The Dragon's Child Bride

A/N: Hello, m\'dears. It\' so lovely to have more free time to get a chapter out. Please review, because they encourage me to keep going with my story. If you have any suggestions, ideas, or corrections feel free to email me. A big thank you goes out to my beta for her wonderful work.

CHAPTER 17: Getting Back to Normal

The days went by for Laylani quickly. It was nice to be doing something, hell anything, again. She excelled in her classes and was already beating Hermione in her preliminary test scores though she kept it a guarded secret, even from Draco for fear he might use it to taunt Hermione, who prided herself in her academic achievements. Anyhow, Laylani felt that she’d had unfair advantage due to her early years of ‘education,’ so she didn’t put much stock in the grades values. But if anyone asked her how she’d done once the tests were handed back, she’d just tell them ‘fine’ and then put it away.

She still had no uniform. Narcissa had tried to get her one in Diagon Alley, but the store owner hadn’t had a clue what she’d meant when she’d said ‘Morphose.’ She’d had to pull out a signed letter from Dumbledore to prove to him that the house did indeed exist. As it turned out, there was a uniform, but they’d had none on hand because it was so rarely used. They’d had to order away for the material, hunt through their books for the pattern and crest, and all in all the whole process would take at least a month. Until that time, Laylani was given permission to wear her own clothes, so long as she wore the black robe over them.

Classes had been awkward in the beginning. She got lost a lot in between classes if no one was there to guide her. The desks were uncomfortable and the quills were hard as hell to write with which made note taking quite the task. You had to use just the right amount of pressure to write with them; not enough and it wouldn’t write, too much and the ink would bleed all over the page. And they snapped like twigs. It was frustrating for Laylani, who’d used pens and pencils all of her life.

It was strange to have a teacher. She had always learned merely from reading a book and being ‘quizzed.’ It was hard for her to pay attention to the professor instead of just reading through the chapter.

Snape continued to act as though she didn’t exist. He wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t call on her in class, and if he had something to hand back to her, he would give it back with Draco’s when he was called up. In the beginning, she tried to force him to acknowledge her by asking questions, spilling ingredients, even tried blatantly helping Neville Longbottom with his potions. And for her trouble she got nothing. No shouting, no detention, not even the withering glare he so freely gave to everyone else. After a week she gave up, resigning herself to be forever more ignored.

But that aside, Laylani loved it. The whole school experience was remarkable to her and she was keen to be apart of it. She was never late for class, always the last to leave the room and studied eagerly, though she knew most of it. The only part she didn’t enjoy as much was when demonstrations were asked for. Laylani was not one for the public eye anymore than she had to be; years of trying not to be seen made for a hard habit to break.

She had her first presentation in Charms class at the beginning of her second week. It was rather impromptu for her, but the class had been working on it as a project from early December. The idea was to work on creating their own charm by making a variation on one of three predetermined types of glamour, levitation, or elemental and then present and explain it to the class. Professor Flitwick had told her on the first day she would not be docked marks if she chose not to participate, but would receive extra credit if she could ‘put something together’ in time. She’d considered not doing it; people had finally begun to stop staring and Laylani didn’t like the idea of returning to it voluntarily. But she decided she was going to have to do it eventually so she could use this as practice while it wouldn’t hurt her grade. She had already had a spell in mind.

Laylani had been nervous when her turn came. Everyone else had done quite well, doing mostly levitation and elementally based spells, like conjuring roses from fire or making books turn pages in front of the reader. The goal of their spells was to work, not necessarily be useful.

She stepped up in front of the class and took a deep shaky breath. It seemed all of a sudden the collar of her robe was a little too tight for comfort…or breathing. She turned to Professor Flitwick.

“Would it be all right if I took the robe off for this?” she whispered. He nodded to her, pleased as anything that this girl was at least trying to perform this difficult task in the space of a week. She undid the robe draped it over a chair. Laylani nervously pulled at the hem of her red sweater while she spoke.

“I need a volunteer for my spell. Anyone?” she cast a quick look around the classroom. No hand went up. Very few people knew this girl, and no one wanted to be the guinea pig for a spell she’d only had a week to concoct. Not even Draco. The professor cleared his throat.

“Very well, Ms. Stanners. I will volunteer for your spell. Please explain it to the class.”

“Okay. Uh, my spell is a variation on glamour. As you all know, glamour spells are used to create the appearance of things that aren’t really there, kind of like a mirage. Most people use them on themselves or others to change appearances, to, I don’t know, turn your hair green or something.” A soft laughter ran through the class. She blushed slightly but continued. “My spell works on the basis of creating things that aren’t there, but not that you can see.” They stared at her blankly. She shook her head slightly and inwardly scolded herself for being so vague. She grimaced.

“That didn’t make much sense. Okay, better idea. I’m going to perform the spell and then I’ll explain it to you; it’ll be easier once you see it.” She went for her wand but thought better of it; she still didn’t have as much control with it as she’d like and it would probably be best not to maim her teacher. She leaned down again to whisper to the little man.

“I’m not going to use my wand for this, alright? Trust me, it’s for the best.” His face lit up at those words.

\"You can do that?\" She nodded. Before Laylani could stop him, he announced it to the class.

“Class, you’ll want to pay attention to this. Ms. Stanners here is going to be performing her spell without a wand! This is an excellent example of what is possible if you work hard and practice often.” Any eyes that had been drifting were once again riveted on her.

‘Shit.’ she thought. She pushed up her sleeves and drew up her concentration. She extended her hand over the man and whispered “Videor Aegrus.”

At first, nothing. The class waited in a nervous silence. Then the little man coughed just once, followed by a sniffle. He went for a handkerchief when he stopped short, resting a hand against his desk. Suddenly, he was coughing and sniffling, barely able to keep himself upright and turning a pale shade of green. The class was in awe.

“Thang you Mth. Thtanners.” he said “Dat wiw be enough.” She nodded and ended the spell. Immediately the coughing and sniffling stopped and the little man perked up considerably. He looked confused, but very pleased all the same. She grinned.

“Professor Flitwick, how did you feel before I cast my spell?”

“Perfectly fine.”

“Could you please describe for the class how you felt after I cast that spell?”

“I, I felt nauseous and achy. My throat hurt, my eyes were watering and my nose was runny.” She nodded, pleased her spell had worked properly.

“That’s my spell. A glamour is really just casting an idea on something. The idea of blond hair, the idea of being muscular, whatever, but it isn’t really there even though you can see it. My spell works on the same principle but it doesn’t cast images, it casts sensory information. I cast the idea that you had the flu. You didn’t, but the idea was there and thus so were the symptoms.” Professor Flitwick beamed at her.

“What a delightful concept! Full marks, Ms. Stanners.” The class applauded and she smiled at them, then hurriedly grabbed her cloak and rushed to return to her seat near the back with Draco. While Professor Flitwick continued with the few other students that remained, Draco slyly pressed a fleeting kiss on her cheek. He wrote on a piece of parchment and passed it to her. It read:

***

‘That was bloody brilliant, Princess. My girl’s a genius!’

***

She smiled and took his hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze. She was proud of herself. Not only had her spell been successful, she’d actually stepped up in front of the class.

The class ended shortly after. Laylani received a few compliments on her spell from her classmates, which pleased her like nothing else. She was finally beginning to feel like she fit in, that there was somewhere in the world that she belonged.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That night she ate dinner at the Gryffindor table. Its house members had seemed to warm up to her a lot faster than those of Slytherin. Not to say she hadn’t made a few acquaintances there, but on the whole she only received scowls from them. Taking a step back from it all, it seemed it was just the way most Slytherins were; she didn’t fault them for it but truth be told, if it weren’t for Draco, she’d spend all her meals with the Gryffindors.

She knew Draco didn’t like her sitting with them, but then again she also knew they didn’t like her sitting with him. From very early on it became extremely clear to her that Draco and her new friends did not like each other. Actually, ‘hated each other with the fiery passions of hell’ was more accurate. Although they tried to remain tolerable when she was in their presence, that hardly ever worked out. It bothered Laylani but she knew she couldn’t change a hatred seven years deep, so she did what she could to alleviate the situation. She kept them apart as much as she could and would abruptly change the subject when one was brought up in conversation with the other.

Draco glanced over to her repeatedly during the meal. He hated it when she chose to sit with them. He hated that she spent any time with them, period. He’d once tried to forbid her to see them, which left him with a door slammed in his face and she’d refused to speak to him for the rest of the day. Draco smirked at the memory despite himself; he should have known better, she was much too opinionated, too fiery to let him try to tell her what to do. It was one of the reasons he loved her so much.

Dinner ended and Draco went to fetch her. They usually spent the three hours between the end of dinner and curfew together if they could, because they rarely got to have any quality time during the rest of the day. They only had three classes together, none of which gave much chance for talking, and then there was Quidditch practice and his duties as Head Boy, not to mention her sessions with Ms. Kerrin.

Laylani waited for him at the end of the table. He kept up his smirk as he took her hand silently and they walked out of the room. Only when they were out of sight and earshot of all the other students did he drop his air of aloofness and gave her a real smile and slung his arm over her shoulder. She was used to this duality by now. Draco had explained to her once that he had an image to maintain, something he’d worked hard to craft since his very first day at Hogwarts, and being publicly affectionate with her in any way other than lustful displays simply didn’t fit in to it. Just more of the Malfoy image she’d had to get used to. It didn’t bother her all that much; he still gave her small gestures of love, just in more furtive ways. If he wanted to be seen as a cold-hearted bastard by everyone else, so be it.

They went to his quarters that night. He gave the password to the painting and they entered. Laylani lit the fire and began to unpack her books from her bag, strewing them over the floor. Most of the time they spent together in the evening was devoted to homework; it had to be done. That night they had an essay for Potions that had to be at least a foot of parchment. ‘Damned parchment’ she thought. If the wizarding world was so knowledgeable, why did they insist on the use of such archaic things?

Draco stood behind her, watching her as she tried to make some headway on the assignment. There was something sexy about watching her work. She would rest her chin in her hand, and bite down gently on her ring finger as the other fingers were splayed over her cheek. Her pinkie finger would begin to tap on the side of her nose when she was confused and her brow would furrow, as if these acts would help the problem become clear. Seeing her so focused was almost intoxicating to him.

“You know, Laylani,” he said chidingly, “Most people like to work at a desk.” He almost always brought that up whenever they did homework. Draco found it queer that she would always set herself up on the floor. She’d even done it once in the library. She made a face at him.

“I’m not most people.” He smiled and set himself up at the desk nearby.

“And I wouldn’t have you any other way.” They worked in quietly for a half hour or so, the only sound coming from the scratching quills. The silence was broken when Laylani’s quill snapped in her furious writing.

“Damn it!” she yelled, throwing it into the fire before it had a chance to drip ink onto her paper. “Why?” she said loudly, throwing her arms out dramatically. “Why oh why can’t wizards just bite the bullet and use pencils? Or at the very LEAST move up to fountain pens?” She turned to Draco with a scowl. “Can you tell me that?” Draco grinned. These little outbursts about the antiquity of the wizarding world’s writing equipment were a common quirk for her. Actually, he thought they were cute.

“No, I’m afraid I can’t. Did you bring another one?” Her shoulders slumped and she sighed.

“No, that was the last one. I packed three this morning, and broke them all.”

“Three? Well, that’s much better then Friday’s five. Congratulations.” Draco got his desired response with that one. A small laugh escaped her.

“You just think you’re so damned charismatic, don’t you?” she said with a smile.

“I know it.” She turned her body so she was looking right at him.

“Well, I’ll have you know I’m on to you mister, and you are not as charming as you think you are.” He leaned back in his chair, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Yes, I am.” They both laughed and she stood up with intents to go sit with him for a few minutes when a crick in her back made her stop short. She winced and rubbed at the tender spot. Draco noticed and got up from his seat to lead her to sit on the couch. He sat down with her and rubbed his hand softly over her back.

“You know, this wouldn’t happen if you would just work at a table. Why do you insist on working on the floor?” Laylani shrugged, not really in the mood to be lectured about her work habits.

“Always have.”

“Did they make you?” She flinched slightly at his reference to the Dark Robes. Ever since he had started to read her notebook, he’d begun to ask questions, sometimes about the smallest things. She knew this was his way of trying to understand her more, so she always tried to oblige him.

“Not so much made me as didn’t offer me any other alternative. It was the only flat surface wherever they kept me.” She felt his hand press more firmly against her back. It upset him to know that she’d been kept in closets and basements, knowing that they beat her and barely fed her. A lot of the things that he was learning about her past upset him.

When he had started reading her notebook, it had been mainly been because of the promised sex. He wasn’t proud of it, but it was true. He’d been under the impression it would be something he could finish in a day or two; after all, she’d only had the notebook for a few weeks, she couldn’t have written that much.

Oh, how wrong he’d been. She’d filled out over four hundred pages of the five hundred page notebook. And in between spending time with her, Quidditch, class, and his duties as Head Boy, he had maybe twenty minutes a day to read. But once he’d begun, Draco had found himself being drawn into her writing, learning more about her from reading a few pages then he had over the past few months. He was shocked at just how many awful things and how much calculated cruelty she’d been exposed to; it amazed him all the more at what a wonderful, strong, sweet young woman she’d become. He felt like he had a better understanding of her for every page he read, and that seemed to put sex secondary… at least, most of the time.

“Do you have a quill I could borrow, Dragon?” He nodded and went into his room to grab one. On second thought, maybe a few. Draco returned to find her comparing their half written essays.

“I thought it was stir four times counter-clockwise.” she said. He sauntered over to her, quills in hand.

“Indeed it is, pet. Why do you ask?” Laylani held out his essay.

“You have it here as clockwise.” He grabbed it out of her hands. He couldn’t be wrong. Potions had always been his best class and he was consistently the top student. But there it was, plain as day: clockwise. He pulled out his wand and corrected it hurriedly.

He didn’t thank her for pointing out the error and she didn’t want him to. Instead they returned to their work wordlessly. Draco was extremely proud of how smart she was and how well she was doing in her classes. Maybe just a touch jealous, but he tried not to let it bother him. Despite what Laylani thought, he was quite aware of how she was doing in her classes. He’d seen her hidden tests one night, by pure chance. She’d left her bag at his place one evening and he was going to return it to her when the stitching ripped from the bottom, spilling the bag’s contents everywhere. He’d fixed the bag with a simple spell and was putting her things back when he came upon her tests from various classes, almost all of them perfect. He was curious as to why she hadn’t told him, or anybody. If he’d been doing so well, the first thing he would have done was attach his grades to the mudblood’s face. However, he assumed there was a reason she was keeping the information to herself so he replaced her things and returned her bag, never saying a word about what he’d seen.

The couple had been working quietly for nearly twenty minutes when she stood up again, stretching like a cat. From where he sat, Draco could hear her joints and spine cracking and popping in protest of her movements. She walked over to him and took the quill out of his hands and laid it down off to the side. She pushed away his essay and settled herself on his lap. Without explanation she kissed him. Laylani pulled away with a grin and said quietly “Time for a break.”

He was just about to return her kiss with one of his own when the side door opened. Draco leaned his head back against the wall, rolling his eyes and sighing loudly.

“Wow, Granger, has anyone ever told you what an impeccable sense of timing you have?” The voice that spoke next was not Hermione’s; it was distinctly male.

“Lani, we were all going down to Hagrid’s for a little while before curfew. I was just wondering if you might like to join us?” It was that damned Harry Potter. Draco scowled at the intrusion, pulling Laylani slightly closer to himself. She turned down his offer, saying she still had to finish her essay. Potter seemed to be angered by this, but said nothing to that effect.

“Maybe next time, then.” he said quietly, and closed the door to Hermione’s quarters.

Draco made to resume kissing her but she was distracted, still staring at the door where Potter had just left. What the hell was this?

“Lani?”

“Hmm?” She turned her head to him but her eyes continued to rest on the door.

“Something the matter, love?”

“No, nothing.” she said, her gaze dropping to her fidgeting hands in her lap. He tipped up her chin so he could see her face. She looked perturbed.

“Liar. What’s wrong?” She shrugged.

“It’s nothing, really. It’s just…does Harry seem sad to you?” Draco smirked.

“In so many ways.” She pushed lightly at his shoulder.

“No, I mean, does he seem unhappy?” Draco sighed in frustration. It would be the subject of Potter that would take up his snogging time.

“I don’t know, I don’t spend too much of my time trying to gauge Scarhead’s feelings.” She rolled her eyes at Draco’s childish nickname for Harry.

“It’s just, sometimes I catch him staring in class, and he looks so sad it makes my heart break for him.” Draco’s jaw clenched.

“Staring at you?” he asked tersely. Laylani cocked her head to the side thoughtfully.

“No. At least, I don’t think so. Why does that matter?” Draco’s lips were pressed into a firm line, and his eyes narrowed.

“That prat would be staring at you like some lovesick puppy.” Draco grumbled, hands clenching the arms of his chair. Laylani grinned and feigned surprise.

“Why my darling Draco, I do believe you’re jealous!”

“I’m not jealous!” he huffed. She smiled at him knowingly. “I’m not.” he said firmly. “A Malfoy does not get jealous, especially not of a ponce like him.”

“Well, it’s a good thing they don’t,” she said patronizingly, “Especially when they have nothing to be jealous of.”

“Potter has wanted to have his way with you since he first laid eyes on you. If he looks sad it’s because he knows he can’t have you.” Draco sneered. “Not that he wouldn’t try.” Laylani laughed.

“Harry does not have a crush on me.” He scoffed, but she continued. “And even if he did, it wouldn’t matter; I love you more than life itself. I would never want to be with anyone else.” She kissed him softly and a smile began to force its way through his determined frown. “Now, how about we get back to our study break?”

Draco thought that was a very good idea.

He pulled her into the first of many passionate kisses. Draco’s tongue slid into her willing mouth, exploring it as if he were planning to chart it out. She clutched herself to him, ignoring her cramped body’s protests to their awkward arrangement causing her joints to make more ‘snap’ and ‘pop’ sounds. They continued for the next few minutes until her confined muscles were practically screaming their need to move into a different position. She pulled away from his kiss.

“We should get back to work. I still have another half foot of parchment to write.” Draco didn’t want to let her go, but he knew Snape would have their heads on platters their essays weren\'t finished. Especially if the only excuse they had to offer was that they got carried away making out. He grimaced as she climbed off his lap and moved back to her work on the floor with the quills he’d brought her. In the next hour and a half, she only broke one of them.

With their essays finally done, Draco called for another study break. Not that they had anything to break from but any excuse to snog was a good enough for him. She was about to crawl into his lap again when he stopped her.

“My study break, my rules; I say we’re using the sofa. I don’t want to have to listen to another symphony of your musical joints.”

She blushed a little but followed his lead onto the couch. He lay down first and she quickly covered his body with her own, engaging in the same passionate kissing from where they had left off earlier. Soon enough he had her divested of her sweater and she had already removed his cumbersome tie and was unbuttoning his shirt. With that done Laylani pushed the material open and began to run her fingers over her fiancé’s well-defined chest. She placed a few kisses and light nips arbitrarily on his smooth pale flesh. She delighted at his sharp intake of breath when her teeth grazed his erect nipple.

Draco knew he needed to be closer to her, needed to remove the thin barrier of her blouse and full length skirt and feel her skin. Without thinking he made to roll over onto her, which ended up with them falling off the couch and landing in a heap of limbs. As they pulled themselves apart and tried to rub some comfort into their pained bodies, Draco made a decision.

“Okay, new rule. From now on all breaks take place on the bed.” He stood up and helped Laylani to her feet. With a wolfish grin, Draco swooped down and picked her up over his shoulder before she had a chance to stop him. She gave a childish yelp and began to giggle as he carried her into the bedroom. He gently set her down on the dark green cover to his bed before climbing over her body to lie beside her. He managed to flick open the buttons to her blouse with one hand, slowly but surely baring her skin to his view. He urged her to sit up while he slipped the shirt off of her and for a moment just looked her over, thinking back to when she’d first come back to him.

Her skin was still the same shade of pale as it was then, but now had a healthy glow. Laylani no longer looked sallow and so sickeningly emaciated, instead she’d filled out nicely everywhere; eating regularly had given her gentle curves to her body like an hourglass instead of the stick she had been. Her green eyes were no longer so glassy or fearful like that first morning and in its place there was more love than he’d known was possible for someone to feel until he did himself. When he’d first seen her that late October, he’d thought she had looked like an angel, untouchable ethereal perfection with her dark hair spread out like a halo. But over the months, she’d somehow ended up here in his bed, with a loving smile just for him; maybe not an angel, but most definitely angelic. A princess.

“Would you like to be alone with your thoughts?” she teased. He was tempted to tell her just what those thoughts were about but somehow, he was pretty sure she already knew that they were about her. Most of his thoughts were. Draco began to stroke her hair away from her face and he leaned in until his lips were just millimeters away from her own.

“No, just with you.” he answered with a warm smile, no hint of his usual smirk. Before he could lean down, she lifted her head and pressed the fiercest of kisses to his lips. He cupped her chin in his hand and lowered his head so hers could rest on the pillow beneath it.

Draco felt her nails scratch stinging red marks into his lily-white skin as her hands fumbled blindly to slide his shirt of his broad shoulders and toned arms. He was almost free of his shirt when it refused to slip off his wrists. He hadn’t unbuttoned the cuffs and he was sorely regretting it now. He tried to pull it off without breaking their kiss, but that proved unsuccessful. So he pulled back slightly trying to remove it. No good. Then he sat up fully, trying to right his shirt so he could undo the buttons, but he got himself twisted in it. Laylani began to giggle. Finally he gave up and wrenched at the shirt until the stitching holding the buttons on gave way, landing them across the room with the damnable shirt following. He was almost panting with the effort and his gaze returned to the form emitting that musical laughter. His eyes narrowed.

“Oh, you think that\'s funny, do you?” She shook her head frantically but couldn’t stop laughing. He smirked. Revenge was his.

“I’ll show you funny.” She scrambled backwards but there was nowhere to go. She shrieked and tried to get away but Draco straddled her, his weight pinning her down as he began to tickle her mercilessly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Meanwhile, darker interactions were taking place.

Mari had practically gone mad during the week, trying to decide what was the right thing to do with the new information she had about the girl. There was no point in telling Laylani, at least not yet. The words ‘Voldemort’ and ‘Death Eaters’ wouldn’t mean much to her and she may try to do something rash. The way Mari saw it; she had three options which didn’t offer much of a choice. She could inform the Malfoys as they were her legal guardians and technically had the right to know, but it their allegiances to the Dark Lord were no secret in the wizarding world, and they could put Laylani in even more danger. She could tell the Aurors who may be able to protect her, but currently those under Auror security had a funny habit of disappearing, then turning up dead days later; somewhere in their ranks, Voldemort had an informer. Her last option was to betray Laylani’s trust entirely and tell Headmaster Dumbledore. Although it was unofficial, it was common knowledge that he was head of the Order of Phoenix, and he was probably the only man who might be able to keep Laylani alive and safe.

After many sleepless nights, Mari finally chose the lesser evil and arranged for a meeting with Dumbledore. It troubled her deeply to betray Laylani’s confidence like this. Her utmost fear about attending school had been that someone would find out about her past, and there was no way that Mari could explain the severity of the situation to Dumbledore without revealing at least part of it. Mari could only hope that she was doing what was best for the girl.

Her meeting with Dumbledore took place late that evening in the empty Great Hall. She fidgeted nervously in her chair leaving her tea and biscuits untouched, and wondered again if this was really the right thing to do. Not that it mattered, there was no turning back now; something had to be done to keep Laylani out of His clutches.

“Ms. Kerrin,” His voice startled her out of her thoughts. “I trust you are here on Ms. Stanners behalf. How may I be of help?” Dumbledore spoke serenely, assuming this meeting would concern a scholastic problem. He was unprepared for what was said next.

“I’m sure you’re aware of Laylani’s disappearance when she was young. It was always assumed that the culprits were muggles because of the nature of her father’s death.” The guilt was already twisting her insides. “Please understand this isn’t easy for me to break her confidence, she has such horrible trust issues. I’ve thought this over for several days, and this seems to be my only choice… When she first came to me, she told me of being chained inside locked closets and basements and viciously beaten by men in robes, but that was about it. She was always quite vague. After about a month or so of sessions, she began to open up more. She revealed to me that they were teaching her, forcing her to learn magic through daily study and severe consequences. She was on par with an average first year at the age of seven. By the time she escaped…well, I suppose I don’t need to tell you what a wealth of knowledge she has. She told me she was having dreams, dreams about what had happened to her. One memory in particular seemed to plague her, of when she was first taken. She said she was on a rock in the middle of a fire surrounded by the hooded figures. They started chanting and then the shadows pulled up from the ground and made the form of a man in front of her. It looked through her mind and told her she’s the chosen one.” She paused to take a breath.

“As you can gather, this is obviously not the work of muggles. However, it wasn’t until recently that she’s given me any definite indication of who her kidnappers were. About a week ago, she sent me this note.” Mari handed the paper to Dumbledore. He read it over, his brow furrowing.

“I see.” Mari opened her bag and pulled out the book.

“I’m ashamed to say I didn’t see it before this. I should have known.” She tried to hand him the book to read the prophecy but he waived it off with a frown. He already knew its words by heart.

“I’m aware of that prophecy. Those of us in the Order have been making efforts to find this child for almost ten years. We held the hope that if we could find them first, things could change…” Mari nearly dropped the book, she was so shocked.

“You mean to say that you knew this prophecy,” Mari slammed the book against the table for emphasis, “Have known of Laylani’s existence for weeks, she’s attended your very school AND YOU DIDN’T RECOGNIZE HER?” She had risen off of her seat and was talking so loudly her voice echoed throughout the Hall. Mari calmed herself quickly, but continued. “How could you not? She has all the signs, the talent, the ability…” She left that sentence unfinished, her silent mouth gaping at the old wizard, waiting for some sort of answer. The wrinkled skin of his face blushed a faint pink. He spoke quietly.

“We thought it would be a boy.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Somehow, as they always seemed to, Draco and Laylani’s tickle fight ended up with them making out, stroking skin and gazing lovingly at each other as if they had all the time in the world. So much time in fact, that it wasn’t until quarter to eleven that they realized Laylani should\'ve gone back to her room forty-five minutes ago. It was now well past curfew and prefects were out patrolling the halls, not to mention Filch and Mrs. Norris.

Laylani rushed to get her things together, trying to figure out the best way to get back to her room that had the least likely chance of getting caught. She muttered to herself as she busily collected her papers off the floor.

“Shit, shit, shit. That’s all I need, to get detention from some stupid fifth year on a power trip while leaving my boyfriend’s private room almost an hour after curfew.” Draco strolled out of his bedroom still wearing only his trousers. He dropped down behind her, reaching around her and taking her hands in his, making her drop her things. He wrapped their arms around her body and he nuzzled her cheek

“Then don’t leave.” He lifted her hair and began placing soft wet kisses along the column of her neck. She tilted her head and let herself melt into his embrace. Would it be that bad to play hooky from being the good schoolgirl for one night?

Draco took her silence as agreement. He stood up, effectively bringing her with him and he guided them into the bedroom. She disentangled herself from him and walked around to the other side of Draco’s queen-sized bed (courtesy of his father) and pulled back the covers. Draco had already taken off his pants and was climbing into bed when he saw that she had stopped moving.

“What do I sleep in?” she asked. His face of contentment turned into one of hopefulness.

“Nothing?” he asked eagerly. She shook her head.

“Try again.”

“Damn.” he sighed. “Alright, I’ll grab you something.” Draco went into his closet, digging through clothes, trying to find something suitable for her to sleep in. After a minute or two he found a black silk pajama top he’d never worn. He brought it out of the closet and tossed it to her.

“Is that better, princess?” She grinned.

“Much.” She turned her back to him and took off her sweater and blouse and slipped on the large shirt. It hung low on her, nearly touching her knees. She pulled down the zipper and undid the clasp to her skirt, which fell around her ankles. Laylani unclasped her bra and shrugged it off her shoulders, pulling her arms out of the straps before pulling it out of the sleeve and setting it neatly with her other clothes.

Laylani climbed into bed with her fiancé and crawled over to him, laying her head on his chest. Draco put his arms around her and thought to himself that this is the way things should always be. They should share a bed every night. His days always went that much better when she was the first person he saw when he woke up and the last one before he fell asleep. Not only that, but he never slept as well when she wasn’t there.

He felt her look up to him and he turned to look into her eyes.

“Goodnight, Dragon.” she whispered, lifting her head and giving him a quick kiss.

“Goodnight, love.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was almost midnight. Harry dropped his head, sighing softly. She wasn’t coming out. He’d been waiting outside Draco’s portrait since 9:30 in his invisibility cloak. He’d planned on confronting her tonight, to find out just how and why the Malfoys were forcing her to marry Draco. He wanted to find out who was hurting her so that he could have the pleasure of killing them slowly as punishment. He’d planned to declare his feelings for her and his unwavering dedication to rescue her from her terrible fate. But it seemed it was not in the cards for tonight. He’d either missed her, which he highly doubted, or she was spending the night there, the implications of which he didn’t want to think about.

Harry made his way up the stairs to get back to Gryffindor tower. Crossing the over the main floor to the next stairwell, he heard voices. Harry closed his eyes tightly, praying these voices were not again coming from the walls like second year, and that there was a rational explanation for this. Luckily for him there was. At least one of the voices was familiar and they were coming from within the Great Hall.

Harry leaned towards the crack between the two doors, trying to see just who it was. At the far end of the Hall sat Dumbledore and a woman whom at first he’d thought was Professor Sprout, but then she spoke and her voice was a stranger to his ear. He didn’t know this woman. He began to listen, trying to figure out just what they were talking so heatedly about. The woman spoke first.

“What are we going to do, then?” Dumbledore sat silently for a moment, letting the ominous question just hang in the air. Harry could hear the old man exhale slowly.

“I shall inform the members of the Order, and perhaps the staff, but other than that, I don’t think there is anything to be done for now.”

“We can’t just do nothing,” railed the small woman. “I could have bloody well done nothing on my own! I broke confidence so you would be able to protect her!”

‘Her?’ thought Harry. ‘Her who?’ Dumbledore tried to calm the woman.

“What else would you have me do? The girl is not in any immediate danger, and treating her as if she was will only draw His attentions. Perhaps He’s not even aware of her return; she’s shown no indication that she is being called. For now, Hogwarts is the safest place for her to be. Until He attempts to contact her, the Order and I hope yourself as well, will simply watch over her.” The woman’s shoulders slumped.

“So what you’re saying is that we wait until it’s too late, then.” Dumbledore shook his head.

“Not at all, I’m saying we wait until she shows signs that the calling has begun before we have to change her life. She’s already been through so much; the least we can do is give her as much normality as possible.” The little woman shook her head.

“The girl is too secretive. If and when the calling begins, she will hide the signs. It still takes her days to be truly forthcoming with me. The only one she confides in is……Oh, dear.”

“Is young Draco Malfoy, I presume? Then perhaps he shall have to be informed.”

“Absolutely not, Professor Dumbledore! You know as well as I do where that family’s allegiances lie!” Dumbledore nodded.

“Indeed I do. However, over the last few weeks I have seen him becoming more and more his own man, and less his father’s son, and I believe this is her influence. I think, if only for her sake, he would be willing make alliances with us.”

“And your willing to risk not only her life, but all of wizarding kind because of your hopes of change in some power-hungry Malfoy?” she spat accusingly.

“No, but I am willing to let him prove what kind of man he wishes to become before we condemn him to be his father!” That was the closest Harry had ever seen of Dumbledore yelling, and he was doing it in defense of that pompous prick? The two sat silently for a moment.

“Alright.” said the woman quietly. “I will inform you if she gives me any relevant information. However, the instant she begins to shows any signs, I want her hidden away so well that not even the sun will find her. I leave it to you to see if you can’t find something better in the Malfoy boy.”

“Agreed.”

The woman stood up and gathered her things. She gave Dumbledore a slight bow of respect and began marching quickly towards where Harry hid behind the door. He quickly moved to the side and narrowly missed being squished as she swung the door open, with Dumbledore at her heels to see her to the door. As soon as they were out of sight, Harry bolted for the stairwell that would lead him to Gryffindor tower.

The common room was thankfully empty so Harry hurried to his bedroom, divesting himself quickly and climbing into his small bed. He pulled the hangings around him silently, to give him as much privacy as he could have to think about what he’d just seen.

No matter how many times he ran the scene over in his head, it seemed to make no sense. He gathered it was about Laylani, but that was the most he’d gotten. After twenty minutes of staring up at his canopy, he gave up and decided sleep would be best. After all, he was a key part of the Order, surely they would let him in on this. But even if they didn’t, he resolved to find out. If it was to keep Laylani safe, he would be a part of it.

By hook or by crook, Harry James Potter was determined to find out exactly what was going on.