"Come on, Pomfrey!" cries a familiar voice to my left. "You can't keep us locked up forever!"

I snort silently and glance at the older witch. Glad to know I'm not the only one annoyed by this sheer madness. One would think we were fugitives with how we're being treated.

"Oh, like hell I can't, Aurora. Now sit down or, so help me, I will make you," responds the very annoyed matron with a threatening finger pointed in our direction. When Sinistra doesn't reply, Pomfrey hurries in the opposite direction of us, the privacy curtain snapping shut behind her once more.

So much for that plan.

Resigning myself to fate, I sigh dejectedly and allow my head to fall into my hands. In the back of my mind, I do understand the need for precautions by the matron. I am, after all, a Slytherin. We do think things through unlike idiot Gryffindors like Harry. But this is pure lunacy. We're no more injured than Harry or Severus, and both were released almost instantly hours ago.

"It isn't fair," Aurora grumbles as she moves to the window to resume her previous watch. She has been pacing back and forth the entire time we've been here.

"Your husband would be the first to point out to you that life isn't fair, Professor," I reply quietly through my hands.

"Remind me to hit him upside the head when we get out, will you?"

I spread my fingers just a bit to stare through the open spaces at her. I can't tell if she's serious or not, but seeing how annoyed she is I wouldn't put it past her currently. I then catch her wince as she takes another step. She's been favoring that leg ever since the battle in the Great Hall.

"You should sit."

She turns to me, her hands going to her hips. Everything about her posture screams at me to leave her the hell alone.

"I'm fine, Draco. Or do I need to prove it to you as well as everyone else in this damn place?"

I force myself not to react to her biting words. After all, this is Sinistra we're talking about, not my mother. Her anger and annoyance frankly shouldn't bother me in the slightest since I'm not her flesh and blood. But it does unfortunately. A weakness, I suppose, which I'll have to keep hidden from others so it isn't exploited. Weaknesses, after all, tend to get one killed in my experience. My father taught me that lesson long ago.

"I thought not," she huffs, turning her back to me.

There are so many words I want to scream at her. "Selfish brat" is the one most prevalent currently, but I say nothing. If she wants to be an idiot, then so be it. After all, she's nothing to me. My heart twinges at my thought, and I glance away from her.

That's a lie, and I know it. If she truly meant nothing to me, then why the hell would I have done such a stupid, idiotic, and Gryffindor act as I had done just a few hours earlier? In other words, why save her? My eyes close, and my heart answers for me. Unlike my mother, she doesn't place certain expectations on me, certain criteria I must meet before I am loved, considered a good son in other words. Aurora has a way about her, an annoying and sometimes frustrating way, of letting one know she cares and loves you with no expectations of it to be reciprocated. It's practically Hufflepuff-like really.

"You're being an idiot." The words fall from my tongue a moment later. I catch the sharp breath from her but decide to hold my ground. After all, she hasn't hexed me yet, so might as well go all in now and be a complete Gryffindor. Stupid Harry is rubbing off on me clearly. "Sit down. Or else Pomfrey will never let us leave this godforsaken place."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Professor," I reply, forcing my eyes to meet hers.

"Since when do you think you can talk to me like that, Mister Malfoy?"

Her words are like a slap in the face with a bucket of cold water afterwards for good measure. She is right after all. Since when do I think I have the right to speak to a professor like that? My mind moves to the next play, and once more I speak before thinking.

"Since I killed the monster after you!"

"That gives you—"

"A chance at having a mother who gives a crap about me, not one who looks at me and hopes I'll join the ranks like my father someday, proud to kill innocents all for a scrap of praise, not even that sometimes, from a murderer. But, please, by all means, do continue limping about the room like an imbecile. After all, it's not as if I care, isn't that right, Professor?"

"Draco . . ."

I cut her off, though. Too much anger has bubbled to the surface.

"If Harry were here, he'd tell you the same thing. Carrying on like some pathetic child, and for what? All because the matron asks you to wait while she attends to more injured than us so she doesn't have Severus breathing down her neck if you were to injure yourself even more so? Grow up, Sinistra. Honestly, grow up! Life isn't perfect and sniveling about how unfair it is isn't going to help anyone. If there's one thing you should know, it should be that given our family of misfits. So, sit down. Now."

She stares at me for a few moments, as if trying to figure me out. I don't blink, though. I just hold my ground, at the ready to lob a few more shots at her if she continues her stubbornness. Finally, she quietly sighs and limps to a chair, sitting down soon after. I feel myself start to relax somewhat.

We sit in silence then. Neither one of us is looking at the other. Instead, she's looking out the window, and I'm looking down at my shoes. And that's just fine with me.

My mind replays the events of just a few hours ago as the silence drones on. Had I truly done that foolish Gryffindor act just to prevent Harry from doing it? He had, in fact, acted as if he was going to comply with Severus's wishes for once. Yet, I was the one who brought the both of us back into the fray, not him. My eyes close.

"Draco." Another memory flitters about, and I latch onto it, desperate to escape my emotions, to escape the here and now.

I can smell the mustiness of the dungeons once more and hear the crackling of the fire from the nearby sitting room. I'm back to that day once more when it all hit me. All it took was a little petulant girl with blond ringlets to shatter my world that I had spent so much time building up after my parents' deaths. One fleeting moment later, a word, just a word, screamed, and down came that world of illusion.

"Draco."

I draw in an unsteady breath, knowing what is to come next. My eyes remain closed to hide the tears I know that would surely fall otherwise. I feel once more the faint touch of a hand resting on my shoulder just as it had that day. That one action, one brief moment, so much was conveyed with it. I wasn't alone anymore. My actions, or rather outburst as it was, was understood and accepted. I didn't need to hide myself away as I had always done before out of fear, out of shame. Not anymore.

I inhale again, my breathing hitching slightly as I choke back more tears. My eyes slowly open, and I find that the ghostly touch from my memory isn't just from my memory. Sinistra has moved from her chair and now kneels before me. Her eyes reflect the same emotion they reflected that day. Not pity, never pity, but love is in her eyes as she stares at me. A mother's love.

"Draco." Her voice is soft, as if speaking to a skittish animal. I've heard her speak to Angel this way sometimes in fact. Angel and Harry actually if I'm honest.

"Yes?" Years of practice allows me to keep my voice steady as I respond.

"Thank you."

My eyes narrow. Thank you? For what? I haven't done anything.

She smiles, though, before coming up slightly and pressing a kiss against my forehead. My eyes instinctively close, and I feel her hand gently card through my hair.

Love, they say, is the strongest weapon of all. It can end wars or start them. It can heal wounds deeper than any healing spell can penetrate or cut deeper than any curse. I believe it all because I've seen it. I've felt it in action. Love is why I overrode my strong instincts of self-preservation and logic earlier. Love is why I chose to do the Gryffindor thing and run towards the battle, towards the death and destruction, towards the pain and heartache. Love is why I saved Sinistra. And if I were a betting man, I'd swear it is why the Sword of Slytherin appeared to me. Not for this idiotic fallacy of being a true Slytherin, as others believe. Because, honestly, why would a dead Founder from a thousand-or-so years ago enchant it to be used by a Malfoy of all pureblood families? But for love, I can see it. I certainly can state with no doubt that love was behind my actions in the Great Hall when I drove that sword deep into that monster's chest.

"What do you say about us making a break for it, hmm?" she asks with a playful smile.

I snort, thankful for the distraction she's giving me.

"I say that if we do and Severus learns we left without being examined first, one of us is going to get a lecture, and it likely wouldn't be you, Professor."

She rolls her eyes and laughs. "Perhaps not in front of you, but I assure you he'd lecture me eventually. He always does." She then sighs, taking a seat next to me on the cot. "You do know I don't mean to upset you so, right?"

Frowning slightly, I glance at her. "I know that."

"Good. Because I wouldn't want you to think that I do it on purpose. I just, well, sometimes I forget, you see? Forget that my actions affect others, affect you and Angel and Harry especially." She then sighs heavily, her hand gently moving through her hair. "And Severus," she murmurs softly a moment later. "I'm still learning how to do all of this. How to be a wife, a mother. It all came so suddenly, you know? Not that I would change it of course, because I wouldn't. I just, well, being here, it stirs up memories I'd very much like to forget."

"I understand."

"No, you don't, and I wouldn't want you to ever understand, Draco." She pats my knee gently. "You see me as being selfish, and you're right. I am being selfish. I'm wanting to disregard the proper protocol, to throw everything to the wind, and leave this damned place."

"Well, I don't want to be here either," I say quietly, unsure of where she's going with this.

"Of course you don't." She forces a soft laugh. "You'd very much rather be with your friends, with Miss Granger."

I glance away as my heart skips a beat. Hermione. I haven't even thought about her since arriving here. She'd be all right of course. She was with the others. And Weasley. Through all his faults, he'd surely keep her safe I know. Or else I'll show him the raw power of a Slytherin.

The privacy curtain then snaps open, and I nearly jump out of my skin because of it. I notice Sinistra's look instantly. I clear my throat, though, and tug on my collar.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" Madam Pomfrey drawls as she stares down at us. "Is that really Aurora Sinistra, mistress of fleeing the hospital wing herself, sitting there patiently waiting for once? Well, I'll be damned. And here I thought I'd have to drag you back from the dungeons yet again."

"Hilarious, Poppy. Now, can we get this over with?" She forces her smile even more. "Please?"

"I suppose. Since you asked so nicely." Pomfrey glances at me briefly before she draws her wand. "What about you, Mister Malfoy? Any aches, pains?"

"No, Madam. Nothing," I answer.

She nods sharply and then waves her wand over me. I feel the cool chill of her diagnostic spell soon after. When she ends it a moment later and turns to Sinistra, I know she's satisfied with me.

"You can go, Mister Malfoy."

I hop off the cot instantly. I can leave. Finally. I take several steps towards the door and then stop. Slowly, I turn back and glance at Sinistra.

"Now, let's see how badly injured you are this time, shall we, Aurora?" Pomfrey murmurs, not noticing that I haven't left yet.

Sinistra smiles faintly at me before she waves me off. I incline my head and take my leave soon afterwards. However, I only go as far as the entrance to the hospital wing. While I may not understand why she hates being here so much, I do understand that one doesn't like to be alone either. I sit down on a bench and wait. It seems we're one of the last ones remaining.

When the door to the hospital wing creaks open several minutes later, I'm expecting it to be Harry and Severus. After all, it's only been four hours now. Instead of them, I find myself staring at—

"Granger." My voice cracks slightly as I speak. When her face lights up into her familiar smile, I stand up. She embraces me, the strong scent of parchment settling around us. "Been reading again, have you? And here I was off fighting with Harry, dueling to the death and all that. I see how I rank."

"You're incorrigible," she drawls, lightly hitting my shoulder. "Are you injured? When I saw Harry and not you . . ."

"Yeah, unfortunately, I'm not Saint Potter and allowed to leave whenever I wish."

"Draco," she admonishes.

"I'm fine." I glance back towards the privacy curtain I know Sinistra's behind. "Pomfrey released me just a moment ago."

"Then why are you still here?"

I shrug. "Because Sinistra still is." My eyes dart back to Hermione, as I try to gauge her reaction.

"That's sweet of you." She kisses my cheek and grabs my hand. My eyes instantly dart down. She feels so warm.

"Yeah . . ." My voice trails off. She's holding my hand. Granger is holding my hand. This is real. This is really happening. I, oh Merlin, what happened to smooth Draco? Why am I a blubbering idiot just because Granger is holding my hand?

"Draco?" My eyes snap up to hers. "Are you all right?" she asks, giving me a strange look.

"Course I am," I reply tersely, pulling my hand back. I catch the slight look of hurt in her eyes and instantly feel a pang in my heart. I didn't mean to hurt her feelings. I just need my hand back to think clearly. I open my mouth to apologize, but no words come out.

"I should go," she states a moment later, turning away from me.

My mouth remains stuck, and I'm forced to watch her leave the hospital wing. The moment the door closes behind her, I groan and slam my fist against the wall.

"Damn it!" I snarl, the pain shooting up my arm.

"Well now, that could have gone better I do believe," I hear behind me.

"And here I thought Severus was bad."

My eyes close at once, and my head thumps against the wall.

A Killing Curse sounds good to me right about now.

During dinner, I'm doing my very best to avoid Sinistra's eyes. Though, she seems to be more concerned with Harry than me thankfully. That doesn't mean that I'm free, however. A certain little girl with blond ringlets has me in her sights tonight it seems. She's been talking my ear off ever since we've returned to the dungeons.

"And then Fred says unicorns have special blood to make things better. But it's bad to drink it 'cause it'll hurt you or something. I don't know." Angel turns to Severus. "Daddy, can I have one?"

"No."

"But I was good!"

"And I'm very proud of you for that, but no," Severus replies, holding Angel's gaze. "You're not getting a unicorn."

"But I want one!"

"How grand. You're still not getting one." He stabs a bit at his salad.

"But . . ." Her pout instantly morphs into determination followed by her head whipping around to Sinistra. "Mummy, Daddy won't let me have a unicorn," Angel whines.

I glance to Severus and notice his frown. Have we truly already reached those years with the little pipsqueak already? I shake my head and take another bite of salad. If she thinks pitting Severus against Sinistra is going to work, well, she has another thing coming to her. But kudos to her for taking the Slytherin approach.

"So I hear, sweetheart."

"You'll let me have a unicorn, won't you, Mummy? Cause I was a good girl. I stayed with Fred, protected him just like Draco told me to."

"Love . . ."

"Thank you, Mummy!" She turns back to Severus. "See, Daddy? Mummy'll let me have a unicorn." When Severus leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, the little imp sticks her tongue out.

Glancing across the table towards Harry, I notice that he's not even paying attention to this spectacle. He seems deep within thought. Then again, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. He always misses things. Like the fact that Severus wasn't trying to kill him every single year he had been here. Or that Ron, his so-called best mate, is a few bricks short of a wall.

"Angel Celestria Prince!"

"Yes, Daddy?" she drawls, batting her eyelashes at Severus.

I can't help it. I burst out laughing. Honestly, Potter, how can you be missing this? Our little sister is a bigger troublemaker than both of us combined. Who would have thought it?

"You know very well what, young lady," Severus replies, glaring at the little imp.

"That you love me?" Her grin widens. "I know, Daddy. I love you too."

"Aurora," he growls, glancing at Sinistra.

"Nope. I'm the good parent here," she says, barely hiding her laughter. "You're the one who told her no to getting a unicorn. Not me."

"Then you can clean up after the damn thing," he snaps before glaring at Angel, who in turn returns a similar albeit much cuter glare of her own. "We are not getting a unicorn."

"Are to!"

"Are not!"

"ARE TO!" Angel screeches, her little hands slamming onto the table.

"ARE NOT!" Severus shouts back. "Unless you want Daddy to kill the blasted creature and harvest it for his potions. Now, do you want Daddy to do that? To cut it up into little pieces? A little horn here and a little unicorn heart there?"

My mouth drops. He couldn't have just said what I think he just said, right?

"Severus!" Sinistra hisses.

I glance towards Harry. He had to have heard what Severus just said. There's no way he didn't. But there is no reaction from Harry whatsoever. He just sits there like a zombie. How the hell can he just sit there when Severus just said that to our little sister? Is he deaf?

"What?" Snape replies gruffly. "I'm not lying. Unicorn ingredients are expensive to procure. It's the least the blasted thing can do for me."

Then comes Angel's banshee screams, as she flees to the safety of her room. Harry is still lost in his own little world, it seems, so it's up to me to stand up for our little sister. Honestly. How can he just sit there and not be angry? This is our sister for Merlin's sake! Ugh. It just, it makes me so angry. I can't hold back any longer. It explodes from me.

"How dare you say that to her!" I yell, my hands clenching into fists by my sides. "Just because you were outsmarted by a four-year-old doesn't mean you have to take it out on her." Numbly, I notice Severus quickly pale, but I push forward. So much anger is in my words. So much of my own pain flows freely. "She's your daughter, Professor! I'd have thought you'd of all people wouldn't treat his own flesh-and-blood like that." My nostrils flare, and my eyes harden. "You're no better than Lucius, you know that?" I feel Sinistra's hand rest on my arm, but the words continue leaving my lips. "Next you'll take her hunting with you, yeah? Teaching her all the good Unforgivables? Telling her that she has to mean it!" I hear Lucius in my mind as I snarl my words. "First, it'll be the unicorn. Then you'll move onto a house elf. Chatzy probably. And then it'll be a friend of hers."

"Pathetic. Truly pathetic. You aren't even trying, Draco. Again!" Lucius's voice echoes in my mind as I stare Severus down.

"It won't be long then before it'll be Harry and me . . . and then when you really want to test her, you'll have her torture her own mother while you watch and cheer her on." My body shakes as the memories I've locked up long ago overpower me.

"Please, Draco," my mother's voice pleads faintly in the memory. "Please."

"I can't believe I thought you were better than him. What do I expect, though, from a Death Eater like you? No amount of good will ever wash it out of you after all. Mother taught me that." Numbly, I watch Severus's face fall before his eyes dart behind me. "No. I won't let you do that to her!" I push back from the table and draw my wand, pointing it at him. "You will not do that to her! You won't take away her innocence. Not like my father did me. I'll kill you before that will ever happen. Do you understand me? You will not make her like you!" I jab my wand towards him for good measure. However, when I try again, my wand vanishes from my hand.

"That's enough! Both of you!"

My head snaps towards the snarled voice to my right. In all my years here at Hogwarts, I've never seen Sinistra this upset before. A part of me cowers inside, knowing that we've pushed, I've pushed, too far tonight.

Her finger is outstretched and pointed at Severus. She says nothing to him, but he understands and turns away silently, heading towards Angel's room.

"How can you let—" I start to say.

"Because he didn't mean it, Draco. He'd sooner walk off my tower than hurt his children."

"But he—"

"I'm very much aware of what he said."

"Then how can you justify his behavior? Make excuses for him, Sinistra?"

"Because I know him, Draco."

"Yeah, well, my mother knew my father too supposedly and look how well that turned out."

"He is not Lucius."

"No. At least Lucius was honest about how much of a bastard he really was."

She grabs my upper arms then. Every single part of me wants to flee, but I can't. I just stare into her eyes. So much emotion, so many that I can't discern them all. Flickers of something start, and then the images quickly overtake my vision.

"You little fool, give it—" Severus. That's Severus's voice I recognize.

My eyes narrow as I notice that I'm looking down at Harry.

"Draco has it," Harry yells.

Fear, overwhelming fear, surrounds me. My vision tunnels as I look towards myself. This is Severus's memory of the Great Hall earlier I quickly recognize. Questions swirl about.

"What?" Severus's voice is low. To anyone else, it'd be his 'I'm going to kill you' voice. But I feel no anger, just fear and anxiety. He's worried.

The wand that I previously head morphs into the sword, and I watch myself plunge it deep into Mezra's chest. The bright light overtakes us, but still I feel Severus's concern, his fear. When my eyes finally adjust, I see myself staring shocked at the empty space before me. Severus's fear remains still. There are other words, but I can't hear them.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter," Severus growls. Anger is starting to replace his earlier fear mixed with relief. The scene then swirls around like a memory in a Pensieve.

"It's as if those boys are trying to send me to the grave early, I swear it." The room is dark again before it flickers into appearance. I look to my right, and I can see Sinistra looking towards Harry, Angel, and me as we're all setting the dinner table. This was just a few hours ago.

"Well, now that you mention it, I did see a few more grays on you earlier." Her tone is playful.

"Hilarious. But you know what I mean. What were they thinking doing such a reckless and foolish thing as that? They could have been killed."

"So could we have, Severus."

"We have experience. They do not." His tone conveys complete frustration. "They're children for Merlin's sake. They're supposed to live longer than we are, have better lives than we had. And look at them." We've taken our seats, Angel talking my ear off and Harry staring off into space.

"Oh, I don't know. They seem to be plenty happy right now."

"Until the next thing pops up. If we were any good sort of parents, we'd take them far from here. Away from the darkness." The memory then ends, and I find myself staring back into Sinistra's eyes.

"That's the Severus I know," she states, holding my eyes. "I'm not excusing his behavior or justifying it because he was flat out wrong to act like that. He let his temper get the better of him. But that one action, while vile and repugnant as it is, doesn't make him as despicable as Lucius. It just makes him a bit of a bastard who needs a good slap upside the head or four. If he makes a habit of it, though, you can bet your arse I will not stand idly by and allow him to hurt our family. Do you understand, Draco? I will do everything in my power to protect this family, to protect you. I give you my word." Numbly, I nod, and she releases me. Shortly after, I leave for my dorm, the portrait closing behind me.

It's been a day since my outburst. I should have returned to the dungeons to apologize. Not that I was really in the wrong, mind you, but I should have. As it is, though, I find myself in the library, where I've been hiding myself away.

My fingers run down the spine of yet another book I have no intention of ever reading.

"Does Hermione know you fondle books like that when she's away?" a voice teases nearby.

My hand falls to my side, and I glance in the direction of the voice. When I see familiar witch with honey-colored curls, I sigh inwardly. Jezlyn. Of course. I had almost forgotten she's still here. Though, that could be because she's been keeping to herself lately.

"Wow. Way to make a girl feel appreciated." She then scoffs, shaking her head. "And here I was going to give my favorite nephew a present."

"I'm not your nephew."

"Ouch." She presses a hand against her chest. "Is that any way to talk to your aunt?"

"What do you want, Jezlyn?"

Shrugging, she crosses her arms. "I don't want anything. Well, other than to figure out why you're sulking in the library lately."

"I'm not sulking."

"Fine. Lurking," she drawls, rolling her eyes as she plucks a book from a nearby shelf. "You've been going on like you lost your best friend, and we both know that's not true." She slips the book into her bag before she stands tall again. "So, out with it. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, you know, not really convincing there, Draco."

"Lucky for me, I don't have to explain myself to you. Now, if you'll excuse me," I state, brushing past her.

"Maybe not," she replies behind me, "but I know a certain little girl, maybe you know her too—tight, blond curls—who happens to believe her brother hates her now."

"That's absurd." I turn back to her. "Why would she think I hate her?"

"Because it's not just Aura and Professor Snape you've been avoiding, dear nephew. Not to mention, this is a four-year-old we're talking about. She doesn't understand these things really. All she knows is something bad happened the other night, and her brothers have been avoiding her since."

"But she didn't do anything wrong."

"No, but, again, she's four."

My eyes then narrow on Jezlyn. "What do you mean 'brothers?' Surely, Potter's been there to visit since yesterday."

"He hasn't. In fact, it's my understanding that he's hidden himself away further than you have. So, we come back to the question at hand. What's going on? Why are you choosing to hang around the library of all places than your rooms?"

"Your sister didn't tell you?"

"What? That Professor Snape lost his temper with my niece when she kept wheedling him for a unicorn? No, she didn't, but Angel did. In her own way of course." Her green eyes narrow on me. "You can't honestly be avoiding Angel because of that? I mean, come on, Draco. Everyone in the entire world knows that Severus Snape can be a bastard sometimes, especially when angry."

"So we're just supposed to live with it? Is that right?"

"Wow. Somebody has some serious Daddy issues he needs to get over with right there."

My brows furrow. "Excuse me?"

"No, honestly, Draco. You need to speak with someone about that stuff. I mean, wow. I'm not a mind healer, thank Circe, but, I mean, wow. If you truly think that Snape losing his temper with her is the equivalent of your dear dead father taking you to little Death Eater parties to torture the help, then you need a whole army of mind healers. Because it's nothing like that at all."

"You weren't there," I growl, glaring at her. How dare she speak about that like she knows! What the hell does she think she knows exactly? Nothing.

"You're right. I wasn't. But I was there when my brother-in-law did the right thing and apologized for what I'm told was the hundredth time since he said that. And I was there when he tried to make it up to his daughter again and again. I saw the look of regret, unimaginable regret, Draco, in his eyes when he was kneeling—kneeling—before her, telling her how sorry he was for upsetting her, begging her—a four-year-old—for forgiveness. So, yeah, you know, you're right. I wasn't there to see him be a first-class bastard to her, but you bet your arse I was there to see him do everything in his power to make it up to her. But, you know, do go on thinking that he's a bastard just because your dad never apologized for anything he ever did. After all, good fathers are rare nowadays, aren't they?" She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "And you know what? I may not have been there to witness his words, but at least I was there to see him try to be a good father and make it up to her. Of course, you wouldn't know that, seeing as how you've been hiding yourself up here having a pity party with yourself."

I open my mouth to snarl something back, but she slaps me hard across the face instead.

"Go see your sister for goodness sake, Malfoy! And then go see Pomfrey or whomever to work through this." She throws her hands up into the air. "Honestly! Every single one of you needs therapy in one form or another. Hell, you'd probably get a good discounted family rate in fact." She then huffs before she whirls away and leaves me standing there with my mouth agape.

Several moments pass before I can finally come to my senses again. I shake my head and touch my cheek, feeling the warmth from where she has hit me. I have not been having a pity party for myself up here. I then pause and glance around the empty library. Have I?

I mean, I'm not the one on trial here. I've done nothing wrong. Snape has! He's the one who said that vile—Well, I suppose that's one difference between Snape and Lucius. Snape only said something, whereas Lucius would have done it. But that doesn't change anything. Words can cause more harm than actions sometimes.

But if what Jezlyn is saying is true, then . . . Lucius never saw anything he did as being wrong. After all, I was expected to be the next member of Voldemort's Inner Circle and carry on the legacy of killing Muggleborns and Blood Traitors. So killing a pet house elf then was just his way of trying to toughen me up for what was to come.

Severus, though, has never expected me to do that. In fact, he's always been trying to undo Lucius's abuse. Telling me that I am free to do what I want to do within certain limits. To become my own person and not another Death Eater. He . . . Is she right? Is Jezlyn right, I wonder. Am I just projecting my memories of Lucius onto what happened with Angel yesterday?

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you," Hermione states as she suddenly appears by my side. Her head cranes to the side as she approaches. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," I answer, forcing my voice to remain steady. That is what I'm doing, though, isn't it? This entire time I've been projecting my childhood onto—

"I didn't upset you, did I? With the kiss and all? I didn't mean to be forward, but I did think it was sweet of you."

My lip curls upwards into a half-smile. "No, Granger. You didn't upset me."

"Even with grabbing your hand?"

"Even with that. I just, honestly, I couldn't think with you holding my hand. We haven't really done that, you know? It was—"

"Exciting," she cuts in before glancing down with a faint blush. "I mean, new of course."

My smile grows as I watch her. She's so beautiful. I want to tell her, but there are no words that could convey that correctly. Especially no words that could be uttered from my lips.

"I'm sorry for my behavior the other day. I shouldn't have reacted that way."

Her eyes glance up to mine. "It's fine."

"No it's not," I respond with a quiet sigh. "I like you. I do hope you know that."

"I do." She smiles back. "You've only sent me half-a-dozen poems telling me that."

I chuckle softly and nod. I haven't sent her anything lately, though, I know. I've been wallowing in my own—whatever this is since Severus's words.

"Anyway, Angel said you needed to see me."

"Angel?" My smile falls. When did she talk with my little sister?

"She sent me an owl a little while ago, telling me you'd be here. So, here I am."

My eyes narrow in confusion. How could Angel have known that I'd be here?

"What's wrong?"

"I didn't tell anyone where I was going, and I certainly haven't seen Angel since last night."

"Strange." Hermione frowns before she digs in her bag. It takes a bit but eventually she pulls out a slip of parchment folded like a swan. "This was with the letter. She claimed it was from you."

My eyes stare at the swan as my heart thumps loudly in my head. It's not possible . . . I slowly grab it from Hermione and unfold it. Sure enough, my handwriting stares back at me.

"That's impossible," I murmur. I then glance back to Hermione. "Did you read this?"

"Was I not supposed to?" she asks, biting her bottom lip.

I scoff. "I threw this away the other day. It didn't seem good enough or proper, I guess, to do."

"Oh."

"Not to mention, I thought after my behavior the other day you wouldn't want to go with me."

"What?" She laughs, her hand resting against my arm. "Draco, that's absurd. Of course, I'd want to go with you. I wouldn't want any to be escorted by anyone else."

"Really?"

"Of course." She shakes her head and leans in towards me, kissing my cheek once more. "I would love to go to the ball with you, Draco."

I smile in return. My eyes then glance down at the note in my hand.

"I'm sorry, Granger." I sigh heavily and hold her gaze. "There's something I have to do. I'll see you later, though, all right?" I catch her confusion and chuckle quietly. "There's someone I need to apologize to and another I need to thank."

She snorts and rolls her eyes.

"Tell the professors I said hello and thank your sister for me as well."

"Of course." I incline my head and walk towards the door. This apology is long overdue. But maybe it'll help me get back on track again. Or at the very least give Severus a reason to send me to Pomfrey and talk to her. After all, I certainly do have things to discuss, it seems.

It's not right. Nothing is right. I growl and throw yet another tie across the bathroom. Nothing I've tried on is good enough. Not for Granger. She's going to look stunning, I know. And this is our official date. Not that most of Hogwarts doesn't already know about us being together. I have unfortunately made it painstakingly obvious.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror for a moment. I could always go shirtless I suppose. Chuckling softly, I run a hand through my long hair. That would certainly get attention. But, no, I have to pick an outfit. The perfect outfit for tonight.

My formal robes seem foreign to me. Not because I haven't worn them lately, but because I'm not that person anymore. I'm not Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa, destined to be a Death Eater. Not anymore. I'm more than that now. I've evolved into something more than a spoiled brat who wants to burn all that is different from him. I realized that this morning during my session with Pomfrey.

I turn away from them and sigh. No. They aren't what I'll be wearing tonight. My hands grab my black button-down shirt, and I quickly throw it on.

Does it even matter what I'll be wearing? Hermione is the one who should be adored, not me.

A thought then occurs to me. Oh no! I couldn't have—

My eyes dart back up to the clock. An hour. That's all I have left. Exactly an hour before the ball. I don't have anything prepared. I—I might be panicking a tad bit I realize.

Whirling around, I rush out of the bathroom. Sinistra. She'll know what to do. She's done these things a thousand times, and she's got the certain female mindset I need.

"Draco, could you—?" Angel calls out as I rush past.

"Not today, Celes." I don't even look at her as I reply. There's no time. Pushing the portrait open, I rush out of our rooms and head at breakneck speeds up to the Astronomy Tower. It's the only place Sinistra could possibly be given the time of day.

I reach there quicker than Disapparating it seems and grab the handle of the door to open it. However, the door doesn't budge I quickly learn. What in the world? Her office door is always open. Unless she has a student in there, but all of them would likely be getting read I'd imagine. My fist pounds against the heavy oak door. When it doesn't open a few seconds later, I knock harder and more incessantly. Why isn't she opening the door? She always opens the door!

"Professor Sinistra, I need to speak with you!" I shout through the door, wondering if maybe she isn't in fact in there. This is absurd. Any other damn time she'd be there. But, of course, the one time I need her, she's not answering. I bet she wouldn't do this to Potter. Both hands now slam against the door, causing it to rattle slightly. Doesn't she hear me? Hear how badly I need to speak with her? I'm just about to slam my fists against the door one last time when I hear the locks turn. Finally.

Throwing the door wide open, I step inside. Vaguely, I do see a slight motion off to my side, but I ignore it and step towards her.

"I need your help!" My gray eyes hold her calming brown.

"All right." She motions towards the open chair across from her. "Sit down." Her eyes move from mine briefly before her eyes return to me. "Now, what's going on?"

"I need it to be perfect!"

"What do you need to be perfect?"

"This!" I respond, throwing my hands up into the air. "All of it. I need to make all of this tonight to be perfect for Granger." I notice her smile instantly and frown in return. "This is hardly amusing."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so certain of that, Draco, considering Harry was just here to see me about the same thing."

"Potter was here?" She inclines her head. "I didn't see him."

"That much was obvious, love. Now, why do you think you have to have it perfect?"

"It's our first time together." She raises a brow at me, which causes my frown to deepen. "Well, yes, obviously, Hermione and I have spent time together before, but not as, well, boyfriend and girlfriend really. More like really good friends."

"Who just, you know, happen to snog each other every now and then. Yeah, no, I get it. I was in one of those relationships myself not long ago."

"Yeah?"

She snorts and shakes her head. "Oh, love."

"What?"

"Never mind. Let's move on to your relationship, all right?" She then stands and moves closer to me. "You think everything has to be perfect all the time, and, well, I hate to break it to you, Draco, but life is messy. It isn't perfect. You could do the most elaborate thing tonight with her to declare your love for all to see, and it would still not change things. I mean, it might, but it likely wouldn't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm a hopeless romantic who spent almost all of her adulthood fancying a man who wouldn't give her a time of day because he was still hung up on his son's dead mother," she replies with a shrug. "And I've seen Septima and her numerous failed relationships. Trust me. It wouldn't necessarily work."

"But don't girls want the elaborate schemes."

"Maybe in their dreams, I suppose, but what they really want is just someone who loves them and wants to be with them."

"So you're saying you didn't want the whole white knight thing?"

Sinistra almost immediately doubles over laughing. "Oh, hell no. There's really no such thing, Draco. We're not all black and white like that. We all are a little bit gray." She then smiles and rests a hand on my shoulder. "Did I want Severus at some point to come charging in to save me from some sort of danger? Or to bow and be the perfect gentleman all the time? Maybe in the beginning, but this, what we have now is so much better. It's real, Draco."

"But how am I supposed to show her that she's the one, that I love her?"

"You show her by being there. By the little smiles you get when you're around her. By the innocent touches. The stolen snogs. There's so many ways a person can show that."

"But what if this night is a disaster?"

"It's only a disaster if you don't show up, Draco. The flowers, the candy, the false chivalry. We don't remember that. We remember the way your eyes seem to stare into our very souls at times. The way your heart skips a beat when we kiss or touch. The way you laugh at something we've said for the hundredth time. That's what we remember. Not what you're wearing. Because, honestly, I couldn't tell you a thing about what Severus was wearing on our first date. Probably black robes knowing him, but that's not what I remember about that night."

"What do you remember?" I ask quietly.

"I remember him trying and failing to tell me how wonderful I looked. The way he touched my back as he led me to our table. It was as if he was afraid he'd break me. But above all else, I remember how he held my eyes, as if no one else in that restaurant mattered."

"Because they didn't," Severus's low voice responds near the door.

I turn towards him and glance down guiltily. I feel like I'm interrupting now. After all, no adult really cares about a teenager's problems.

Though, I must say that he is wearing some wicked formal robes currently. For all Lucius's money, he could not ever look that good in robes.

"I should go," I say quietly. As I walk past Severus, he reaches towards me and I stop.

"As long as you stay by Miss Granger's side tonight, she will see the truth to your affections without the words needing to be said. I am of the understanding that actions speak louder than words in this case." He then lowers his voice. "And it's not the witch who remembers what the other was wearing. It's the wizard, Mister Malfoy." His eyes then move to Sinistra. "Hair swept up with two loose curls on either side of your head. Sapphire drop earrings to match your sapphire, ruffled, off-the-shoulder gown. You were wearing two-inch silver sparkled heels. And you smelled like raspberries."

I glance at Sinistra and smile awkwardly. They are semi-adorable. That is if one doesn't think of them as being one's parents. Not that they are or that I do, but, perhaps, one day I might. Maybe. Inclining my head, I step away from him and leave.

Could they be right? Will none of this matter in the end? Will me just being there with her be enough? Lucius always did elaborate displays, but then I'm not him. Am I?

An hour has passed by, but it seems so much longer than just an hour. I smile as I twirl Hermione one more time before I pull her back against me. This night has been so refreshing. I've taken Sinistra and Severus's advice and thrown aside my quest for perfection. It doesn't need to be perfect to be right.

"If Pansy screws her face up like that anymore, she'll get it stuck that way," Hermione whispers in my ear as she rests her head against my shoulder. We're swaying back and forth with the music.

"What a pity," I reply just as soft. My arms rest loosely around her back.

"I'm having a wonderful time, Draco."

I smile inwards and nod. "As am I."

"You do know, though, that you don't have to give me something every time we meet, right?"

I glance down. Even though I know I can't see it with her head still on my shoulder, I know she's wearing the necklace I gave her tonight.

"I do, but it goes perfect with your gown. How could I not give it to you then?" I hear her snort and roll my eyes. My excuse is rather weak on second thought.

"Professors Sinistra and Snape look amazing together, don't they?" she states quietly.

"I suppose."

With a laugh, she glances up at me. "It must be strange to hear someone say that about your guardians. Not to mention, your professors."

"It is. Sort of." I chew on my bottom lip for a moment before I sigh. "I'm still trying to figure out what they are to me."

"You know that you don't have to think of them like Harry does, right?"

"Yes. Madam Pomfrey and I discussed that earlier. All this time, I thought I kept them at bay to protect myself. It seems, though, I might have only been trying to protect them. I don't know, though. I don't hold much stock in everything she says all the time, after all."

"It's good of you to talk to her, though."

"It is," I agree.

"Now, if you could get the rest of your family to talk to her . . ."

"One has to be ready in order for that to work according to Pomfrey. I'm not certain they're ready yet. Though, I'd imagine Severus is speaking with Professor Sinistra and she in turn with him."

"Harry, though . . ." her voice trails off.

"Yeah. Lucky for us, we have a little sister who likes to push us."

Hermione laughs. "She was so disappointed when she was told she couldn't attend I heard."

"Oh, she threw a right fit. Worthy of a Gryffindor actually," I tease, chuckling when Granger lightly hits my chest.

"Draco," she admonishes playfully.

"While she might not understand it, it's good for her not to be here, I think."

"Oh?"

"We won't be interrupted by her." My eyes then catch Harry with Luna over by a table. "And judging by Potter's current situation, we won't have to worry about him either."

"How grand," she drawls, her eyes lighting up.

"Indeed."

She's so beautiful. I can't help it. I brush back a stray strand of hair and lean in to kiss her. However, before my lips can connect with hers, I find myself stumbling slightly as someone bumps into us. My head whips towards the offender instantly, and I nearly do a double-take at the oddly familiar young golden-blond lady standing next to—

"Weasley!" Fred that is.

"So sorry. We got a bit carried away there. Didn't we?" Fred says quietly, chuckling awkwardly. He pulls his date in a bit closer, as if he's afraid she'll run off.

The young lady's dark eyes then look away from mine. "You look so beautiful," she says to Hermione. "Draco is so lucky to have you as his girlfriend. I was telling Fred that a bit ago."

"Yeah, she was," Fred replies through an uncomfortable smile. "Well, wouldn't you know it? We should be going, poppet, yeah?"

My eyes narrow on the both of them. There is something strange about this whole thing. The young lady isn't Jezlyn, I know, as I can see her dancing with Blaise and Theo across the way. So, who is she? And why is she so—

When her hand rests on my forearm a moment later, it hits me before she even opens her mouth.

"Maybe next time you'll listen to me before you run, big brother."

"Celes?!" I squawk, nearly reeling back in surprise. No. No! No way in hell is this my little sister. No! It isn't possible. Celes is four! Like, she's a child. My eyes dart back to Weasley then. "Tell me it isn't her, Weasel!"

"Uh, yeah, um, you see, she got one of Snape's aging . . ." His words, though, are cut off by a commotion somewhere off to our right follow by the first volley of food.

I instantly grab Hermione and pull her towards me. When I turn back, Celes and Weasley are gone. How in the hell did my little sister grow up so fast? More food flies through the air, landing nearby us. I do my very best to duck-and-weave to protect us, but there is after all only so much one person can do. When Blaise and Theo and their dates join in, I decide enough is enough. Grabbing Hermione's hand, I pull her towards the nearest door. To my left, I notice Harry is doing the same with Luna. I should tell him that I ran into a teenage version of our little sister. However, I focus more on getting out of there and lose them in the crowd.

It isn't long before I find myself in the dungeons again with Hermione beside me. She's laughing softly as we near the portrait to Severus's rooms.

"Oh, let her have her fun, Draco," Hermione says softly.

"She's four, though."

"She might be four, but clearly she's a very resourceful and determined four-year-old. Not to mention, Fred seemed to be the perfect gentleman with her. I don't think you have to worry about anything. They looked like they were just good friends. Nothing more. And Fred is rather smart."

"You're positive?"

"I am." She smiles before she rakes her teeth across her bottom lip nervously. "I believe you were about to kiss me, Draco."

I stare at her for a moment before I sigh quietly.

"That was before I learned my little sister took a potion to age herself into a teenager."

"So, no kiss then. Got it." She shrugs before she grabs my hand. "Want to go inside and talk?"

I glance towards the portrait and then to Hermione. "Yeah. I would." The portrait then swings open, and we step inside. I draw my wand a moment later. "But first, let's get rid of the cake, shall we?" Her grin widens as she nods. I flick my wand at her first and then me, magicking the cake away.

In the soft lighting and the fire crackling around us, the mood starts to prod me again. I stare at Hermione, seeing how beautiful she truly is. I can't believe I was such a right git to her when we were second-years.

Once more my hand finds a stray curl of hers. I brush it back as I lick my lips. There's so much excitement pulsing through me. I can barely think straight again.

"Oh, honestly," she suddenly says, taking me by surprise. She grabs ahold of my shirt and yanks me into her. Our lips crash into one another as a result. Pure electricity sparks between us. However, it's as if everything is out of focus. Everything but her that is.

I find myself wanting more from her so I part my lips more before I deepen our kiss. However, I soon find myself falling backwards as she puts more of her weight onto me. Who would have known that Miss Granger was a bit of a wild cat when it comes to love? We tumble to the floor soon after, giggling once we settle.

I hold her in my arms, staring up at her.

This night may not have been perfect, but it sure as hell is damn close. I never want it to end.

She gives a quiet yawn a few moments later, and my smile deepens.

Another Draco might have made a sexual remark, but as it is, I only brush back her hair. "It'll be a few hours before the others return," I state coolly. "You could rest in my bed for a bit."

"Only if you hold me."

"Deal." We head to my room not long after, not caring what'd happen if we were discovered.