The Dragon's Child Bride

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Midterms and term papers and whatnot....oh my! Anyway, it is up, and I am pleased. Thanks go out to Megan for the great beta work.

Chapter 30:

The meeting of the Order of Phoenix had let out not long after Draco had left. Members of the Order flooed out and returned to their quarters respectively.

The moment Draco had left, the trio glanced to one another, deciding silently that this was something that needed to be investigated. Not one of them trusted him. How could they? Really, how could anyone? He was Malfoy. Ron and Harry had said those words on several occasions as if it explained everything. Only Hermione had a few quiet doubts she wisely chose to keep to herself.

Curiosity piqued, they were the first to the stairs the moment the meeting was closed, leaving behind Ginny, who’d never been privy to their collective brain.

She walked back to the Tower alone in a bit of a fog. Harry had held her hand, purposely. Just the thought put a silly grin on her face and made her toes curl. She let out a dreamy sigh and spun around in girlish delight. Harry had held her hand!

She entered the Tower, immediately darting for her room in hopes of sharing her wonderful news with her roommates, but alas, no one was there. Returning to the common room, she sat in wait for Harry to return, gamely striking up a conversation with Colin Creevey, a friend in her year.

They were in the middle of a heated debate concerning the superiority, or lack thereof, of the Chudley Cannons when the Fat Lady’s portrait creaked opens and Ron, Hermione, and Harry entered the common room. Hermione and Ron headed towards the stairs, while Harry seemed to linger at their base.

“Coming Harry?”

“Er, I, uh-” What was he to do? They always met in his room after Order meetings. Always, ever since the first meeting they’d attended in Grimmauld Place. His eyes cut back to Ginny and she smiled that same smile she’d given him in Dumbledore’s office. He wanted to stay and sit with Ginny, really he did, but then what? He hadn’t thought that far ahead. What if she wanted to - to talk? What would he say to her? Panic rose within him. What would she want to talk about? What should he say? Would she want some sort of declaration of intent? Of love? He hadn’t thought that far ahead, not at all. In fact, he’d pretty much completed his entire plan thus far that morning. What was he supposed to do next? He needed time to think, to plan. He didn’t want to muck it up like he had with Cho back in fifth year. “Yeah.” he answered. “I’m coming.”

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

Draco stood helplessly amid the devastation she’d made of her room. He didn’t know a single cleaning charm. Why should he? He was a Malfoy and there were house elves to deal with these things.

“Are they gone?” He turned to see her poking her head out of the bedroom, still wiping her eyes.

“Yes, they’ve left.”

She stepped out from behind the wall and came to stand next to him. “I’m- I’m sorry Draco.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. She was angry with herself for letting her temper get away with her, but she was angrier still that she wasn’t sorry, not really. It had felt good to be that mad, to get all that frustration and tension out of her system.

He put his arm around her. “It’s alright. I’ll send for some house elves.”

“I’ll clean up. Don’t bother them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lani, this is what they live for.” He felt her tense.

“I’m not ridiculous.”

He sighed. “Of course not, love. I’m merely saying-” She pulled away from him.

“Why am I always ridiculous? Why is everything I want ridiculous?” The room shook as her temper built.

“Alright! Alright, you aren’t ridiculous. You want to clean the room, go ahead!”

“Fine, I will!” The tremors grew to a peak and then stopped.

“Fine!” Draco sat back on the sofa, staring her down defiantly. If she wanted to clean up after herself like a peasant, that was her own business. He was a Malfoy, and Malfoys were better than that.

She scowled at him. He could at least offer to help. As if reading her thoughts, he crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk. With a huff, she turned her back to him, analyzing the extent of the damage she’d done.

It was bad. Furniture was overturned, pictures flung off the wall, her mantle clock lay smashed on the floor on the opposite side of the room. She had her work cut out for her.

With a deep frown she decided to start at one end of the room and work her way across. She started at the far end of the room near the portrait hole, where a long line of shattered picture frames lay face down. She closed her eyes. What was the spell? Think, think. She sighed loudly. Concentrating made her headache worse. What was a good repairing spell?

Wait a moment…repairing….repair…reparo! That was it. She could use a reparo spell. It wouldn’t be perfect, but they would get the job done until she could think of something better.

Alright, reparo. That was one half down. She would need to make it specific to the glass of the frames though. Glass was…was…vi-something…vit? Vit…Dammit! What was it? She hadn’t noticed her hand had come up to her face until her little finger was tapping her nose and she was biting on her ring finger. Vit…Vitrum! That was it!

Extending her arm she cast the charm. “Vitrum reparo.” The frames shuddered as the broken bits of glass swept along the floor, underneath the wood siding to recreate the pane. When the frames stilled, she bent down and carefully lifted the one closest to her.

It wasn’t perfect, far from it. There were fissures in the glass from where it had broken, not to mention many scrapes from the stone floor. Still, it would do until she could think of something better. Lifting the rather large frame, she fumblingly managed to hang it back on the wall. In short order, she’d done the same with the others.

Things progressed rather quickly from there. She righted most of the overturned furniture by hand and fixed the clock as well as most of the remaining picture frames. There was one left, lying on the floor near her fireplace. It was the picture of her and Draco that Lucius had taken before they’d left for the Yule Ball.

She dropped to her knees next to the frame, picking it up and turning it over in her hands. She’d broken the glass to where there were only shards around the edges, held in by the frame. Tears welled in her eyes and she silently admonished herself not to cry. Of all the things she’d broken in her fit, the picture as well as its frame was probably the least expensive and the easiest to repair.

Still, it was such a lovely memory and they had been so happy. Everything had been so much easier then. She ran her thumb down the smooth picture, tracing where her hand rested over his heart, and a hot sting shot along her skin, staining the photo with a smear of blood. Pulling her hand away, she could see the small piece of glass that embedded itself between their photo images. ‘How symbolic.’ she thought.

Laylani turned her hand to look at the cut on her thumb. It stung like hell and chased away those unfilled tears. Physical pain she knew like an old friend. It was almost a comfort to have a pain she could understand. God knew it might be the only thing she did understand anymore.

It was then Draco, who up until that point had contented himself to sit back and watch, got up to see what held her interest.

“I’ll get you another one.”

“I don’t want another one.” She said firmly, getting up off her knees.

“Fine.” He watched her set the broken frame, blood and all, back to its place of honor on her mantle. She took a step back to look at it. “Aren’t you going to fix the glass?” She shook her head. “At least get rid of the blood.”

“No. I like it like this.” He shrugged, knowing that once the house elves cleaned her quarters, they would repair it perfectly, just as they would everything else. They were not happy unless things were meticulous. They would have a conniption when they saw the state of her room.

He looked at the work she’d done. The picture frames were lined unevenly along the walls, the glass still cracked and scraped, papers lay in hurried piles on the floor, the furniture was skewed, and the second hand of the clock was jammed.

He turned back to her. “You’re a lousy house elf.” he teased. Laylani frowned. Up until then, she’d been rather pleased with herself. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but she’d gotten it done, which was more than she could say for most things this past week.

“Well…you’re a lousy boyfriend.”

“What?”

“A good boyfriend would have helped.” Draco bristled.

“A good girlfriend would have listened when I told her that a professional would take care of it.”

“I don’t have to listen to everything you say!”

“Oh, but I have to get involved in your asinine endeavors?”

“Cleaning a room is not an asinine endeavour!” she yelled. “Hard as it may be for you to believe Draco, but the day may come where no one is waiting on you hand and foot and there’ll be nobody to take care of you but yourself!”

Fuming, Draco had half a mind to point out to her exactly who was waiting on whom hand and foot, and who the one that was being taken care of was. The coupled scowled fiercely at each other.

Draco was first to break the angry silence. “Give me your hand.” He said tersely.

“No.”

“For Christ’s sake Laylani, you’re bleeding.” She turned her palm up to look at the thin trickle of blood that ran across it; she’d forgotten all about her thumb. With a dramatic sigh, she stretched out her hand to him. He drew his wand and muttered the healing spell, the wound sealing. Using another to remove the blood, he reflexively brought her hand to his lips and kissed her thumb. The gentle gesture made her soften.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed softly. “You’re a very good boyfriend. The best.” With a smirk, he pulled her close.

“You’d better believe it.” He laughed as she glared up at him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re a very good girlfriend.\"

“No I’m not. I’m a mess.” She sighed. “Draco, what am I going to do about your mother?”

“I suppose you’d start by apologizing.”

“Great. I can see it now. ‘Dear Narcissa, Sorry about that fit I threw and for calling you, among other things, fucking stupid.” Draco frowned, disliking that she’d spoken in such a manner to his mother, but for now that was beside the point.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“Well, I’d give her a few days to cool off first.” Laylani nodded, her expression full of sorrow. How could she have done such a thing to Narcissa of all people, when she had done so much for her? Eager to reassure her, Draco quickly added “Don’t worry Princess; everything will be fine, I promise.”

She nodded again, wondering if this might be a promise he couldn’t keep.

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

He walked her back to her rooms after dinner like he normally did, surprised to find Lavender Brown standing outside her portrait. He’d was nearly certain he’d seen her heading in the direction of Gryffindor tower with the rest of the rabble after dinner.

“Lav!” Laylani called. She didn’t respond so Laylani tried again. “Lavender!”

She looked up with a scowl on her face that was immediately replaced with a peculiar smile.

“Hi!” she called.

“Hi Lav.” Lavender turned to Draco, smiling sweetly.

“Hi Draco.”

“Erm, Lavender.” There was a moment of silence while Lavender seemed to stare at Draco. “At the risk of sounding rude Brown, what are you doing here?”

“Draco!” Laylani said incredulously, elbowing him lightly.

“What? It’s a fair question.” Lavender laughed awkwardly.

“Of course it is! I was just- just coming to see you!” She gestured to Laylani, still looking at Draco. “I was going to wait in your room, but I couldn’t get in.”

“Oh! I just changed the password.” Laylani stepped up to the portrait and said clearly “Follow the yellow brick road.” The portrait swung open and it suddenly occurred to Laylani, when did Lav ever know her password? She shrugged and stepped through the doorway with Lavender. Draco stayed outside.

“Aren’t you coming, love?”

“No, I think you have enough company already. I’ll pick you up before breakfast, alright?”

“Alright. Goodnight, Draco.”

“Goodnight, love.” Draco leaned in and kissed her. He walked away and Laylani closed her portrait with a smile.

“That was disgusting.” Laylani turned to Lavender.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing!” Lavendar said brightly. “So how are you?”

“Um, I’m fine. How are you?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, Lav, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just…I’ve been hearing some things. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Intrigued, if not a bit concerned, Laylani asked, “What have you been hearing?” Lav always did love to share gossip.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” she repeated, “I just thought you’d like to know that people are talking. About you. Well, you and Draco, really.”

Laylani sat back in her chair. “Oh?”

“They’re saying he’s cheating on you.” Laylani felt like she’d just taken a blow to the face.

“Wha- Who’s saying that?”

“Oh, lots of people. They say that he’s been seeing loads of girls since you got here, that you’re only putting up with it because you can’t do any better. In the bathroom, girls talk about how much they pity you for-”

“Lavender! Why are you saying these things?”

“I’m just trying to be a good friend!” she said with that same funny smile. “Good friends tell each other when people talk about them behind their back. I mean, I’d want someone to tell me if my boyfriend were cheating on me with half the school.”

“He’s not cheating on me, and certainly not with half the school.” Lavender gave her a pitying, guilty look, much like the one Arianna, and perhaps a few other girls, had given her during the last week.

“Of course he’s not.”

“Lav, you’ll have to excuse me, but I think it would be best if you left.” Lavender seemed to perk up at this.

“I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Laylani waved her off.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Laylani heard the portrait close in the background.

People were talking about her? Pitying her? No doubt laughing at her, too. She’d nearly been able to forget her worries and suspicions this weekend; Draco had been so loving and attentive. But reality had come crashing in. Was it true? Was he cheating on her, making a fool out of her in front of everyone?

God, she needed a drink.

She crossed to her desk, disappointed to find less than half a bottle of wine left. How had she drank so much in the space of a week? She sighed, leaning heavily against the desk. Half a bottle of wine wouldn’t chase away her miseries.

Wait a minute…today was Sunday. In theory, Lucius should have sent her more liquor. Hoping against hope, she slowly crept towards the fireplace, as if to sneak up on it.

It was there! She grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey and uncorked it, not bothering to take the rest out from the hearth, and took a long drink.

Outside, it started to rain.

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

It was just before two when a furious roll of thunder woke him. Rubbing his bleary eyes clear, Draco looked out his small window, surprised to see a violent storm raging loudly outside. It must have been fierce; normally little of the outside world could be heard in the depths of the castle.

Processing that, his thoughts immediately turned to Laylani. She must be scared to death. Why hadn’t she come to his rooms? She always had. Though he could hardly imagine being able to explain her running about the halls in a panic so late at night to any member of the Order. But still, she should have.

Prying himself from the warm comfort of his bed, he slipped on a pair of trousers and a shirt, the uniform he’d doffed only hours before. He checked to make sure the hall was empty and silent before he stepped into, letting the portrait fall closed behind him.

As he walked through the darkened empty halls, his mind quickly ran through the possibilities of why she wouldn’t have come to him on a night such as this. He’d become rather good at forming and discarding possibilities about her at a moment’s notice. Thus far, the most likely and logical answer, barring any sort of attack from Death Eaters which he refused to think about, was that she didn’t think she should. Since she’d arrived in January there had been no storms, at least none of enough magnitude to wake her. They really hadn’t established any sort of procedure in that case, and he could imagine she’d assume it was inappropriate for her to run to his bed for protection in school despite the number of nights she’d already spent there.

Her hall seemed darker than the others, but perhaps that was because he knew it hid more than the others. Somewhere in the shadows hid an invisible member of the Order of Phoenix. He whispered the password to her portrait. Stepping through, he called over his shoulder “She’s afraid of storms.” as way of explanation. He was not asking permission, damned whoever might be out there.

The first thing he noticed was the chill of the room. Unlike his room in the depths of the castle, her end of the castle was more exposed to the elements and he could hear the whistle of the wind where the stones of the wall didn’t quite meet, feel the chill where the warming charms didn’t quite cover. With no fire in the hearth of her living room, nor did there appear to be one in her bedroom, she must have been freezing. He didn’t see the opened bottle of firewhiskey on her coffee table, hidden in the night.

Maneuvering through the darkness, Draco crossed into the bedroom where her bed lay empty and untouched, and a small amount of light crept out from underneath the bathroom door. He knocked on it softly.

“Laylani?” There was a moment of silence before her meek response.

“Go away.”

He turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, despite her weak attempt to keep it closed.

She sat on the tile floor entirely naked beside a pile of her clothes. Her knees pulled up against her chest and her arms wrapped around them, ducking her head into the hollow between.

“Laylani?”

Slowly she looked up.

He gasped. “Merlin Laylani, what the hell…?”

Her face was masked with scars, marring the features he knew. There was a thick raised one that ran vertically along the left side of her face from hairline to jawbone, a thin white one that ran through both her red lips, another hollowed over her right eyebrow. The rest of her face was flush with faded scars, simple red and purple marks across her skin. Stepping closer, he could see raised flesh on her back, what could only be more scars.

He was staring, she could feel his eyes on her, looking at her but not seeing her. His face was shocked, disgusted even. Finally his eyes returned to hers, incredulous and expectant, and she spoke.

“They’re ...” God, what could she tell him?

“They’re what exactly?”

“They’re not real. I was just…I don’t know, I was thinking about them and then, then they were here and-” her voice dropped to a whisper, “I can’t get rid of them.”

Stretching out one leg, she pushed the door closed, revealing her reflection in the full length mirror that hung on the back of it. “It’s what I used to look like.” Draco was quiet for a moment.

“Stand up.”

“Draco, please don’t-”

“Stand up.” While his voice was quietly calm, his tone brooked no argument. Shakily, she got to her feet, her eyes downcast as she watched him begin a slow circle around her.

Her body was a crisscrossing myriad of scars and bruises. The widest scars wrapped around her wrists and ankles, from manacles he assumed. Her longest scar ran somewhat diagonally over her stomach. He didn’t want to know what made that. He recognized the burn marks on her collarbone from the picture she had shown him. Another slow step and he noticed four thin marks on her bicep that looked like they might have been from fingernails. A random pattern of thin scars littered her back and shoulders and he followed the path of one idly with his finger. Whip marks. Following it, his gaze moved up to her neck where there were eight red crescent marks, some creeping up into her hairline.

Draco dropped down to one knee behind her to get a closer look at the three scars on her legs. One was rather high up on her thigh, almost triangular. Glass perhaps? The last scars were thin and white, running exact horizontal lines over the backs of her knees and he recognized the precision cutting of a spell. Cuts to such delicate areas would have rendered her unable to stand for days.

Not knowing what else to do, he pressed a kiss over the back of her knee, feeling it vanish under his touch. Pulling away, her body was again as it had been, as he knew it. He stood up.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that.” she said quietly, not meeting his gaze. He took her chin in hand and gently but firmly made her face him. He was quiet for a moment as he struggled to find the right thing to say. Draco kept his gaze locked with hers, hoping somehow she might see what he couldn’t find words for. Finally, not knowing how else to express himself, he said what came closest.

“I love you.”

Her eyes watered, but she didn’t cry. “I love you too.” He took her hand and led her out of the bathroom, flicking off the lights as he went.

“Why don’t we get you into bed?” She tensed.

“No. No, I’m not tired.”

“Laylani, please. It’s written all over your face. Come on, I’ll stay with you tonight.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Don’t be difficult Lani. Look, I’ll tie you down; I’ll be right next to you all night.” Tears began to run down her face.

“No Draco, don’t make me, I-I…”

“You…?”

“I can’t sleep!” she sobbed, startling Draco with her sudden outburst. “I can’t, I can’t. Not like that.”

“Not like what?”

“When you tie, when I’m tied, I can’t sleep tied down! Please don’t make me, Draco please!”

“What? Why not?”

“Bad - bad things happened to me when I was tied up and I couldn’t, I can’t stop them. They’ll, they hurt me.”

“Laylani, nobody’s going to hurt you-”

“No! Draco, Draco please don’t make me! I can’t, if something, if something happens…” She began to sob against his shoulder, his arms slowly wrapping around her. He held her as she sobbed, trying vainly to soothe her.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. Shh, don’t cry…”

Draco contemplated the information silently. He’d just assumed she’d been so upset the first time because he’d tied her up without permission. He’d never thought that it might be because she felt unsafe. The guilt he carried from last week’s incident multiplied itself exponentially.

Finally, after long minutes, she became quiet.

“Laylani?” he asked finally. “When was the last time you slept?”

She sniffled, trying to wipe her tears away. “I-I don’t know.” she said softly. “I keep dozing off now, I don’t know when, when I last slept properly.” She paused with a hiccupped sob. “I think, maybe, maybe Saturday. After your Quidditch game.”

That had been a week ago. She hadn’t slept properly in a week. His initial reaction was anger and disbelief. Why hadn’t she told him? She’d promised to trust him entirely and tell him everything. Why would she keep something so important from him? What else had she been keeping from him? Still, he imagined yelling would only make things worse. He couldn’t change what she’d done. It was just a question of what to do now.

“I’m so sorry.” he said quietly as he drew his wand. Laylani braced herself to be forcibly tied.

He whispered a spell, but nothing happened. Opening her eyes a crack, she watched as he levitated the purple chair from her front room into the bedroom, setting it down next to the bed. He sat down in it, facing her. “You go to sleep. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

“Draco, you need to sleep.” He smirked.

“Laylani if you can go for nearly a week without it, I’m sure I can manage one night.”

“But-”

“No buts, Princess.” He smiled faintly, getting up to pull the coverlet up around her as she lay back. He kissed her softly. She tasted…different.

The thunder rolled outside, causing her to jump and instinctively wrap her arms around his neck, nearly pulling him over on top of him. He laughed and she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” she muttered, loosening her grasp on him.

“Don’t be.” He pulled the blanket back and slid into the bed next to her, not bothering to remove his uniform trousers and shirt; he couldn’t get too comfortable. “Just until you fall asleep.” he said quietly and she nodded. She laid her head against his chest, feeling his strong arms wrap around her and she knew she was safe. She trusted him; if he were willing to do this for her, he surely couldn’t be seeing anyone else. With a deep sigh, she let the sounds of the storm and the soothing beat of his heart lull her to sleep.

Draco held her tightly against himself. They couldn’t go on like this. He needed to get her out of here, out of everyone’s reach. He needed to take her away and soon. Very soon.

He frowned. For the first time he considered that he might not be able to graduate. But that would be a small price to pay to be able to keep his fiancée. No, his wife. He would make her his wife before they left. Then he would take her away, somewhere no one could find them, where they could live quietly until the war was over.

It wouldn’t be easy. He would have to get her out without alerting anyone to their possible whereabouts. Not the Order, not the Death Eaters, not even his mother. He would have to take her somewhere remote, where no one could reach them, not even by chance. A true unplotable in every sense of the word. They would need their own land; it would be too much of a risk to pay rent to anyone. An island perhaps, something small, not worth anyone’s notice. He would get one someplace warm, she would like that.

The question was then how to get the funding. He would have to wait until his eighteenth birthday when he received access to both the inheritance left to him by the Stanners estate as well as unfettered access to the vault set up for him by his father. That was less than two weeks away. While the wealth of his personal vault would buy land one hundred times over, as Lord of the Malfoy estate, his father still had a controlling interest in the vault and would be alerted immediately for such a large withdrawal. He would have to use the Stanners money.

It wouldn’t be too hard to get the land. Many of his friends’ families owned companies dealing in real estate. It would involve a few powerful Obliviate spells but nothing he couldn’t handle on his own. He would begin looking into what was available to him tomorrow. A few words spoken to the right ears would be all it would take, and the offers would be falling at his feet.

They would take nothing with them but his wand. On his father’s authority his wand had been warded against any type of tracking spells the summer before he’d first come to Hogwarts. Laylani wouldn’t need hers. He would make sure everything else they’d need would be at their new home when they arrived.

But before any of this could take place, he would have to organize their marriage. He’d need some forged documents, alter her birth date to make her seem legally of age. It wouldn’t be the wedding she’d been planning with his mother, far from it. A hurried ceremony in the night, no wedding party, no witnesses, no family. Just him and her and whatever Ministry official he could pay off. She wouldn’t even get to wear her dress. He scowled; Draco silently swore to himself that he would make it up to her. After the war was over, once it was safe for her to return, he would give Laylani the wedding of the century and she would have whatever her heart desired, even if it meant having Granger and Weaselette in the wedding party.

Rings. He would need rings for their ceremony. He could give her at least that much. He wouldn’t be able to get them at the exclusive jewelry boutique in Paris that he’d intended to, he couldn’t even go to Diagon Alley, but Hogsmeade had many fine jewelry stores, and any one of them would do. He would find a few hours to slip away undetected within the week. He could make a plausible lie to his father, or if not him, his mother for the money.

She began to shift uneasily in his arms, making small noises of distress and he could tell she was having another nightmare. He thought of waking her up, but he imagined she wouldn’t sleep without having them. He would need something to help her sleep once they left. And for her headaches. He was fairly confident he could brew both the Dreamless Sleep potion as well as the headache remedy. The apothecary in Hogsmeade would carry what he needed and, under the guise of fetching ingredients for Professor Snape’s supplies, no one would question the amount he would need to buy them in.

She gasped sharply in her sleep and he held her tightly to himself, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He would take care of her. He’d given her his word he would take care of her when she couldn’t and he intended to stand by his promise as long as necessary. Forever, if that’s what it took.

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

Ginny sat at the far end of Gryffindor table, miserably poking at her breakfast but unable to eat. She kept her eyes trained on her plate, refusing to look up lest her eyes wander to where Harry sat further down the table in his usual spot with Hermione and Ron.

She hadn’t been expecting it when he had left to the privacy of his room with Ron and Hermione, leaving her behind with Colin. In fact, she’d been a bit hurt. Still, when the three of them had emerged later for dinner, they’d all walked to the Great Hall together.

Ginny sat in her usual place on her other side of Hermione, with the spot Harry had recently been filling on her right. Instead of taking that seat however, he’d wedged himself between Ron and a fifth year, not even casting a glance to Ginny.

Ginny had been shocked. All throughout the meal, Ginny tried to catch his eye but every time she did, he would immediately look away. It was as if he was going out of his way to avoid her. But surely that couldn’t be right, could it? A knot of dread settled into the pit of her stomach.

Nervously, Ginny had tried to approach him after dinner while he played a game of chess with Ron in the common room.

“Hey Ron, Harry.”

“Hey Gin.” Ron answered. Harry gave a small grunt of acknowledgement, not looking up from the board.

“Um, I was wondering if, if one of you could help me. I’m having a little trouble casting a proper Patronus.” That was a lie; Ginny had mastered her Patronus during fourth year in Dumbledore’s Army. However, Harry was the resident expert on the subject.

There was a beat of silence before Ron answered. “Can’t you see we’re busy? Go ask Hermione, I’m sure she can help you.” Harry looked up for a moment but returned to the board as his knight demolished Ron’s bishop.

“Sorry Gin.” he muttered. It felt like a slap to the face and stung just as much.

“Oh. Um, yeah. I guess I’ll…I’ll go ask Hermione.” The two boys nodded, not turning away from their game, thus not noticing Ginny had not left to see Hermione but instead went to her room where she silently got ready for bed, got in, pulled closed the bed hangings and quietly cried herself to sleep.

Harry must’ve changed his mind about her. There was no other explanation. She knew Harry, or at least she thought she had, and he’d never been deliberately cruel; he wouldn’t jerk around her feelings for a laugh. So the logical solution had to be that given time to think about it, he’d changed his mind about her and was simply letting her alone. It wouldn’t have hurt so much if Ginny hadn’t let herself hope, let herself believe that something was finally happening with Harry. Ginny had purposely avoided him this morning, saving him the trouble and her the humiliation.

A loud bang startled her away from her plate and towards the noise. She watched the Head Boy storm into the Great Hall, obviously in a foul mood and more than twenty minutes late for breakfast.

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

Six times.

Six times.

In the four hours Laylani had been able to sleep, she’d gotten out of bed unconsciously six bloody times. That alone was enough to put him in a bad mood, but combine that with a mere two hours of sleep the night before and Draco Malfoy was a force to be reckoned with.

Laylani smiled nervously at him as he dropped into his seat at Slytherin table. “Hello Dragon.”

“Hmph.” He replied, piling food onto his plate.

“I brought you something.” She pushed a steaming mug of coffee towards him, kept warm by a charm. “I brought sugar and cream too in case you wanted it.” He grabbed the mug, trying to smile at her but couldn’t quite find it in himself. He added heaps of cream and sugar to his coffee.

He was a bit more amiable after he’d finished a plateful of breakfast and the cup of coffee. He placed the mug back on the table.

“Thanks, love.” She smiled.

“It was the least I could do.” She paused. “You’re a bit late this morning.” He frowned.

“Nodded off in the shower. Bit of a nasty wake-up when the water turned cold.”

“Oh.”

They continued their meal in silence, Draco quickly shoveling down a second helping of breakfast while Laylani moved bits of her first helping, mostly untouched, around her plate.

Breakfast ended and the student body proceeded to their morning classes. Making sure Laylani was headed in the right direction for Transfiguration, Draco continued on to the North Tower for Divination. Instead of taking his usual seat with Goyle, he took Crabbe’s seat next to Blaise Zabini.

“Zabini.”

“Malfoy.” he answered, wondering if now would be the time his housemate would seek retribution for Friday’s incident.

“Relax Zabini. I’ve come to you for a business proposition.”

“I see. And that proposition is?”

“As I recall, several of your family’s conglomerates deals in real estate and I am looking to acquire some land.” Zabini shifted to face Draco more directly. This had his full attention.

“Is there anything specific you have in mind?”

“Something warm, secluded. An island perhaps.” If Zabini was surprised, he didn’t let on.

“That’s a rather large order.”

“I trust you can manage it.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“Good. I’m counting on your discretion, Zabini.”

Blaise nodded. “Of course.”

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

Laylani arrived early to Charms, hoping to catch Blaise before too many students arrived. He arrived soon after. She shyly approached him, blushing already.

“Blaise?” He looked up. She bit her lip nervously. “I just wanted to apologize. For Friday, I mean.” He shrugged.

“Think nothing of it.”

“No.” she said firmly. “I was mad at Draco, and I shouldn’t have involved you. I’m sorry.” Blaise tried to control the urge to grin. There was a bit of Gryffindor in this girl, wanting to do the right thing, make amends. ‘Must drive Malfoy up the wall.’ he thought.

“Apology accepted.” She smiled.

“Good. I guess I’ll see you later then.” He nodded and with a last smile, she turned and went back to her seat next to Draco.

“And what was that all about?” He asked, more than a little suspicious. Laylani rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

“Nothing. I was just apologizing to him for Friday.”

Draco arched a brow. “Apologizing? The bloke should be thanking you.”

“Thanking me?”

“For letting him be the only other man who’ll ever have a taste of my girl.” She laughed and was about to reply when Professor Flitwick took the floor. Instead she grinned and blew him a kiss, making him smirk.

Charms was unusually dull that day. The majority of the class was spent taking notes as Professor Flitwick went over every subtlety and nuance associated with their latest focus, protective charms. They were well into the class when it first started.

“Come to me.” Laylani looked up, quickly scanning the room; nobody else had seemed to have heard it. It was that same sharp, whispered voice from her dream. Her eyes fell on Draco and he gave her a small smirk before returning to his notes.

“Come to me.” She elbowed Draco sharply.

“Don‘t.” she hissed.

“Don’t what?”

“Come to me.”

“That’s not funny!”

“What?”

“Come to me.”

“Stop it!” she cried, attracting attention from her classmates. Quiet laughter ran through the room. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

“Miss Stanners?” Laylani blushed.

“Sorry, Professor.” she said quietly. She turned back to her notes but couldn’t focus on them, the whispered voice had put her too much on edge. What had just happened? Why? Why would someone do that? Had someone done anything, or had she simply imagined it? It was possible. If Draco hadn’t been the one doing it, he certainly hadn’t heard it. She gazed warily around her. It didn’t seem as if anyone else had heard anything either. Perhaps even she hadn’t heard it; maybe it was just a figment of her imagination.

‘Not enough sleep.’ she thought, conveniently ignoring the fact that she had in fact gotten to sleep last night. Four hours hardly counted, did it?

“Lani!”

Startled, she turned to Draco. Otherwise, the room was empty. What the hell had just happened? Where was everyone? She cast a fleeting glance to the clock. Somehow, nearly twenty minutes had passed in what, to her, had seemed like an instant.

“Hurry up; we’re going to be late.”

He was right; they did only have five minutes. “Shit.” she muttered, hastily packing her things. “Sorry Draco, I must have been daydreaming.”

“Let’s just go, alright.” He’d been waiting for her outside the room for nearly five minutes when he realized something wasn’t right, returning to find her sitting exactly as she had been when he’d left, all her work still spread out on the desk. He’d called to her twice before he’d gotten her attention.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door and down the hall. She had to rum to keep up with his long strides. She nearly tripped as they started down the flight of stairs.

“Draco!” She was beginning to get light-headed. She tried to force him to slow down, but he wouldn’t. “Draco! Slow down!”

He didn’t. “If we slow down we’ll be late.” Being late would be out of the ordinary for her, and after what had happened in Charms, she needed to be as ordinary as possible today so as not to arouse suspicion. Normal, she needed to be normal. Then everything would be fine.

Black spots clouded her vision. “Draco! Draco please! I-” Her head began to spin and the last thing she knew were her legs collapsing from under her. Everything went black.




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A/N: Don\'t foget to review! It takes thirty seconds and you\'re here anyway.