we just can't risk it.'

'What d'you want to do then, are you all going to come with me?' Draco hardly hid a laugh, 'I'm sorry to have to point this out to you, Potter, but I don't reckon that Weasley would be that useful against the Dark Lord, if he finds us. Or… maybe you want to keep me tight on your leash?' he drawled, glaring at the Boy-Who-Lived. They stared at each other, exchanging glares of pure and utter loathing. Seeing that this was going nowhere, Ginny cleared her throat.

'Whatever you want to think, Malfoy, I'm going to follow you everywhere you go, and that's final.' She took off her apron and clapped her hands together to clean them. Then she hurried off towards the door, 'I'm going to get ready. Harry, please tell Hermione that everything's almost done, she just have to put the pots on the stove and keep an eye on them.'

She was about to leave the room, when she stopped for a moment and turned around again. 'If you want to come with me, be sure to be ready in half an hour. We've go to leave early to avoid the tonnes of Muggles who are always around for the morning peak hour traffic,' she told Draco. Then she left, leaving the two boys speechless.

'I doubt anyone could recognise me if they tried,' huffed Draco, brushing off the soot from his clothes. Ginny cleaned his face and ruffled his hair, which he tried to set back in order a moment later, making it look even worse. She tossed him the hat that he had to wear as part of his disguise. Draco was still cleaning his clothes and muttering about how much he hated Floo powder when Tom, the innkeeper, appeared behind the bar, glancing at them with curiosity in his eyes.

'Oh, I thought that I heard voices over here,' he said. 'Let's see… good morning, Miss Weasley. Who's your comp—?' Tom shut up suddenly as Draco glared at him. The innekeeper froze, eyes wide, and immediately took his handkerchief out his pocket and wiped away the sweat from his forehead. He opened the side door of the bar and approached them.

'Merlin's beard… I thought you were dead, or kissed by a Dementor,' he hissed under his breath, showing an expression of surprise.

'I'm sorry I disappointed you,' retorted Draco. His face showed nothing but confidence, but in reality his heart was thudding loudly in his chest. So, there were still people who could recognize him, even dressed like that. Damn… 'If it makes you feel better though, you were nearly right.'

'My boy, I can't say that I liked your father. However, you're not your father, Mr. Malfoy, are you?' As he said that, a flash of pure loathing appeared in Draco's eyes. This scared Tom to death and his face turned as pale as a sheet. 'Oh… err… I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy… I… didn't mean to offend…,' the man started to stammer and mutter aloud. Ginny put a hand on his shoulder and beckoned for him to shut up.

'Tom, we don't want anybody else to notice us. You know, he's wanted by the Ministry… so… can you please let us leave and not say anything else? We're in a bit of a hurry.' He stared at her very seriously as she said these words. Tom picked up his handkerchief again and wiped at the sweat drops which were forming on his forehead again. 'Of course, Tom… you can understand that…'

'O-of course. Of course Miss Weasley. Of course, I-I came over here because… I saw a… mouse. Yes, I'm trying to kill that bloody mouse, yes!' said Tom, trying to not stare at Draco as he grabbed a poker from the side of the fire. Draco sneered and put on his hat, sending Tom a glare which turned the innkeeper's blood to ice. It was much too similar to Lucius's one for comfort.

Then, Draco grabbed Ginny's arm and walked straight towards the door on the other side of the room. Ginny just had time to hide her hair under her hat to stare reprovingly at him as they exited the inn and found themselves in front of the wall. A few moments later, they were walking amongst the crowd of witches and wizards that filled Diagon Alley. Only then did Draco let go of her arm, and Ginny kept watching him with narrowed eyes, shocked by his behaviour.

'Malfoy… was it really necessary to grab my arm and run away like that?' she asked, hurrying after him, not wanting to lose him in the crowd. All around them children were running from one shop to another, yelling and giggling about the window displays. One of them bumped into her, causing her to stumble, and she had to quicken her pace in order to catch up with Draco again.

'If I hadn't done that, you would've stayed there all day chatting with that bloody git. Moreover, please stop calling me that, it's dangerous.' He replied, glaring at yet another boy who crossed the road and stopped in front of a shop-window, sticking his tongue out at them.

'What should I call you then? And where are you going at this speed?' she asked, already out of breath. She was doing her best to keep up with his pace, but she couldn't maintain this speed for long and she didn't want anybody to notice—they already had enough problems without people staring at them.

'Call me Dray. Where d'you think I'm going? To Gringotts!' he said, dryly. Then he stopped for a moment and span around stopping Ginny in her tracks. 'I warn you, Weasley, you've permission to call me by that name, only in this situation.'

'Fine. But you have to call me Ginny.' She glanced back at him, very seriously, 'and… please go slower, Mal… err… Dray.'

'Ok, ok,' he said, resuming his walk but lowering his speed. A few minutes later they were in front of the huge, white, high building that had been used as the Wizard's bank for centuries.

They climbed up the stairs and opened the door, crossing the white and black marble floors, which were shining as usual. Draco hurried up a bit as few goblins stopped to avoid bumping into them.

Draco looked around, experiencing the wonderful feeling of finally being at home. Gringotts was always the same—the Wizarding World could change as much as it wanted, but not Gringotts. You could breathe a different, almost ancient air in these enormous rooms.

They approached a free goblin, who was counting money. Reluctantly, the creature tore his sight away from the gittering gold and blinked at them as Draco cleared his throat.

'Good Morning. How may I help you?' he asked with an oily tone, rubbing his long and slim fingers together.

'I want to take some money out vault five hundred and thirty,' Draco replied, under his breath, staring around suspiciously. He took a key out his pocket—he had retrieved it from his old Muggle clothes that morning. The goblin inspected it carefully, then he stared once again at the boy and his companion.

'Everything seems to be in order. I will have someone take you two to the vault.' 'Dokidook!' he called, addressing another goblin who was standing nearby. He then instructed him to take them to vault five hundred and thirty. The new goblin bowed respectfully and beckoned Draco and Ginny to follow him.

They descended to the dungeons of the bank and, when they arrived at the front door of the right vault, the trolley stopped. The goblin let them get out and he took his time to open the door.

When they finally entered the vault, Ginny's eyes widened in amazement. It was the largest vault that she had ever seen. It contained hundreds, no… thousands of gold and silver pieces that had been meticulously stacked in neat piles. And that wasn't all. All around there were also paintings, frames, massive gold candelabra, documents that seemed ancient and important and jewels of varying sizes.

The girl tried not to let Draco notice her astonishment, but it wasn't easy; her entire family could've lived for generations on only a small part of what the vault contained. However, Draco had clearly noticed her shock, he sneered at her as he filled his pockets. After that, the boy approached some other objects in the room, and carefully chose three of them, putting them into the pocket of his cloak.

'Fine. We can go now,' he said to the goblin, who showed them the exit. When he closed the door, the goblin immediately gave the key back to Draco, before stepping into the trolley again.

'Malfoy, what are those thing you took?' she asked, sincerely curious.

'It's none of your business, Weas -- er Ginny,' he snapped. They came out the dungeons, still upset from the quick trip, and made their way out of the bank.

'Good. Now, the second stage,' Draco muttered, starting once again to walk much too quickly. Ginny had to stop him once again to remind him that she couldn't walk that fast; he sighed and slowed down a bit.

But, suddenly, Ginny's heart sank as someone grabbed her shoulder. She turned around to see who it was and she met the accusing gaze of Cornelius Fudge. She felt the blood drain from her face.

'I thought I heard your voice, Miss Weasley. Or should I say… Mrs. Potter?' The Minister asked as his face moved into the grimace that he used when he wanted to appear cheerful. In reality, Ginny mused, it made him look like a smirking pig.

'Miss Weasley, thank you very much,' she replied, cooler than ever. She had been Harry's girlfriend for two years now, but she absolutely hated it when people assumed things like that.

'I see. Why are you here with a stranger?' the Minister asked, gazing at Draco with interest. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief—Fudge didn't recognize Draco, after all. She tried desperately to think of a plausible answer while Draco was still, few steps in front of her, attentively observing the contents of a shop-window.

'N-no… what are you saying… in truth… I…,' she stammered, her heart thumping madly in her chest. If Fudge suspected anything, not only Malfoy would be sent directly to Azkaban; they would all be in serious trouble for having assisted a wanted criminal.

'She was waiting for me,' said a voice, allowing Ginny's heart to calm down a bit. She was glad to see Remus Lupin's familiar face. Ginny gave him a brilliant smile. 'Please, Miss Weasley. If you keep smiling at me like that I'll certainly envy Harry Potter for my entire life!' They both laughed. Fudge stared at them suspiciously.

'I thought…' he said, eyeing Draco who kept staring at the window, shamming lack of interest.

'Who, Mr. Fudge? T-that man? Oh, I j-just asked him for the time…' she retorted, and finally the Minister seemed to believe her.

'Well, have a nice day, Miss Weasley. Give my respects to Mr. Potter. Lupin, I'll see you tomorrow at the Ministry,' he said, setting out to leave. He waved to her politely, nodded to Lupin and left. Even as he was leaving, he continued to stare at Draco until he disappeared into the white walls of Gringotts. They all gave a sigh of relief.

'What on earth were you thinking? Going for a walk in Diagon Alley! Thank Merlin Harry sent Hedwig to me and asked me to keep an eye on you two, it could've ended up worse!' hissed Lupin as he followed them down the street.

'I wanted to go alone. I told Potter it wasn't a good idea to come here with her, but he insisted,' Draco replied, still shocked.

Cornelius Fudge was the most stingy, stupid and annoying wizard he had ever met. While Lucius pleased him with huge donations to the Ministry of Magic, Fudge had been his best friend. But the second that he got the chance to ruin Lucius, he immediately took it. The first time, when he had sent his father to Azkaban at the end of their fifth year at Hogwarts, Lucius had succeeded in gaining his trust back with money. The second time, however, no price would've been high enough to save his life.

'You didn't have to come here, Malfoy. You're still wanted, after all,' said Lupin, breaking the thread of Draco's thoughts. He stared at the man as they approached Madam Malkin's shop. Then, he eyed the shop-window and decided that he ought to buy two of the robes that were shown there. He wouldn't have the chance to come back to the shop, so it was useless ordering new robes, risking the possibility that Madam Malkin would inform the ministry before he'd be back. He would have to take what was already available and be content with it. The green robe wasn't that bad and neither was the black one.

'I needed some decent clothes, and I had to go to some shops, Lupin. Now, please, give me the opportunity to buy my stuff before Fudge changes his mind,' Draco drawled, sending him a dry look and going into the shop, followed by Ginny.

Immediately, a short, friendly witch came closer, striding towards them. Then, she caught sight of their clothes and Ginny's hair and her smile died on her lips.

'Good Morning, sir and madam. Err… if you're looking for the second-hand robe shop you're in the wrong place. You need to go out and head towards Gringotts then—' she started to say. Ginny blushed to the roots of her hair. She couldn't blame Madam Malkin; she and her family never came into the shop. She had only had entered the shop to buy her Hogwarts uniform and one other time when she was with Harry. Madam Malkin's robes were astonishing… but her prices were astonishing as well. Thank goodness Lupin stayed outside the shop. She would've never lived down the embarrassment she was currently feeling.

'I'm not in the wrong place,' was Draco's curt reply. He glared at Madam Malkin with a severe and aristocratic glance, as he pulled his hat off. The witch froze, her face as white as a sheet.

'M-Mr. Malfoy… Merlin... I thought you were dead,' she muttered. Then she sat down on a chair close to her, until her face returned to its normal colour.

'Yes, you and the rest of the Wizarding world,' he replied, colder than before. The witch stood up from her chair and rubbed her hands, coming closer to him,

'I-I'm sorry for the terrible mistake. Bu-but I-I'm not used to—' she stammered, blushing. Draco approached one of the windows and beckoned for her to shut up.

'Please, don't waste my time. I want to try on those two robes in the shop-window, the green one and the black one.'

'But Mr. Malfoy! I'd never permit you to wear clothes that were not made exactly for your size… I…'

'I will repeat it one more time, and slowly. DO-NOT-WASTE-MY-TIME. You know perfectly well that I can't come back.' Draco's glance would've melted an iceberg.

Madam Malkin recoiled slightly. Then she breathed deeply and began taking down the robes from the window display for him to try on.

In the end, it turned out that they were too long for him, but Madam Malkin told him that her assistant would fix them while he was still there. Draco allowed it, but he forced the girl to work where he could see her, and to hurry up. Waiting for it, he bought various clothes to wear under his robes, including some black jumpers. He didn't want Madam Malkin to leave the shop either—he couldn't take the risk that she might call the Aurors.

In the meantime, Ginny pretended to have come into the shop to look for a present for Ron, and she asked the prices of the hats. When she saw that Draco had almost finished his purchases she made as if to leave. Draco played the role of the wanted criminal with her too, though, and he forced her to stay in the shop until he left—he really hoped that Madam Malkin wouldn't understand his trick.

The shopkeeper requested that a badge with the Malfoy crest was sewn onto his new cloak. Draco agreed, but only if the cloak could be made to be double-faced, so that he could wear it on the side without the badge showing, normally.

When he had finally changed his clothes and was ready to go, he said goodbye to Madam Malkin and went out of the shop wearing his new hat to hide his face. The witch bowed at him profusely, and this pissed him off. Why should he have been annoyed by the fact that somebody respected him more than Ginny? He didn't understand why, but his insides burned when he noticed that the witch didn't even consider Ginny worthy of a glance. Since when he did care about the feelings of a Weasley?

'Where are you going now?' asked Lupin, breaking Draco from his wondering thoughts for the second time that day. Ginny seemed to be relieved to be out the shop and, for once, Draco understood how she was feeling.

'I have to pay a visit to Ollivander's to clean up my wand. Then I'm going to go to the Eeylops Owl Emporium to buy some food for Hedwig. D'you want to follow us, Remus?' asked Ginny, smiling at her old professor.

'I'm afraid that I must go now,' replied Lupin, his glance following someone who was disappearing into the distance. 'Please try and not to get yourselves into trouble, ok?' he said as he watched them leave before he briskly set of in the opposite direction.

They were almost opposite Gringotts, when Draco suddenly grabbed hold off Ginny's arm and dragged her down a dark alley on the left hand side of the road. She was about to demand to know what the hell was going on when she bumped into a witch with a hooked nose and greasy hair who gave Ginny a very evil sneer. She barely managed to contain a terrified scream of fright.

Author's note:

This is the end of chapter 5 ^_^.

I'm evil, I know… leaving you with a cliffhanger of this sort! Has Draco gone crazy? Maybe his speeches of honour were only lies? Or… where did he go? You'll find out in the next chapter, of course >:)

Please review :)

Now, let's reply to the nice people who reviewed the last chapter :)

dreamcatcher_3107: I know that it's hard to picture Hermione with Ron. But think that maybe the choices you make in life are not caused by what you deeply feel in your heart, but also by the circumstances... and by what you feel for your friends. I can't be more precise, here, but you'll see what I mean when we will arrive at a scene in the second part of this four parts saga. I know it's long... but when you'll arrive at that scene, you'll understand. Anyway, Hermione likes Ron very much... but...*shuts up*
As for the cliffie, I'm afraid this chapter has a cliffie even worse than chapter 4 ^^; Thank you again for the review!

Ezmerelda: Yes, time will tell, Ezmeralda. Even because it may be a shock for people who always thought at Draco as a mouth that uttered insults, realising that he's a human being, instead. Everything at the right time... if the events would get too rushed, you'd feel that something's wrong, don't you think? ;) Keep reading, and thank you for the review!

sexybabehp17: :) well, Draco had did something that he shouldn't have done. His Malfoy's pride yells at him that he shouldn't show his weak side in front of a Weasley, but he also did a thing that hurts a bit his man's pride: he was helped by a woman. So he can do the only thing that would give him back dignity: say that he's sorry. You will know more about Marion in chapter 7, it's approaching :) Thanks for the review!

Rea Yume: well... think at Dumbledore gone, McGonagall killed in an useless fight, Arthur dead, Molly almost crazy for the sorrow... the Death Eaters and the true Dementors (not the one that the Ministry of Magic modified) looking for you... your family, your friends... everybody is in danger if you show up. Now you have the reason why Harry and Ron stay hidden and keep their arse on a seat reading books to find a solution. Faster they find why the Green Torch didn't work, faster they will be free to go back to their lives...
As I've said also to sexybabehp17, you will "meet" Marion in chapter 7. Yes, it's a sad story... and thanks for the compliment *^^*. Thank you for the review!

Written by: Kagome-sama

Translated by: Kagome-sama (me, yes! =.=)

Beta-read by: Jess and Zahri Melitor. Thanks so much to both! *HUGS!*

Disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A thing said by a character in this story is quoted from the japanese Comic "Fruits Basket". I'd like to point out that this is NOT a crossover with Fruits Basket. I just liked that phrase and thought to use it. Who knows Fruits Basket can understand which phrase I'm talking about.

Author's note:

Thanks to everybody for the nice reviews this story is getting! I'm not picky about feedback, feel free to write whatever you want. I don't bite and I'm always happy to read your opinions! :). I'm sorry if I updated with such a late, but unfortunately I was forced go in the hospital and sayed there for almost 2 months. I also had a surgery. Now finally I feel well enough ^^. Sorry again for the waiting time, but I didn't have a computer nor a internet connection at the hospital. One of my friends read to me your reviews, though, and they helped me greatly to feel better. Thank you all!

Note: This fic is written OotP-wise; don't read it if you didn't read OotP!.

'Where are you going, my child?' the witch asked, grinning.

Ginny could see her teeth, yellow and spotted with black, under her hooked nose. She turned in Draco's direction and noticed that he was staring around, without paying any attention to her. After few seconds, she was surrounded by two more witches and four wizards, all of whom weren't a pretty sight to behold.

'Baby, wha' d'yeh think ter go fer a ride?'

'Did yeh get lost?'

'D'yeh wan' we help yeh ter fin' yer way back?' they asked, smiling at her in the most disgusting way she could've ever imagined.

She fought not to start panicing; even if her throat hurt from the effort of biting back her scream, she knew that it was useless. She stammered some words of excuse, starting to sweat hard.

'Ginny, let's go,' said Draco, holding her arm and glaring at the people nearby with a look of disgust. When the group saw him, their eyes widened and they moved away, bowing and creating a way for the two to leave. Ginny didn't understood why, until she glanced at Draco for a moment�he wore his cloak the other way around, and now the Malfoy's badge stood out on his chest, in full view.

'This is one of the rare places where my name still commands a certain respect,' he said, noticing the direction of her glance.

'Where are we?' asked Ginny, looking around suspiciously. They were walking through a dirty street, and were just passed in front of a shop which showed, inside its windows, a large collection of big and dangerous-looking spiders. Ginny shuddered, thinking how much such a sight would scare Ron. She didn't like spiders, either, but her brother was second to no one in his fear of them.

'Knockturn Alley,' replied Draco, quickening his pace. Ginny tried her best to stay close to him�she didn't have any intention to lose sight, with him just there.

'What are we doing in a place with such a bad reputation?'

'You'll see it shortly, we're just arrived. What d'you want to do, stay outside or come in?' Draco drawled, an amused grin spreading all over his face. The signs of the shop, in front of which they had just stopped, showed it to be called Borgin & Burkes; inside it, Ginny could distinguish various objects, none of which she was very pleased to see. Anyway, the crowd around her was much worse... so she followed Draco inside.

The place was exactly as Draco remembered. As always, there were poisons, dark and prohibited artefacts, and stuff that no other seller would've ever even wanted to keep hidden, displayed around the shop. There were skulls, human bones, strange amphorae with eyes and precious stones inside, and other stuff coming from many countries. Everything was hidden in the shadows, but even in this light, Ginny was deeply aghast by what she was seeing. Draco smirked at her disgusted frowns and approached the counter, ringing a little bell which was upon it. Ginny jerked at the sound.

'Ginny, do not touch anything,' Draco hissed, when somebody from the back of the shop muttered that he was coming. Ginny sent Draco a disgusted look, which obviously meant that she would've never touched any of this stuff, even if he had forced her to.

'Let's see... who do we have here... oh! Young Master Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again. Of course, I never did trust the stories that the Ministry of Magic had told about you... disgraceful stories, indeed�' From the back of the shop appeared an old man, with oily black hair, peppered with grey. He walked a little crooked, and rubbed his hands as he observed his new customers, a sadistic look spreading across his face. Ginny found the way he drawled his words quite annoying, as he pretended a servile flattery which he appeared not to feel.

'Which one d'you mean? The one about my death or the one about my soul being eaten by a Dementor?' snapped Draco, dryly. Ginny watched him as he talked with Mr. Borgin, and noticed that Draco was acting different. Maybe he was, unconsciously or willingly, playing Lucius' role, mimicking his way of acting and of talking.

'Exactly, Master Malfoy. But I can see, with pleasure, that, as I've supposed, they were only stories. How may I be of assistance?' The man placed emphasis on the word "pleasure" in a way that disgusted Ginny. She wanted to be out this shop as soon as possible. Still, she couldn't go away by herself�she needed Draco, because she was too much frightened of the crowd. So, she forced herself to stay.

'I'm not buying, but selling, Mr. Borgin. These.' Draco took, from the pocket of his robe, the three objects that Ginny had seen him withdraw from the vault at Gringotts. The man's face lost all of his servile flattery at Draco's words, but when he saw what the boy put into his hands, his eyes glimmered in joy.

'Oh... what a magnificent offer, Master Malfoy. Your father never brought to me items of this sort. He sold to me quite impressive objects, though... and he also bought many.'

'How much d'you reckon these would be worth of?' asked Draco, casually. He didn't really want to sell his mother's earrings and favourite ring. He knew that they were very precious, and he'd never sell them to anybody. However, he did need something to divert Mr. Borgin's attention.

'They are priceless; extremely ancient, and completely made with gold. And... look at those enchanted stones...' the man said, almost awed. Then he eyed at Draco, made some distance between himself and the jewels, and continued, 'I cannot buy them, I know that your father would never allow them to be sold. However, master Malfoy... I have a few things you may be interested in buying, at a very reasonable price�'

The man took from under his counter a tray�it clearly contained poisons, it was obvious by the stamp across the top of it. Mr. Borgin opened it in front of Draco's nose, who gazed at the content feigning interest. He knew that the old wizard didn't want to buy the objects because they were obviously too dangerous to be kept. His reluctance was surely not from a pretend "respect" for his father... What a tosser, Draco thought.

'I think I'll buy this datura's essence,' he said, while staring at the various bottles. Ginny gasped, hearing Draco's words. What use could he have for datura's essence? 'Err... tell me, Mr. Borgin... d'you know anything about the Green Torch?' asked Draco, casually checking the content of another bottle. Mr. Borgin's eyes got widened and he stared at the boy, his face aghast.

'The Green Torch... I'd love to put my hands on it, Master Malfoy. It's yet another priceless object, like the jewels you showed me before. The only thing which can destroy the Dark Lord.'

'Yes, Potter used it with this intention. But it didn't work, because he came back, after all. So... how can a useless thing be priceless?' retorted Draco. The man stared at him in amazement; then, his face came closer to Draco's as he hissed back, under his breath,

'Harry Potter didn't use the true Green Torch, Mr. Malfoy. The true Torch is the priceless object, not its copies. They have only a temporary effect.' His face turned positively ashen as he said that. Ginny tried to hear what he was muttering, but he talked in such a slow and low monotone that it was hard for her to understand. Draco was the only person who could really hear what the man had said, but he didn't react at all.

'Precisely what I wanted to know. So, is there really a way of finding it, or of buying it?' Draco asked, staring at Mr. Borgin with interested eyes. He stretched his fingers and joined his fingertips, tapping them together unconsciously. 'You know, my father loved this kind of stuff, he had a very large collection of objects which the Dark Lord had owned. I'd love to complete it with this Torch so that it won't be found by�ah�unworthy people, if you know what I mean.' He kept staring at the man as he spoke. Mr. Borgin seemed to freeze.

'If I've owned that object, or if I would've known where to find it, I wouldn't surely be here, Master Malfoy. I would've brought the Green Torch to the Dark Lord, and by now I would've been honoured and feted as the person who gave him immortality. Nobody can collect the Green Torch, Master Malfoy, not even yourself.'

'That's exactly the reason why I want it. Thank you for the information, how much is the datura's essence?' Draco's eyes looked down to observe the small bottle he was juggling. He paid the two galleons and fifteen sickles Mr. Borgin requested and then walked out the shop, beckoning Ginny to follow. As they moved out of Mr. Borgin's sight, Draco again took hold of Ginny's arm and forced her to stay close to him while they left Knockturn Alley.

'Thank you, Malfoy,' she said, waiting for him to turn his cloak to the reverse side.

'Thank you for what?' he asked, pretending to be suprised.

'You know what. Thank you for asking for information about the Torch. What did he say?' Draco sent her an unreadable glance, as he put his hat back on his head.

'Nothing very interesting. He said that Potter didn't use the true Green Torch. I wanted him to say more, actually,' he confessed, walking straight to Ollivander�s.

'I never would've thought that you'd really try to help us,' she said, and stared distantly into a shop-window as she spoke. Draco held her arm tightly, forcing her to turn in his direction and look at him. Ginny's heart sank�she never would've suspected a reaction of that sort.

'Potter�saved�my�bloody�life, Ginny.' He stared at her for a long moment, with the most serious look she ever saw on his face. Then he let go of her and walked away.

Ginny remained silent until they came to Ollivander's shop, musing about what Draco had just said. I didn't really trust him. When I saw him lying in the couch I thought Harry did a big mistake. But... I'm starting to believe I was wrong, she thought, as she opened the shop's door. A small bell linked to it rang, and a pair of shining eyes stared at her, from behind the counter.

'Let's see, who do we have here?' asked the small wizard, eyeing the girl first, and then the boy. 'Miss Weasley, it's a long time since I last saw you. Besides... if I�m not wrong, this is Mr. Malfoy. Seems like the stories I've heard about you were false.' The old wizard gave them both a nod, waiting for them to approach. 'How may I help you?'

'I need to clean my wand. I've waited too long, I know. But I didn't have the chance to come here earlier, you know, Mr. Ollivander...' The man nodded yes, and Ginny continued, 'so, I had to wait. But today I had other errands...' She took her wand out her robe's pocket and tossed it to the wizard.

Ollivander scanned the thin wood with critical eyes, checking all the details for a long moment. After various minutes of staring at it, he looked up at Ginny, looking very disappointed.

'Miss Weasley,' he muttered abruptly, 'your wand is so dirty that it's almost not worthy any more of being called that. You should have come here a long time ago... ' He sighed, mournful. 'What a pity. Such a beautiful wand. Birch, ten inches, single unicorn hair core. I remember having made it as if it were yesterday. A wonderful wand, with such a pure core, perfect for Charms. And you reduce it in such a state!'

The man kept staring at the wand, somehow sad. His voice was hoarse with suffering, and he shook his head, as if he were speaking about a disgrace which happened to one of his children. Hearing his speech, Draco tried to hide himself and started staring in the opposite direction. If Ginny's wand needed to be cleaned... what would be said of his? It would be better if he never showed it to Ollivander...

'Please, forgive me, Mr. Ollivander�' Ginny said, her ears turning pink as she lowered her head, ashamed.

'Don't grimace like that, miss. A person like yourself, who lives close to Harry Potter, should take better care of her magical objects. What if a Death Eater attacked you, and your wand was too much dirty to work properly? And... as for you, Mr. Malfoy...' Draco gasped when the man told his name. Ollivander was glaring at him with his bright big eyes, and he seemed to almost look into the deepest part of his soul and only find something horrible and disgusting. Draco gulped. 'Please don't hide yourself like that, I can see you. Give me your wand. Since you're here, I'll clean it up as well.' The man showed a hand to Draco, imperiously beckoning him to let go of it.

'There's no need, really, Mr Ollivander�' he tried to say, but the old wizard sent him such an icy glare that Draco had to give up. His heart bled when his hand reached into his pocket, knowing exactly what the old wizard would say after having a look at his wand.

When Ollivander finally put his hands on the thin wood, the pain which showed his eyes would've roused a criminal. He stared at the wand, his glasses pushed up on his nose, moving it in his hands and sighing a lot of times as he examined it. He continued studying it for various minutes, and then he glared, once again, at Draco.

'I'd never have expected this, Mr. Malfoy. I understand that, in your conditions, it's not easy to come here. I understand that it may have cost you dearly, even being captured. However... I never, ever saw, in my whole life, a willow wand turning entirely and utterly B-L-A-C-K!' He spat out that "black" as if he were talking about an homicide, his face turning purple and his eyes going wide, as he stared into Draco's face.

Draco closed his eyes and gasped, trying to hide his face with his hands, as if Ollivander had hit him; he felt blood rush to his face, as he noticed the way Ginny was staring at him. His face turned pink and he lowered his eyes.

'Err... I...but...' he muttered. For once, he didn't know what to say.

'No buts! In your condition you should've had to take more care of your only weapon, Mr. Malfoy! Your wand is so filthy now; I wouldn't be surprised if it just stopped working, all of sudden! Tell me, what would've you done if, when you were in danger, your wand wouldn't work! BE ASHAMED!' He slammed a hand on his counter, to emphasise his last words, and, again, he glared at Draco with his deadly bright eyes.

Draco didn't need him to point out anything, though�he never had been so humiliated in his whole life. Not even when Potter saved his arse few days ago. Not even when his father glared at him.

Ollivander sent him yet another severe look, and then he went to the back of the shop, to give the wands to his assistants. When he returned, few minutes later, he didn't seem to have lost his rigorous frown, which he was still bestowing upon Draco. Anyway, he turned to the girl and his face gained a more pleasant look.

'Miss Weasley, please return in an hour and a half, your wand should be ready by then.' He rubbed his hands, trying to make Ginny feel more comfortable. Then, he turned another time to Draco, and his stare changed straight away into a glare.

'As for you, Mr. Malfoy; your wand will be ready in two days,' he hissed. Draco's eyes went wide for the shock hearing the news, his pale face turning even paler, 'And I won't accept any reason! My assistants will need a lot of work in order to fix it decently. It's nothing you may fix in few minutes!' he shouted.

Then, Ollivander went back to the back of the shop. Draco was shaking in rage and mortification, clenching his fists and glaring with hatred at the door which the old wizard just disappeared through.

Their trip back home was very silent, and tense. Draco couldn't still talk, after the bad figure he had cut at Ollivander's; Ginny didn't know what to say�sometimes not saying anything is better than saying false words, her mother often said. Moreover... in part because of the fact he didn't talk at all, Malfoy didn't seem that mad.

Then, a small girl had the bright idea of bumping into Draco, while mimicking a spell with a friend. Draco pushed her away harshly and she fell to the ground, starting to sniff as if she was about to cry. Ginny looked at Draco horrified; they didn't need a crying child to draw people's attention into them! Draco lost his temper; he approached the child and grabbed her jumper. He glared at her, frowning, his blue-grey eyes filled with hatred. The child froze and stared at him, scared to death.

'Beg my pardon,' he hissed into the child's ear. The small girl grew paler than before and stammered nonsense words, mixed with groans of pain. Draco stayed there, glaring at the child for a long moment, until Ginny approached him and put a hand to his shoulder, trying to make him relent. But as Draco tossed her hand away and glared at her, Ginny stopped dead and the words she would've said died in her throat; his eyes were... creepy.

In exactly the same manner than he got angry, Draco suddenly calmed down. He let go of the child and, after having given her with another icy glare, he turned to leave. The child stared at nothing for a while, her face still as pale as a sheet from fear. Then she stood up, crawling, and ran away. Ginny followed Draco, trying to not get too far away from him.

'Did you go nuts? Why did you treat that child in this way, in the middle of Diagon Alley? Didn't we have to try not to be seen?' she asked when she finally caught up. Draco kicked angrily a cobble-stone that happened to be in front of his right foot. Then he turned towards Ginny; his eyes seemed to be more human than before, but he was still utterly annoyed.

'I didn't do anything to that child. She bumped into me and brought that upon herself,' he said, curtly. Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed.

'You're not made of crystal, after all. She didn't do it on purpose! Did you really have to scare her like that?' Draco sent her a look which didn't necessitate any explanations. Then, he quickened his pace until they arrived in front of the wall dividing Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron.

Draco's hand went to his pocket, to take out his wand, but that pocket was empty. He clenched his fists and shook them with rage, his gaze continuing to harden. Ginny took out her wand and touched the stones with it, allowing them to leave.

It didn't take a lot of time to get back to the fire, and even less to use the Floo powder and go back to the abandoned house which Remus had connected to the Floo Network for them this time�they always had to use a different house if they didn't want someone to get suspicious, and poor Remus had always to organise things for them, changing the fire connected to the Network every few days.

Ginny once again cleaned the soot from Draco's face, and then she spent a bit of time cleaning herself, as the boy tossed the soot from his own clothes.

'Malfoy, really; your wand was a mess,' she commented, as they walked through London's streets, surrounded by the shadows of the evening. It already was evening... Time really passes quickly as you go out for errands, Ginny thought. Draco stopped dead and turned to look at her. She stopped as well and drew backwards; somehow frightened that he would act in the same way he did in Diagon Alley. But Draco resumed his walk almost immediately, without saying a word.

'I know,' he muttered, finally, when they arrived in front of the Hotel's door. They looked to the right and the left, to be sure that nobody saw them, and then quickly opened the door and went into the building.

There was a big confusion in the hall of the hotel and nobody seemed to notice that they were back. It seemed like someone was very busy in walking up and down the corridor.

'Oh, you're back, finally,' said Hermione. They saw her stopping in front of them; she was carrying a basin filled with water. She put it on a piece of furniture, opening and closing her hands quickly to restart the blood circulation.

'I have no time to explain everything to you. Remus is hurt,' she said and then picked up the basin again, and resumed her walk to the room beside the kitchen. Draco and Ginny stared at the door where she had just disappeared, their eyes wide in shock.

'He didn't look hurt, few hours ago�' Draco muttered under his breath.

Ginny was the first one to come out of her shocked state and walk into the kitchen, curious to know what had happened. Draco followed her.

Lupin was laid down on the couch which Draco had been sleeping on, recently. He was bleeding a lot from a wound on his back... perhaps it had been inflicted with something blunt. What could've happened to him to reduce him in such a state, in so few hours?

'Oh, you're back. Good, we needed help,' said Sirius, giving them an agitated glance. He was working with his wand on Lupin's back, trying to fix the wound; Hermione was very busy preparing a Potion.

'Is there any way I can help you?' asked Ginny.

Draco stayed still, instead. He didn't know what to do; besides, Lupin was lying on his bed... spotting it with blood, and this really made him upset.

'Yes, thank you Gin. Come here and toss me that lamb,' said Hermione, throwing into the cauldron what Draco recognized as flobberworm juice. Ginny hurried up to help Hermione, and the latter sent her a thankful glance, as she reduced the meat Ginny just tossed to her into very small pieces. Then, she started to throw it into the cauldron, at a slow pace. Sweat drops fell from her forehead, down to her temples and her cheeks. Ginny decided to help her mix the potion, which left Hermione with more room to concentrate on the meat.

'What are you doing?' drawled Draco, baffled. Hermione didn't even look at him,

'I'm preparing the Wolfsbane's Potion. You know... like the one Professor Snape prepared for Lupin when he was at Hogwarts. Tomorrow's a full moon night,' she retorted dryly, causing Draco's blood to turn into ice.

'Shall we host a Werewolf with the full moon?' he snapped up. Hermione's meat was finished and she cleaned her hands, addressing Draco a piercing glance.

'Look, we also host a Malfoy�' Ron's voice resounded behind their backs. The boy approached Hermione and tossed her a strange package. He seemed to be a bit out of breath and upset. Draco glared at him.

'Weasley, maybe it's too hard to understand for the lot of you, but a werewolf is a dangerous creature,' he hissed. Ron didn't even consider him and approached Hermione.

'The wolfsbane was difficult to find. It's not normal to pick it during the day.'

'Unfortunately we needed it that way. Not only picked during the day, but also picked during the day of a new moon. Did you check that detail, Ron?' she asked, frowning.

Ron nodded yes, so she once again paid attention to Draco, as Ginny mixed the liquid into the cauldron.

'This is why I'm preparing the Potion, Malfoy. If Lupin didn�t drink it very often, he wouldn't be able to stay here, as it would've been too dangerous,' she said. Then, she fastened her attention on her Potion, again, to decide how much wolfsbane she should've used.

'Harry's coming with the unicorn's hair. We split up to go faster,' said Ron, trying to be of some help. Hermione nodded yes, and in fact, a few moments later, Harry arrived carrying another package. Hermione waited few minutes, staring at her watch with concern. Then she added a few unicorn hairs to the Potion and sighed in relief. She wiped her forehead on her sleeve and kept mixing the Potion, now relaxed.

'What happened to him?' asked Ginny now that the most important matter was over. Lupin's wound had healed thanks to Sirius' attempts and now the man was breathing normally. Draco sat on a chair near the kitchen door.

'I've had a fight with McNair; I followed him after leaving the you two. But I didn't expect him to come from behind and he got me.' The man sat on the couch, his pale face steadily gaining colour. Hermione approached him, leaving the Potion boil for a while.

'It will be ready in half an hour, Remus. Is this soon enough? Are we in time?' A thin line knitted her brows, and she was wringing her hands almost frenetically. She looked nervous; perhaps Draco's objection was something she was worried about as well.

'Yes, I drank it this early afternoon and I must drink it every six hours of the day before the full moon. Don't worry, if I ever thought that you were in danger, I'd leave immediately,' he said, staring at Draco. Lupin sent him a serious glance, but didn't look angry, just worried.

'So, there's just one small problem left. Malfoy, Remus must sleep here tonight and tomorrow,' said Sirius, who was sitting next to Lupin, on the couch, and was staring at Draco.

'What's the problem?'

'We need this couch. After all, we were talking the other day, and we've thought that, since you must stay here, you should have your own room.' Draco felt suddenly joyful. His face brightened at these words, but Sirius didn't seem of the same mood.

'A room? That's ok. So, what is the problem?' He would've had a room... after all that time! His room, finally, a bit of privacy. How much did he miss it!

'I must prepare the Potion for Remus. He must drink it frequently tomorrow, you know. It's a new formula which he said is more secure. The others must work in the library. So, since it's your room, it's you who will put it in order,' Hermione said. Joy drained from Draco's face.

'But�' he argued.

'It's just a simple charm, after all. Malfoy, you were better than me for charms at Hogwarts, it should be easy for you... I was able to do it as well!' snapped up Ron, staring at him mockingly. How much Draco would've loved to give him a punch on that ugly face of his... or to hex him somehow, if he'd have his wand.

'Malfoy can't perform charms today, nor tomorrow,' said Ginny. Everybody stared at her, amazed and silent. The dull sound of the Potion boiling was the only thing which marked the slow passing of time.

'Why?' asked Harry, asking for them all.

'Ollivander took his wand to clean it up,' replied Ginny. She noticed that Draco was glaring at her, and supposed that he didn't want her to tell the group about Ollivander's scene. She grinned. 'He has to go and pick it up in two days,' she concluded. Draco sighed in relief, and Ginny's grin became brighter.

'Wow... did you lose it in a marsh?' joked Ron; for once he was the sarcastic one and Malfoy was glaring at him, It would be nice to become used to that, he thought, amused.

'Hold your tongue, Weasel,' Draco retorted, dryly. Ron didn't lose his sarcastic grin, though, and this really pissed Draco off. After all, who would've been scared of him now? He didn't have his wand, he was harmless! Damn at that git of Ollivander who didn't want to give me a wand in replacement! he thought.

'If things are like that�' said Lupin, trying to stand up, but failing miserably. Sirius stopped him and forced him to lie down again.

'No, Remus. You won't move. Even if I fixed your wound, you ought to stay still if you want to heal. You won't move from this couch.' Sirius glanced at him, worried, then stood up and said, as he left, 'I�ve got to wash my hands.' Lupin sighed, but followed Sirius' suggestion; he turned his back to the others and tried to get some sleep.

'In truth, it's not a big problem.' Hermione walked away from where she was and directed straight to a corner of the room. She beckoned Draco to come closer as she looked for something into a built-in wardrobe. 'Come here, Malfoy�'

Draco snorted and stood up from his chair, still annoyed by the situation. As he drew near her, Hermione emerged from the wardrobe, triumphant, and she tossed into his hands a mutton-chop and few loins. Then she took a pail and rested it just in front of Draco's feet, turning to close the door.

Draco stared at her in pure amazement. He wasn't even able to get angry, because of how shocked he was. He blinked two or three times and kept staring, silent.

'A bit of work has never hurt anyone, Malfoy. Come on, you won't need much work to make your room presentable. You can always finish setting it up when you have your wand back.'

Ron barely hid a laugh, Harry had such an idiotic smile stamped on his face that Draco would've loved to kick him in the arse, until he lost it. Hermione crossed her arms and stared at him, annoyed. Not counting Lupin, who was lying down on the couch, with his back to Draco, Ginny was the only person who tried not to stare at him; of course, this wasn't a big help.

'Wh-which room will be his?' Ginny asked, trying to change subject.

'The empty one on the first floor, near the laundry. We decided this today, while you were out. It's the one in the best condition, after all, so it's easier to clean up,' said Harry, finally dropping the idiotic expression.

'Wait a minute, I don�t think I quite understand. You think I, Draco Malfoy, should lower myself to do servant chores? Are you completely and utterly insane, or were you all dropped on your heads as babies?' he spat out, still not trusting his own ears. He glared for a while at the meat loins Hermione had handed him.

'Oh shut up, Malfoy. Follow me,' retorted Hermione, her hands rubbing her temples because of her exasperation. She nodded to Ginny, mutually asking her to keep mixing the potion, and then left, walking straight to the steps to go upstairs. Draco was, yet again, still, and kept staring at the wall in front of him, handling in his right hand the mutton-chop and on the left one the loins.

'MALFOY! D'you want to come here?' Hermione shouted from upstairs. He roared something that sounded like "I'm not your dog!", and stomped his foot, glaring at the door, distressed.

'I�M COMING!' he yelled, dragging his feet as he walked away. When he got to the door, though, he once again heard Hermione's voice,

'Don't forget the pail, please!' she called, causing yet another roar of exasperation. Draco turned around, furious, and grabbed the pail. Then he finally walked out the room and strode quickly to the steps.

Harry and Ron controlled themselves until they heard his footsteps going upstairs, then they were no longer able to stop themselves from laughing. Malfoy taking orders from Hermione was maybe the funniest thing they'd seen, since the bouncing ferret scene in their fourth year.

'It's not nice laughing at other people's problems,' scolded Lupin. This shut them up, but they kept glancing at each other, their amusement evident in their expressions. They are no more than children, still, mused Lupin, half-asleep.

Draco went upstairs, still completely and utterly angry, and approached the door in front of which Hermione was waiting for him. He glared at her with all his hatred and tossed the pail, abruptly, onto the floor, throwing the loins into it with all his strength. He kept glaring at Hermione, but she paid little attention to it.

'I know you're not happy about this, Malfoy. It's annoying, and you're right. However, we cannot lose our time helping you. Come on... a few hours of healthy work never have killed anyone,' she said, trying somehow to console him. Draco's glare hardened, if possible.

'What if I refuse to do it?' he asked. But Hermione didn't move, her arms still crossed over her chest, her eyes still staring at him, her right foot's toe still tapping, nervous.

'You can always sleep on the floor, it's not our problem,' she retorted, causing Draco's face to grow paler than ever.

'I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys don't ever lower themselves to do manual labour!' he spat out, slamming the mutton-chop to the floor. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring at her.

'Malfoys have two arms and two legs, like any other person in the world, I daresay,' she replied, acidly, and eyed him from tip to toe as she spoke. She held her wand and said a charm to fill the pail with a mixture of water and soap. She then unlocked the room's door and let it fall open as she walked away. 'Good job,' she added.

Draco's eyes went wide for the shock and his stomach switched�that room was a real mess.

Author's note:

This is the end of chapter 6 ^_^. I hope you're still here to follow me. I know I'm evil... poor Dray, I'm messing up with his pride a lot ^^;

About the Wolfsbane's Potion, I didn't know which ingredients JKR used for the one she talked about in PoA. So I decided to imply a new potion, which should be an improvement from the one Snape made to Lupin in PoA (you know, years pass and the science of Potions should improve...). Remus must drink it more often than the one JKR described, but he won�t turn completely into a wolf and he will keep a bit of mind during the night.

I must thank, for the ingredients, one of my friends who is VERY good at this kind of stuff. She suggested me the ingredients taking them from the real Potion that the middle-age's witches prepared to turn people into a Werewolf. I've just used the exact opposite ingredients :)

Now, let's reply to my little reviews :) You can't know how they helped me as I was in the hospital :( One of my friends phoned to me each time I had a new review and read it to me. this has helped me to be still alive. I'm not joking (I can't joke on my own life) when I say that I've risked to die. The doctor was *really* serious.

Ezmerelda: Thank you for your message. I'm happy to know that Draco is IC in your opinion. As I've already said it's very difficult to keep poor Dray in character and let people see his good side. I hope that you like even this chapter! This is funny, isn't it?

Enter Name: I thank you for your comment, LOL. I'm sorry if I didn't update quicker, but I was in hospital ... when my friend read to me your review I felt better :) thanks!

sexybabehp17: Yes, people is totally terrified when they see draco. The reason is not only what we already know about Malfoys in the books, but what has happened in the future and that you will know later on the story. In next chapter you will know about Marion. She was Draco's girlfriend and is one of the main reasons why people are so scared of Lucius Malfoy.

Liz: LOL yes, Liz, Draco's crazy :)

Mariz: Thank you, I'm honoured that you decided to start revieweing the fics in this site thans to mine :). I'm proud to have received your first review ;). As for why the people of the shop didn't call for help, the reason is that Draco DIDN'T allow them to. They were in their shops, Draco forced them stay there and didn't lose to keep an eye on them for a moment. Thus, they couldn't escape. They were afraid of Draco and, as normally happens, they showed the respect of people who are scared of someone. If you're scared and are a coward, you try to please the person whose you're scared.

hpfanmelissa: Thank you!


I hope that you will write a review and come back soon! I will post next chapter shortly, it's almost ready :)

Written by: Kagome-sama

Translated by: Kagome-sama (me, yes! =.=)

Beta-read by: Jess

Note: This fic is written OotP-wise; don't read it if you didn't read OotP!.

Draco wiped his forehead on his sleeve and sat on his bed. He'd spent the last hour shut in that room, cursing himself and working hard. He didn't know how to clean a room--he had never had to do such a thing in his whole life. Guessing he might as well get started, he had picked up some of the object that were lying on the floor and dusted them, piling them up in high heaps all over the room. He had also washed the floor; he knew how to do that, after all, he had often been forced to do it without magic when he had been given detention at Hogwarts.

Without magic . . . how could he have been that dumb? He thought about how much easier it would've been to clean the room using his wand. He could've fixed it in a few minutes, and it would've been perfect. Instead, he had been forced to clean it by hand; it wasn't a big deal, after all it was just cleaning a room; it hurt only his pride. But . . .what would've happened to him if his wand hadn't worked during a fight? He had already stared death in face, he didn't want another look, thank you very much.

Of course, Ollivander was right. Draco sighed at the realization. You only understand how important things are to you when they're gone, he thought, longingly. He stared at London's sky through the window and noticed that the first stars had appeared between the violet shades of the sunset. Damn, he would have to pick up the pace, he didn't want to sleep on the floor, as Granger had kindly suggested before.

He was standing up to resume his work, when the door opened and Hermione came into the room, carrying a tray in her hands.

'Were you having a rest, Malfoy?' she asked. He nodded as she glanced around, approaching the bed. 'I brought your dinner. Eat it before it gets cold.' She put the tray onto his bed and had a better look at the room. She shook her head, disappointed.

Draco started to eat his dinner, and watched as Hermione continued walking around the piles of stuff he had built up in various points of the room.

'What's wrong, Granger?' he asked swallowing some food. He didn't like the way that she walked through his room as if she were judging his work . . . and finding it unsatisfactory.

'Nothing. Just . . . it's obvious that you've never tidied anything up before,' she said as she finished her inspection.

Draco choked mid-swallow as the food that he had been eating went down the wrong way, and he had to cough several times and gulp two glasses of water before he felt better. He then stared at her in amazement.

'What d'you mean?' he drawled, still coughing slightly.

'I can see what you were planning to do by building those piles of stuff, but it's not the best way of putting things in order.' The girl approached one of the piles and started to scan its contents. 'The boxes should've been placed together, and so should the papers, and the objects of different sizes. Then you should've put all the larger things which needed to be repaired by magic in another pile. The way you've done it . . . just . . . isn't very well organised.'

While he was eating, Hermione started to move the stuff from the piles that he had built, and created new piles using her logic. After a few minutes, new heaps of well organized stuff could be seen in the room, replacing the ones that had taken him hours to form. Then, Hermione took a box and started to fill it with papers and thin stuff.

'Since you've finished eating, you may as well come here and help me, instead of staring at me like an idiot,' she snapped, glaring at him.

Draco immediately stood up and walked over to where she was sitting. It wasn't until he had knelt down beside her and had begun to sort some papers into another pile that he realized that he had obeyed her orders without batting an eyelash. He stopped and angrily muttered something under his breath. She smiled.

'You know, Malfoy. Today you've truly impressed me. You should be proud, it can't have been easy for you,' she said, taking some papers that he passed to her, and putting them in the box. Draco noted that she was trying to use as little space as possible.

'I don't understand,' he admitted. He truly hadn't understood--how could he possibly have impressed her today?

'Ginny told us what you did. I never thought that you'd really help us, you know,' she replied beckoning for him to toss her some papers which were farther away.

Draco stood up and picked up what she had asked him to give her. Hermione became very busy trying to add more papers to the box than it could possibly hold; she appeared to be concentrating very hard.

'If that's the case then there's something that just doesn't make sense to me,' he said.

Hermione stopped what she was doing and turned to face him.

'What?' she asked.

She gave up the hope of fitting the large bundle into such a small box and simply used her wand to enlarge the box, with an ease that Draco envied.

'Why did you bother making me swear not to break your rules? Since you obviously still don't trust me; what was the point?' he asked, picking up the remaining pile of papers and tossing them to her.

Hermione gazed at him for a moment, stunned; she took the papers and slipped them into the box automatically, with her wand.

'Well, in truth . . . it's hard to trust you. It's your own fault, you know.'

'I don't regret anything,' he retorted, sneering at her. 'I'm not trying to follow your rules, or help you because I'm seeking "redemption" or anything stupid like that. It's just that . . . I have a life debt with Potter.' His face turned pink, and with you as well, he thought.

'Good thing to know,' she replied. Then, she stood up and took a new box.

They stayed there tidying together for an hour and a half and, slowly, the room began to look fit for human habitation. The bigger objects and the broken beams were fixed by Hermione's wand. Then, she freshened up the bed in the same way and found some blankets and a heavy bedspread, which she left on the mattress.

'I reckon you can continue by yourself,' she said, picking up the tray and walking through the door.

'Why did you do that?' he asked. She turned to stare at him for a long moment.

'I don't know,' she murmured and immediately left, closing the door behind her.

Draco approached his bed. He knew perfectly well that he should make it up, but he couldn't resist and sank onto the mattress. He had never been this tired in his whole life. Only five minutes, he thought as he moved into a more comfortable position.

'Good Morning, Mr. Malfoy. How may I help you?' A girl with brown hair and dark eyes smiled and stared at him from under her glasses.

Draco observed her, doubtfully. She was Marion Winterman, Fudge's new secretary. He had met her before and he had always thought of her as a dull person; shy and obliging, but absolutely inefficient. He hoped that she wouldn't waste his precious time--he was there to collect a few documents that his father needed, but he had a lot of other things to do that day.

Ever since he had left Hogwarts, Lucius seemed to think Draco's purpose in life was to run boring errands for him. Of course he had his reasons; Draco hadn't got all the N.E.W.T.s that his father had expected him to. However . . . he'd hoped for more consideration.

'I'm here to collect those papers, Miss Winterman. You know which ones,' he said, frowning. She smiled at him and ran to her desk, starting to look through various folders that were piled there, in what he hoped was some sort of order.

'Yes, of course. Here, they should be here . . . why aren't they where I put them? Damn it! I'm sure that I put them here! I'm ready to--' she stammered as she rummaged through the papers.

She blushed to the roots of her hair as she accidentally tipped over an open ink bottle that was on her desk. Quickly, she righted the bottle and attempted to block the spill from spreading while she tried to move the nearby papers without pushing them off the desk.

This was what really pissed him off. Her. She was disorganised and completely incompetent; she always took hours to find what people asked her for. She seemed to live with her head in the clouds. How many times had he asked her to find some papers by a certain day and she had only just began to look for them when she had seen a glimpse of his face entering the office? How many memos had he sent her to remind her about her duties . . . always later finding them lying untouched on her table, as if she hadn't even bothered to open them? How many times had she said that she had just forgotten? HOW COULD SHE JUST FORGET? It was her bloody job, damn! How the hell could she forget about it? Sometimes he had been forced to wait for her for over ten minutes because she was late. Why didn't Fudge just get rid of her?

Suddenly, a big volume, which had been lying on a corner of the table, fell to the floor with a loud crash. Marion gasped in shock.

'Oh! Here they are--' she said, cleaning the sweat from her forehead, cheeks and eyes. Her hand was covered with the ink that she had just prevented covering everything on the desk, and her fingers left funny splotches on her face. When she rubbed her eyes Draco couldn't help but giggle.

She's strange, indeed, he thought. She grabbed the book from the floor and eyed Draco, her face turning even redder. God, she was dirty! It was as if somebody had given her a punch on both eyes, and this didn't help him to regain control of himself. She approached him, glancing at him now and then with what she wanted to be a sexy glance, but this just made him laugh harder.

'You should laugh more frequently, Mr. Malfoy. You always look angry with the whole world, but I like it when you dimple here.' She showed him where his dimple was with her dirty hand. Then, she picked up the file that he had requested and tossed it to him. It had been under the big book that had fallen onto the floor--no wonder she'd been unable to find it.

'Dimple?' Draco raised an eyebrow at those words. He quickly skimmed through the file she had given him, checking that it was the right one.

'Yes . . . err . . . I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to . . . how rude I must seem. I beg your pardon, sir--' She blushed again and skimmed her dirty hand over her cheek, nervously. Draco smiled.

'Don't worry. Go wash that face of yours, you look like a Sioux,' he said, unable to contain his laughter any longer. She stared at her dirty hand, and suddenly realized what he was talking about. She blushed even more and ran to the toilet. Draco continued laughing all the time, as he skimmed the content of his file once more, and left.

'Good morning, Mr. Malfoy.' He just had entered the ante-room of Fudge's office and, as usually, Marion was smiling at him. He grinned back and she immediately frowned, grabbing one of the waiting memos and starting to read it nervously. 'You're here . . . to get those papers? God . . . can you wait five minutes? I'll be right back.' She tried to hide something that she had been reading before he entered the room and stood up, running away.

Draco shook his head, disappointed. That girl would never get better. He waited until she had left the room and then approached her desk; it was a complete mess, as always. How could she be a secretary, he wondered. He often had had to deal with other girls like her, but they were all very ordered, and efficient.

However . . . however he couldn't help but find her interesting. At first he had hated the way she acted, and he still found it annoying. But . . . he couldn't help chuckling as he recalled the Sioux accident. Today his father should've gone to get the files himself, but Draco had insisted that he go instead--if Lucius caught sight of the mess he'd probably complain to Fudge.

He glanced at the place where Marion had hastily hidden what she had been reading before he had entered the room. It was a sort of small book, which showed on its cover a boy, Or is it a girl? Bah . . . dressed in blue. He or she looked like a Muggle, or at least they dressed like one; besides, the small book must have been printed by Muggles, because it had their style of printing. What strange taste she has . . .

He picked it up and started to skim through it. It was a comic book; Draco had read a few during his childhood, the ones drawn by wizards. He had been a huge fan of a story about a weird Muggle. Miss Winterman is far too old to be reading this sort of stuff . . . he thought as he tried to follow the drawings. The balloons were written with strange signs . . .the language definitely wasn't English.

'Mr. Malfoy!' Draco gasped at her shout. He glanced in the voice's direction and tried to get rid of the book, instinctively, but didn't really put it down. 'I know it took me longer than usual to bring you these papers . . . but . . . it's not nice of you to . . .' she said, her voice showing her concern. She rested the files she was holding on the desk and pulled the small book out of his hands, blushing.

'I reckon you're not paid for reading that stuff,' he said, smirking. 'Or maybe is this a special mission Fudge had given to you?' Noticing her evident embarrassment, his anger faded away. She really was funny . . . redder than ever and stammering to find a good excuse for what he just had found out.

'Err . . . it's that . . . Um . . .'

'You've kept me waiting, but it's not a big deal. I won't say a word, don't worry. However . . . today my father could've been the one to come here, and he wouldn't have let you off so easily. After all, you didn't prepare the papers that I asked you to days ago because of . . . lack of attention,' he said, trying to look serious and eyeing the comic book that the girl was holding, as he emphasised the last words.

'I-I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I swear!' she said, bowing in front of him several times.

'I reckon you've read too many comics, miss. There's no need to bow like that,' he retorted, causing her to blush even more and mutter other words of excuse, looking mortified. He was having fun teasing her--after all, she seemed to attract trouble.

'I'm sorry,' she said, again. Then, she took the files that she had left the room to look for and passed them to Draco, hiding the comic in a drawer of her desk. 'Anyway, here are the papers you've asked me to prepare. I hope they're all there.'

'Yes, I think so. Good thing you came back so quickly, if the weather predictors aren't wrong, there will probably be a snow storm today, and I have other errands,' he said, quickly glancing at the window as he skimmed through his files. Even if the weather inside the Ministry of Magic was made artificially, the windows were charmed to show the weather outside. And by what the window showed, it looked like the first snowflakes were already starting to fall.

Marion stared at the weather outside, her eyes growing wide in amazement. She ran to the window, squealed and ran out the door, quickly reaching the corridor. Draco was shocked by her reaction, and decided to follow her; after all, he had everything he needed from that office.

Marion ran along the corridor, down the steps to reach the hall and then outside. Draco went to wait for the lift to reach his floor, but he immediately changed his mind and ran after her--who knew what she would do? Maybe she'd finally cracked.

He reached the girl, who had stopped to catch her breath just few steps from the telephone-box door which was the guest entrance to the Ministry.

'Why on the earth--' he snapped at her, between breaths.

'The snow . . . Look, Mr. Malfoy . . . it's snowing!' she murmured under her breath, like a little girl staring at a new doll. She had intertwined her hands and her eyes were dreamy.

'Yes, it tends to do that when it gets cold during the winter,' he retorted, unable to understand why she was making such a fuss about it. Yes, it wasn't that frequent for London that it snowed . . . but it did happen sometimes.

'I have always loved the snow, Mr. Malfoy. My family left to live in Miami years ago, this is the first time that I have seen the snow in a while!' She kept staring at the snowflakes that were slowly increasing their speed. She really looked like a child; Draco just couldn't keep his usual frown while observing her. It's so difficult to look �angry with the whole world� when I'm with her, he thought.

'I understand,' he said, approaching her and draping his cloak over her shoulders; she had run out without even stopping to take something to keep herself warm.

'Mr. Malfoy, do you know what becomes of snow when it melts?' she asked, tearing her glance from the cloudy sky and quickly glancing at him. Draco found himself thinking about the question, and not knowing how to answer.

'Err . . . I don't know. Water? Vapour?' he asked, doubtfully. Marion's eyes crinkled as he spoke, but the girl merely shook her head. In front of them, the Muggle crowd walking through the street hurried to open their umbrellas and ran for cover as the snowfall increased all of sudden.

'No, Mr. Malfoy, you're wrong. It turns spring.' She turned in his direction again, a sweet smile spreading over her face. That smile was completely different from the one she had often showed him when he had entered her office; it was true, genuine.

In the soft light of that mid December's day, as the sky became even darker and the snow falling to the ground started to grow into a storm, Draco thought that Marion's smiling face was the most beautiful thing that he'd ever seen.

'Malfoy? Malfoy?'

He felt someone shaking him, as he unwillingly returned to reality. The room was surrounded in darkness, the only light came from the point of the wand in front of him.

'Huh?' he groaned, waking up and trying to sit up. He shivered from the cold as his body objected to the way he'd slept. His clothes seemed to have tangled around him while he had been asleep and he pulled to right them quickly. He looked around and noticed that Ginny Weasley was staring at him, frowning. He sighed.

'You really must've been tired, falling asleep on the mattress, without even making the bed.' She forced him to stand up, and then used her wand to command the blankets to set themselves. A few moments later the bed was made. She then placed a tray into his hands.

'Here, I've brought to you something to eat before sleeping.'

Draco put the tray on the desk that Hermione had mended a few hours before. He was still half asleep and wasn't able to think clearly. Worse, he was shivering, and he wasn't feeling very well. He felt his sight blurring and tried to fight the unease that was eating away at him.

Ginny was walking through the room, observing the various boxes that Hermione had filled earlier that evening. But suddenly she heard something fall to the floor. She turned to Draco and her heart sank--everything that she had brought had been knocked to the floor as Draco dropped to his knees, his hands on his temples. A moment later, he collapsed onto the floor. Ginny approached him immediately, trying to wake him up.

'Malfoy? Malfoy please wake up!' He was turning paler and paler, and trembling like a leaf. Her infamous slaps, which had awakened Harry many times, were useless. Ginny panicked. Harry knew how to fight against the Dementors, Draco didn't.

'Good Morning, Mr. Malfoy! How may I help you?' Marion saw him entering the office and smiled--that sweet and genuine smile she had reserved only for him since the day they had seen the snow together. Several months had passed since that time, and the way the girl acted with him had slowly changed.

He didn't see her that much; he had had to leave for Romania, to take care of some business that his father had there. It seemed that the Dark Lord had been seen there, and Lucius didn't want his Master to think that he had betrayed him again. But Draco hadn't found anything while he was there. Now it was early July, and he was once again stuck in Fudge's office, trying to collect a few files for his father.

'Good morning, Miss Winterman. My father wants to know if the files that he asked you to find in his last memo are ready.' He saw her raise a finger to her mouth and stare at the ceiling, doubtfully. He sighed. Damn her, she would never change, after all! 'Don't you remember? The ones about the taxes of--' he drawled tiredly, and a sudden flash passed through Marion's dark eyes.

'How could I possibly forget about them? I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Malfoy. . ..' She ran out the room, blushing.

Draco smirked; as always, the desk was a complete mess. He had a look at it and saw that, lying between the various files and folders there was a piece of cake and a glass filled with something that looked like water. He looked around and noticed that the rest of the cake was hidden under the desk. Marion probably didn't want anyone to see it, if they suddenly entered the room like he had done.

If she keeps it there, absent-minded as she is, she will walk over it before the end of the day, he thought, keeping his smirk alive. Then, he had a better look under her folders; he immediately caught a glimpse of what he had known would be there and picked it up. Yet another comic-book . . . no, she really would never change.

She's taking longer than usual, he thought, bored. Since he was there, and had that book in his hands, he started to skim through it, distractedly. It seemed to be the story of two Muggles . . . how boring. Then, he turned a page and suddenly his eyes went wide with surprise. He started to cough madly, as he forgot how to swallow and began to choke. The page had a picture of two men . . . yes, they were clearly men this time . . . kissing! And they weren't just kissing, then. . ..

'I beg your pardon Mr. Mal . . .MR. MALFOY, DON'T READ THAT!' Marion's voice made him recover from the shock. Still coughing, he raised his glance to her face and stared at her; she was redder than he'd ever seen her before. She pulled the small book out his hands, like the last time, and had a look at the page that he had stopped at. She gulped as her face went even redder than before. 'Err. . ..'

'What the hell are you reading?' Draco asked when he had finally recovered.

'Err . . . so . . . this is . . . you know . . . yaoi.'

'Yao . . . what?'

'Yaoi . . . err . . . gay love.' She saw his sceptical glance and blushed even more. 'No, Mr. Malfoy, please don't look at me like that . . . I have no strange tendencies . . . that is, there's nothing bad in it . . . but. . ..'

'I think that you should stop reading that rubbish. Maybe you'll be more efficient.' He took a big breath and cleared his throat, trying to forget what he had just seen. 'Were you eating a cake?' he asked, trying to change subject. He noticed that Marion had chocolate all round her mouth and he grinned.

'Err . . . yes, it's my birthday, today . . . you know, what you were skimming through was a gift from a friend of mine,' she said putting the book into a drawer.

'Huh . . . best wishes,' he said, not showing much interest. 'You should choose your friends more carefully.'

'She sent this present to me because she knew that I li . . . err . . . that is. . ..' Marion blushed and glared at him. 'Do you want a piece of cake?' she asked. He nodded; she knelt down to get the tray with the cake and immediately cut a piece for him.

'Why are you eating that alone?' he asked.

'My family is stuck in Miami, and all my friends live there as well. I had nobody to eat it with,' she replied, as the look in her eyes changed from embarrassment to sadness. 'I came back because I found a job.'

Draco noticed that Marion was becoming even sadder. So that was why. . ..What his father had said was true; Lucius had told Draco that the Wintermans had problems with money and that Mrs Fudge had asked her husband to take Marion as his secretary, to help them.

'The Fudges are relatives of yours. Can't you stay with them?'

'I already give Uncle Cornelius enough problems during the day. I don't want to disturb him,' she retorted, staring at nothing. But immediately she shook her head and regained her cheerful look. She smiled at him--a courteous smile, this time. Draco was amazed by how easily he noticed the difference.

He stared at her, surprised, as she picked up her plate and held it in her hands, resuming her eating. 'I'm not alone anymore, now, after all. You're with me, Mr. Malfoy. Whadd'ya think about drinking some champagne? My friends sent me a full bottle, but I don't want to drink it alone.'

He nodded, smirking at her slight American accent; she was born and had spent her childhood here, but staying in Miami had changed the way that she talked. Funny that he had never noticed it . . .perhaps she normally tried to suppress her accent.

While he had been thinking, Marion had once again knelt down and had picked up a bottle of Pinot Noir, using her wand to uncork it. The cork banged suddenly and jerked away, bouncing off the ceiling and falling to the other side of the room.

'Seems like neither of us will marry, this year,' Draco said, smiling as she filled a glass she had just created by transfiguring a clean ash-tray.

'It never has happened to me, even in the past, Mr. Malfoy. Maybe it means that I won't ever marry.' She stared at him, seriously, and then continued, smiling. 'Who knows . . .right now I'm happy enough reading love stories and daydreaming.'

Draco raised his glass and bumped it against Marion's, staring at her. Of course, her glass had been transfigured as well . . . it wasn't easy finding glasses in the Office of the Minister for Magic, Draco imagined.

'Instead of contenting yourself with dreaming, you should look for the right man,' he said. He finished eating his piece of cake and made a mental compliment to the cook. Did that cake really came from Miami? Which type of owl had they used?

'Mr. Malfoy, your mouth is covered with chocolate,' Marion said, eyeing him as she finished eating hers.

'Yours is as well. Where's the chocolate? Here?' He moved his hand to clean it off, but she was quicker. Draco didn't understand why--and he'd thought about it a lot of times since, and he had never found a reason--but the soft touch of those tiny fingers on his cheek felt like fire to him.

He didn't even notice, but his hand ran to grab hers, and stopped it. Her eyes widened and her face turned red as he stared at her, but she didn't move. They stared into each others eyes, for a long moment; Draco felt his own heartbeat, and was sure that Marion's was as fast as his. Suddenly, he saw that she was trying to get away, and he made his decision. Quickly, he grabbed her, forced her to him and put his lips over hers. They tasted of chocolate.

She couldn't believe it. He was kissing her . . . she had spent the last minutes trying not to panic, but nothing could be compared to what was she feeling at that moment. She tried to wriggle away with all her strength, but his hold was too tight.

She had managed to lay him on his bed, despite the difficulty of the task due to his weight and inability to cooperate. Then she had tried to wake him up, doing everything she could think of. It was as if he was delirious--he had even coughed, at one point, and she had got seriously scared about it. She had slapped him on the face many times, then, after the last slap, Draco had opened his eyes. She had only noticed how close she had been standing to him when he had violently pushed her down on the bed beside him, and had jumped on top of her, kissing her all of a sudden.

So now, here they were, on his bed, and he was over her . . . kissing her. If somebody came into the room, what would they think of the situation? Please, don't let Harry come in here . . . or Ron . . . thought Ginny, desperately trying to wriggle away. If they found them like this, what would she say? To struggle was useless, only seeming to make it worse, she mused. And, what was really giving her the creeps--or was it something else?--was the awareness that she didn't really mind it. Yes, she didn't mind it at all. In fact, a small part of her was enjoying it. The other part of her mind, though, was yelling at her brain that the person who was kissing her was Draco Malfoy.

When the boy finally left her lips and started to kiss her jaw and then her neck, Ginny managed to regain her sanity, and screamed into his ear as loudly as she could, 'MALFOY! WAKE UP AND GET OFF ME RIGHT NOW!' This seemed get through to him, because Draco stopped. A moment later a pair of grey eyes were staring at her, his pale face showing astonishment.

'What--' he drawled. The loud slap that she delivered to his face seconds later prevented him saying anything else. Ginny pushed him off her with all her strength and stood up quickly; she smoothed down her robes, still glaring at him with a look of pure and utter rage. Then, she ran away.

Draco put one hand to his slapped cheek and stared at the wall, blinking. He felt a shiver running down his spine.

Author's Note:

Here it is, chapter seven is finished! I'm sorry for the delay, but I've had a lot of things happening in my life since last update.

Ezmeralda: Yeah, Draco is much like Lucius. He's not the "redeemed Draco" all mushy and nice. He's still himself, but is changed. I hope that I've made him look real, but still IC. Big hope, huh?

livy: thank you for the three reviews! I'm happy you're enjoying the story :). The best part is yet to come, though ;) just keep listening to this chann. . . ops, wrong line . . . I was meaning, just keep reading this story!

hpfanmelissa: err . . . it's not a nice thing to read in a review . . . but probably it's my fault, because I don't update frequently. So, to keep it short, Draco was running away from Dementors, because he's wanted for his family being composed by Death Eaters. Harry saves his life and Draco finds himself living with the fantastic trio, Sirius and Ginny, and is forced to help them to pay his life's debt. They are looking for info for the Green Torch, because in his seventh year Harry has defeated Voldemort using it but the Dark Lord is returned, therefore it was a useless victory. Now Harry and his group are hiding from Voldemort and Draco is hiding from the ministry.

Anonymous: thank you!