The eyes of Winter

Chapter 8...Questions

Winter blinked several times in the bright light that hurt her now
tender eyes.

\'Am I dead?\', she thought. Half expecting to see her friend Ickus, smiling
and taking her hand, but he had been gone two years now. Only half knowing
where she was, her head foggy like a London morning.

\'Not dead, but I can only wish I were.\'

Her mind floated, somewhere between sleep and awake, her thoughts
wavering on insanity. It was so hazy, a wave of *something* had passed
through her. She wasn\'t able to control it, and feared she never would be
able to. Both her mind and body screamed out in pain, and she groaned as
she tried sit up before strong hands pushed her down again.

\"Oh no you don\'t, you stay put Miss.\" Madame Pomfrey scolded her as she
let herself be pushed back into the soft pillows.

Closing her eyelids, which were too heavy to hold open another second.
Just to close them for another minute would have made her happy the
rest of her life. The sweet blanket of blackness coming back for her
once more, taking the pain with it.

\'Please take me.\' Her mind begging to whatever was coming for her.
\'Take me with you, don\'t ever let me wake up.\' Pleading for the river to
once again envelop her, taking everything. It came slowly, body and
emotion still not wanting to register what had happened. Yet her mind
began to play back the scene, as if in a dream. \'No not again!\' She saw
it all once more, playing slowly and silently.

Winter felt as if she was floating in her hospital bed, sinking lower into
the increasing pull of sleep. Her eyes were already closed, but she
desperately tried to block the mental images that flashed slower
by the second.

Great Hall...students ...teachers...lightning...the worry on Dumbledore\'s
face, and the storm that had raged *inside* the castle. Shocking images
flashing before her eyes, like a black and white photo album of the whole
event. They were slowing more now, seeming to fear the actual sleep that
was threatening to overtake her.

Winter slowly smiled, in spite of the pain, as a warm blanket was thrown
over her now cold body. The ice bath had helped, but she had never woke,
even as the cold water and ice were thrown on her in the massive tub they
had used.

Several teachers and Madame Pomfrey had picked her from the floor,
and levitated her to the hospital wing. Quickly trying to get her body
temperature down, before it was too late. She rolled on her side and
snuggled into the thick blanket,it was soft and just what she needed.

As she was slipping down she heard somewhere not to far away from
her bed, the unmistakable cold voice of Snape. Sounding livid, as he
spoke in a whisper but harshly.

\"No, Mr.Malfoy! You will return to your common room immediately. There
is no need for you to see her. Look you can see her from here.\" Snape
pointed at Winter\'s bed several feet away. \"I\'ve told you all I know,
now move along or you\'ll be serving detention restocking the potion
shelves.\"

He sounded harsh, maybe even too harsh for even Snape. He used
to tower above young Malfoy, until between fifth and six year Draco
had grown like a wildfire. Looking like a true Malfoy should, stautuesque
almost. They could now look eye to eye, both possessing a certain air
of dignity about them. Only the battle raged behind their eyes, now
face-to-face inches from each other.

\"Professor Snape,\" Malfoy sounded like he was forcing his voice to
sound civil. \"I need to know what happened in there tonight. What she
did was unlike anything I\'ve ever seen, or anything you\'ve seen I\'d
wager. Huh?\" He looked him up and down with a slight look of disgust.

\"Your question is not my concern, Draco\" Snape using his first name,
talking in a more pleasant tone. \"Your inquiry into this whole situation
believes me to think you have more than just a passing interest in our
new celebrity.\" Snape softly laughed under his breath at his own joke.
\"I suggest you be moving along, now.\" Snape changed his voice and
sternly continued. \"You wouldn\'t want to be the fish that got caught up
in the tackle on her face.\"

Draco wanted to protest to tell Snape that he just wanted to see her,
to see whatever had happened had not destroyed those hypnotic ice
blue pools at had held him in their grasp not only four hours ago.

\"Very well then, Professor Snape. I will see you in the dungeons.\"

Draco was now failing to keep the edge of anger out of his voice. He
didn\'t trust himself to say another word to the man who lived to torment,
even his own house members. Regardless of the fact he was father\'s best
friend. Uncle severus, indeed.

Draco turned on his heels and headed for the dungeon. His head thick
with the night’s events. He walked through the castle in a half daze, robe
still a little damp from the violent storm that had swept over the startled
student body. He turned the corner and found himself passing the doors of
the Great Hall. Most of the activity had calmed down, only house-elves and
a few teachers, working to repair the ceiling and rid the floor of the near
flood it had received.

Malfoy slowed as he walked by, looking up to see the enchanted ceiling
was still brewing a little, storm clouds starting to clear, as the teachers
continued their work on it. He flicked his eyes back towards the floor,
where the house elves where scrubbing a mark between the inner tables.
A singe mark, black and in a perfect circle.

\'Where Winter had stood,\' thinking with a fascination. ‘That’s where
she landed when she fell on her knees.\'

Turning away from the scene, he continued towards the dungeon. Wanting
only to get to his room. Seventh year Head-Boy, and Quidditch Captain had
all the advantages. His own room, and the ability to get away with more shit
than most others. Only a slight amount of power, not enough for him.

\'Tonight,\' he thought excitedly. ‘I saw true raw power, and I want it.\'
Turning into the entrance to the descending steps, hurrying down them.
Twisting and turning through corridors, making his way to his own room.
Inviting him to come rest and try to keep his thoughts rational. ‘And I want
her.\' She would not leave his mind.

Fishing his wand out of his robe with irritation, he flicked it and
called, \"Corpus Canestra.\" His private door swung open, and descended
the spiral steps into his chambers. Large and decorated in Silver and Green.
Nothing out of place, his things were there and the shower was calling his name.
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****Readers, Smut in next chapter. Malfoy takes things into his
own hands....hee hee. Shaolin****