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Unexpected	By : draconisdemented Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 26235 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Author's Note: A few people have said that the stuff about the
gods was confusing, so I'll try to clear it up a bit. (clears throat) Most
'old' cultures worshiped a certain group of gods, a 'pantheon'. The five
primary pantheons are the Celtic, the Egyptian, the Greek, the Norse and the
Roman. Some people group the Greek and Roman pantheons together since they have
many similar qualities, and I myself have in other stories. But in this one,
they are separate, as they should be. Now, each of those pantheons had 'dark'
gods and 'light' gods, a good example being Zeus and Hades. Each were Kings,
but Zeus ruled in the sky, whereas Hades ruled in the Underworld. So Cous, us,
who's parents were never listed in anything I've read, I made thildhild of the
Dana, the Celtic 'Queen' Goddess, and Afallach, the 'King' of the Celtic Underworld.
But I won't be going deep into their histories,
I don't think, so you don't have to worry about knowing that much about them.
They're mostly just background characters anyway. If I missed anything or
anyone still has any questions, please let me know!

French Translations: ((example))

��....

Virginia stretched lazily, the
tightening of her les les feeling exquisite. She was looking forward to the
coming evening, as she, Draco and Blaise would finally get to go on their date
to Hogsmeade. It was Saturday, but a week after their original plans had been
set for, a week after they'd 'come back from the dead', as everyone so loved to
remind them. Draco had been so angry when Snape had told them that their deaths
had already been publicly announced that she and Blaise had had to take him for
a hunt in the forest before he was able to even form a coherent sentence. She
hadn't understood why at first, but when they'd gone back to classes on Monday,
she'd understood perfectly.

The mixed looks and whispers of awe and hate that followed them
everywhere were the most annoying and infuriating things she'd ever had to endure.
They'd been splashed across every front page of every published magazine and
newspaper in their world, and Dumbledore had been evicting the press off of the
grounds almost four times a day, along with gawking witches and wizards who
wanted one of two things: To meet them or to assassinate them. But what really
didn't help them gain any peace was the fact that every altar within a two
hundred mile radius had sprung back to life after over a millennium. Purebloods
and halfbloods alike were flocking to them from all over the world, claiming it
was a miracle.

There were three views on what had caused said miracle, however.
The first was what had been printed; that she, Blaise and Draco were Cocidius's
Chosen (Draco had been quite
angry that that had become public
knowledge, as well). The second was the opinion of those who followed
Voldemort; that he had brought the
altars back to life, that he had the
favor of a god, and that Dumbledore was only using the three of them for cover.
The third opinion was the one that most muggleborns were taking; that it was a
fluke, a freak occurrence, and that maybe, just maybe, the gods did have
something to do with it, but if they had, it was on their own, not because of
anyone in particular. Personally, she didn't give a damn what they thought, if
they'd only leave them alone.

"Virginia?" Pansy's voice
questioned, using the portrait to call into the room. Sitting up and pulling
the dark green sheet around her, she told the portrait to let her in. Seconds
later, Pansy appeared out of the short entranceway, her dark hair floating
around her smirking face. The mahogany brown tresses had been long up until
last year, when she'd cut them off to her chin. It suited her sharp, angular
face better in Virginia's opinion.

"'Lo, Pansy." Virginia mumbled tiredly,
rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes. And, as she had every morning
since Hermione had told her more about muggles, she thanked the gods that she
was a witch and hadn't had 'morning breath' since she was six, courtesy of a
permanent, life-long charm. Scrunching her nose in distaste at the thought, she
didn't even realize she had spaced off until Pansy laughed, waving a hand in
front of her face.

"You awake?" She teased. "Because you didn't look
it there for a minute."

"Hmph." Virginia huffed. "Well, some people around here still need a
little sleep once in a while." She said, glaring towards the bathroom
where her boyfriends were currently hidden behind the leafy green foliage. She
heard the faintest echo of a masculine laugh through the soothing noise of the
waterfall, and glared harder, knowing that they'd heard her. Bastards. Pansy
gave her a knowing, sympathetic glance.

"I take it they don't even need the few hours of sleep they
did before, then?"

"Oh nooooooooooooooo." Virginia grumped, purposely
lowering her voice just to agitate them. "The big, bad vampires got all
the perks out of this deal." The Mark on her arm glittered and tingled,
and she shot it an adoring, exasperated look. "Joking." She murmured,
causing Pansy to laugh again, although there was that same wonder-filled
glimmer in her eyes that was in everyone else's when they looked directly at
one of their Marks, even those who hated the three of them and said it was all
a lie.

"So, does He�monitor you all the time, or something?"
Pansy asked, looking up and meeting Virginia's eyes.

"No." Virginia replied, smirking.
"It's almost like the Mark has a mind of its own."

"Do you feel any�different
because of it?" She asked, and Virginia

"Umm,"e ste started, not really knowing what to say. She
couldn't understand why Pansy looked so anxious for her answer, or why she'd
seemed almost scared at the possibility that Virginia might not be exactly the
same as she had been before. And in truth, she did feel different. But it wasn't a bad different. It was
comforting, completing, to have small
shots of divinity ceaselessly racing through her veins, and it was even better
when she was with Draco and Blaise.

The Marks also connected them to each other, sort of like a
mind-meld spell that hadn't been deactivated and sat dormant aummiumming in the
back of your consciousness, a constant reassurance. And there were other
things�But she was almost sure that wasn't what Pananteanted to hear, and she
couldn't fathom why. Pansy was one of the most accepting people she'd ever met
when it came to the strange and unnatural. And in their world, 'strange' and
'unnatural' could be a number of things much more disturbing then what had been
altered inside of them. So what if the world looked different to her eyes now?
So what if those with any nonmagical blood running through their veins
sometimes smelled like prey? There was nothing she could do about it, nothing
she would do about it, except block
it out like she'd been doing. And it was another good reason to surround
herself with Slytherins.

"If you're trying to seduce our girlfriend, Parkinson, you'll
have to do better than that." Blaise said, appearing from behind a huge
Imperial Blackleaf and pushing its large, green and purplish-black leaves back.

He had nothing but a thick, black towel wrapped around his waist,
hanging low on his hips, and had produced a bottle of wine from�somewhere. It
was open already, and moisture coated the dark green glass. Honestly, they had
wine stashes everywhere. His long
black hair was dripping wet and hanging down his back, the blue and purple
lowlights lost among the water-laden tresses. Draco came out seconds after him,
a matching towel slung around his waist and his hair just as wet. But he had
two bottles of wine to Blaise's one, and his hair was still metallic, even
while weighed down by the water. Watching the play of muscles as they moved
distracted her to the point that Pansy laughed again, snapping her out of her
very unladylike mental imaginings.

"I don't believe you have anything to worry about."
Pansy replied as they glided up to them, and looked pointedly at Virginia. Instead of blushing,
she sneered.

"Jealous, dear?" She asked, and Pansy's smirk
reappeared. Before she could retort, however, Draco sighed.

"I knew it." He said morosely. "She's after our bodies. Damn. Whatever shall we
do?" He asked, directing the question at Blaise, who put on a thoughtful
expression.

"Well, she obviously can't resist our magnificence."
Blaise replied haughtily, sticking his nose in the air. "So I say we sit
back and watch them fuck."

"Blaise!!" Virginia and Pansy exclaimed
at once, while Draco started snickering.

"What?" He asked innocently, taking a long swig of the wine
in his hand. Draco handed Virginia one of the bottles he
was holding, still laughing, and gave Pansy the other. He walked over to the star-strewn
wall, said 'Caliga', and a panel appeared from nowhere. He pulled out another
bottle, proving Virginia's point beautifully.
There were four hidden caches in the bedroom alone.

"You're both horrid creatures." Pansy huffed, the hint
of a grin on her face ruining her threatening posture. Blaise smirked and bowed
mockingly before moving towards the wardrobe.

"Sure, sure. Now, love," he said, flashing Virginia a disarming smile,
"will you be requiring clothes, or do we get to take you out in nothing
but our bed sheet?"

" tot that he's complaining." Draco added, half of his
wine already mysteriously gone. Virginia sighed, stag ang and
keeping the sheet tucked tightly around her.

"Clothes, please." She replied, ignoring their looks of
disappointment and sitting the bottle on the bed for later. "I'll be back
in a minute."

They nodded, and she made her way for the bathroom slowly, letting
the rich, exotic scents wash over her. She absolutely loved their bathroom, and
knew that it had quite horribly spoiled her. But how could she resist? It was
perfect. If she'd ever given any thought to what her dream bathroom would be
like, it would definitely have been something remarkably similar. She parted
the low, over-hanging leaves out of her way and let them fall closed behind
hehe she sound of the waterfall was more pronounced, and she let the sheet fall
from her as she slid into the warm water. Draco and Blaise had asked her to
join them earlier, but she'd been too lazy.

She regretted it now, as their presence would have made the bath
all the more enjoyable, but she'd been exhausted. They'd stayed up late the
night before, chatting with the Slytherins, who seemed to be almost frantic
with the worry that they would just disappear at any moment. And her brother,
Harry, Hermione and Lauren had been stopping by almost every night, which the
Slytherins were

"Au loin." Blaise replied, tilting her head to wash the
shampoo from her hair. "Faire cela avoir de l'importance?" He asked
as the last of the suds came out, and she shook her head. ((Away. Does it
matter?))

She would have verbally responded, but one mouth covered hers and
the other li and and nibbled a chilly, delicious trail down her neck. Tingling
sparks flared up inside of her, and she responded eagerly, letting her lips be
devoured and devouring in turn. The storm of sensations the two of them created
in her was very nearly overwhelming, but she wouldn't have traded it for
anything in the world. The soft, icy lips continued kissing down her shoulder
and over her collarbone, before flicking teasingly across her nipple. She
gasped into Blaise's mouth, arching her back and purring in delight. Their kiss
turned hungry, demanding, and both yielded to it unthinkingly.

Sharp teeth bit her nipple just hard enough to draw a trickle of
blood, and she moaned, feeling her knees go weak. Strong, sure hands gripped
her hips and pushed her forcibly into the wall, knowing with an expert's
finesse just how much she would like it. Her back met the warm, stone wall just
hard enough to sting, and the rough pain doubled her pleasure, turning the heat
running through her veins into molten lava. A body was pressed against either
side of her, and Blaise's mouth had never left hers. He nipped her lips sharply
and her blood mingled between them. Blaise growled, renewing the kiss furiously
and cupping her breasts with his hands as Draco's mouth left her wanting skin.

She moaned again, half in pleasure, half in disappointment, before
a chilled tongue swirled over her aching heat and made her scream. It was
muffled around the lips on her mouth, and the small bit of comprehension she'd still
possessed disappeared, along with any and all self-control. It all came back to
the basics; to pure, aching instincts, their passand and groans of delight as
old as time. Fingernails like small knives trailed over the smooth inner flesh
of her thigh as her world began to swim around her, the colors melting
together. She was barely aware of begging them to take her, but she was
entirely aware when they did. Complete.
She knew that she thought the word altogether too much, but it truly was the
only one that came close to describing the way they made her feel, the way this made her feel.

Complete was feeling their flesh surrounding hers, feeling their
hearts beating in sync. Complete was their touch, their smell, their rare
smiles. Complete was their silky hair mingling with hers in a concealing
curtain that fell around them, a patched mass of silver, black and blood.
Complete was the low, sensual sounds of appreciation and devotion that escaped
their throats in ragged gasps. Complete was teeth and nails and sweet, sweet
pain, soothed and spiced with caring adoration. Complete was twin sets of
sharp, deadly fangs sinking into her skin, drawing her blood and replacing it
with unadulterated ecstasy. Complete was having them inside of her, filling her
body and soul, pounding and thrusting, ravishing and loving.

"Oh gods!" She screamed as the ecstasy peaked and crashed
over her in a thundering, frosty wave, her throaty voice swallowed up by the
rushing water and their own cries of release.

Her nails raked down Draco's chiseled back as Blaise's teeth moved
from her neck to her shoulder, and her limbs began trembling violently. Her
muscles gave out completely, and they sunk into the water listlessly, their limbs
intertwined, and content, satisfied looks gracing their features. Draco and
Blaise's fingers ran unerringly over every inch of her, whispered murmurs in
French dancing over her spirit as healing hands lessened the bruises, leaving
them faded and slightly aching, as they knew she liked them. Soft reminders,
she'd called them once, and they'd told her e wae was no need, seeing as how
they'd make new ones for her anytime she wished.

They didn't bother to heal their own at all, as they relished the
pain even more than she did, which she strongly suspected had something to do
with their vampiric blood. Or maybe not. But regardless, the marks meant
something to each of them and they cherished every one. Before, she'd never
known what a little blood and pain could add to sex, and she seriously doubted
that it would be appealing were they anyone else. They seemed to bring out the
parts of her that she had fought so long and hard to deny and hide while in Gryffindor Tower, and she thanked them
more for it everyday. She had never felt so free in her life, and if there was
one thing she was determined about, it was that no one would ever take it away
from her again.

��..

Hermione sighed. Boys couldn't take longer to do anything if they
tried. How very, very sad. Shaking her head, she called up the stairs again.
"Harry! Ron! Are you almost
ready? You heard what she said!"

"We know, we know!" Ron's voice echoed back down to her
from the boys' dorms, sounding annoyed. "If we don't get there before
seven, she'll leave anyway! It's those damn Slytherins' influence, I tell
you!" Rolling her eyes, Hermione went and sat back down by Lauren.

"In boy speak, they'll be another ten minutes." She
said, sighing again. Lauren grinned.

"Yeah, well at least you get to go. My mum said if I get
another detention this term, that's she's going to give our tickets to the
Quidditch World Cup away. Can you believe
that?"

"Erm�" Hermione said, not sure how to respond. She
really didn't like Quidditch. It was a stupid, ruthless and barbaric game if
you asked her, butone one did. They knew how she felt about their sport of
choice already.

"Bloody ridiculous, if you ask me." Lauren continued.
"It's not my fault the teachers all hate me." Hermione laughed
stiffly, the thought of all her teachers hating her being almost too horrible
to imagine. The seconds crawled by, and exa nin nine and a half minutes later,
the boys finally emerged from the dark staircase.

"It's about time." Hermione said grouchily, having been
ready herself for nearly an hour.

It was only four, but she didn't want to be late and arrive at a
common room full of Slytherins who hated them and who, quite conveniently,
would be there without Ginny, Draco and Blaise. Ginny was the one who really
kept them off their throats, since neither Blaise nor Draco really gave a damn
if the Boy Who Lived and all his friends suddenly dropped dead, but they would
stop it if it were upsetting Ginny. Which is something, she had noticed, that
it eerily didn't seem to do. In fact, sometimes she was almost sure that Ginny
could barely stand her Housemates anymore, even them, but she pushed that thought away.

She knew that as soon as Blaise and Draco left tonight, leadership
would fall to Pansy and Anton, neither of whom particularly liked the trio
either. She was pretty sure that Pansy wouldn't let the Slytherins hurt them,
even if it was only to please Ginny,
but she didn't want to put any real faith in that yet. It didn't seem like it
was going to be a problem, as it looked as if they were going to have plenty of
time, and Hermione wanted to ask Pansy if she'd decided on whether or not to
teach them a few things. It galled asking the Slytherins for help, but truth be
told, they needed it. Harry's visions were getting worse, and they were getting
desperate.

The end of their seventh year was rapidly approaching, and they
were sure down to their very bones that that
was when Voldemort would attack. And she couldn't bear the thought of Harry
having to face that madman with only the magical knowledge he had now. Not even
all of Hermione's research had been helping them, as they'd gone through every
spell book in the library and hadn't found anything new. McGonagall wouldn't
help them, the Weasleys wouldn't help them, Dumbledore wouldn't help them, and
Sirius couldn't help them. That
really only left one choice, no matter how distasteful that choice happened to
be.

"Well, come on, 'Mione." Ron said, poking her shoulder.
"You wanted us to hurry, and here we are."

"Good." She mumbled, her thoughts having turned dark.
Standing, sheded ded for the portrait, unable to do anything but picture
Pansy's sneering rejection over and over again. They needed this, damn it, but what the hell would a bunch of pampered
Slytherins know about that? Slightly shocked by the intensity and vehemence of
her thoughts, she shook her head free of them and crawled out after Ron and Harry,
waving a last goodbye to Lauren.

"So what's up, Hermione?" Harry asked. "You've been
weird all week."

"Come on, 'Mione. You can tell us." He said, sounding
sincere. Feeling slightly guilty for her outburst, she sighed and nodded.

"About what?" Harry asked, being polite about it even
though he probably already knew what she meant.

"What do you think?" Ron cut in. "It's got to be my
sister or a Slytherin. That's all Hermione cares about these days."o:p>

"Excuse me?" She asked, stopping dead on the Grand
Staircase and glaring at him. Ron shrunk back, but still responded.

"You heard me." He said. "They're all you talk
about."

"Oh, well, do
forgive me for caring whether we live or die!" ret retorted hotly.

"We don't need them!"

trying to find a way to help us! All you do is sit around, eat and
play Quidditch!" She yelled, and he looked as if she'd slapped him.
Wishing she had, she pushed past the two of them, storming down the stairs.

The landing between the fifth and fourth floor began moving just
as she reached it, and she was so angry she did something she'd seen other
students do before, but had never tried herself. She picked her pace up a bit
and leaped the gap, landing hard on the other side and having to grab onto the
rail to get her balance back. Her ankle had nearly twisted underneath her, but
otherwise it had been all right. Looking back, she saw Harry and Ron halfway
down the set of stairs she'd just been on, their wands out as if they'd meant
to catch her when she fell and their mouths hanging wide open. The first
genuinely cheerful grin she'd experienced in days lit up on her face, and she
blew them a mocking kiss.

She got off at the next landing, continuing her way down to the
dungeons, knowing that they'd catch up with her before she got there. Her pulse
was still racing, and she couldn't stop smiling. That had to have been the best
bout of 'stalking off' that she'd ever done. Feeling immensely pleased with
herself, she hummed happily to herself, admiring the paintings as she hadn't
done for years. She vowed that she would more often before the year was up,
feeling slightly sad that her time there was almost over. She womissmiss
Hogwarts, but she had more pressing things to worry about than a young girl's
normal fears about life after school. Letting her thoughts wander back to her
getaway, she didn't even see the person before she ran headlong into them.

"Ow!" She yelped as she hit the ground, her hand bending
awkwardly under her weight. Pain shot sharply up her wrist and she groaned as
stars flashed in front of her eyes.

"What the-" She heard her assailant mutter indignantly,
and looked up only to meet Lycelle Parkinson's hazel eyes. "Granger?"
The girl asked, leaping to her feet in one smooth movement. "What are
you�Oh. Going to see them before they wine and dine?"

"Erm, yes." Hermione said, put off by the strange girl's
almost nice tone and the wrenching
pain in her wrist. Cradling the injured hand in her lap, she pulled herself to
her feet using the wall as leverage.

"What happe&quo" The girl asked, gesturing to her hand.an>

"I fell on it." She said, the irony of the situation not
escaping her. Seconds after she had congratulated herself on not twisting her
ankle, she twisted her wrist instead. Perfect. The girl cocked an eyebrow, and
then took out her wand.

"I know a pain-numbing spell." She said. "It'll
last for an hour, but I wouldn't keep it on that long before getting it healed
if I were you." There was only the faintest hint of dislike in that last
part, whereas most of her Housemates would have laid it on thick.

"A-Alright." Hermione finally agreed, having mostly
convinced herself that a third year wasn't going to kill her in the middle of
the stairway, not even a Slytherin. The girl moved closer and spoke a spell,
the pain vanishing instantly.

"Thanks." Hermione said, but Lycelle acted as if she
hadn't even heard her.

"Well, come on then. Let's go get you patched up." She
said, turning back the way she'd come.

"Shouldn't I go to the Hospital Wing?" Hermione asked,
and the girl just stared for a moment.

"If we didn't take Blaise to the Hospital Wing, what the hell
makes you think we'd need to go there over this?"
She asked, and it was Hermione's turn to stare.

"Don't you ever go there?" She asked the girl as they
started walking again. "Draco did in our third year."

"Yeah, Pansy told me. But that happened in class and it gave
him a good way to annoy Weasley and Potter."

"So you all learn Healing?"

"Yes. Some, anyway. But become Healers? No. That, as I'm sure
you're aware of, is a talent you're either born with or you're not, although
many have the potential."

"Do you?" Hermione asked, hoping the young Slytherin
wouldn't take offence at her curiosity. She didn't seem to, though, and
Hermione wondered why.

"Yes. Many could be. It's choosing
to be that makes the difference. Do you?" The girl asked, turning
Hermione's question back on her.

"Yes. And I'd like-"

"Hermione!"
Ron's bellow cut her off mid-sentence. "There you are! Why did you do that? You could have been hurt!"

"I was fine, Ron."

"What's wrong with your hand?" Harry asked as they drew
even with them. Sighing for what felt like the fifteenth time that day, she
explained her run-in with Lycelle as they continued on their way to the
dungeons. Ron was against her not going to Madam Pompfrey, but clipped words
and a heavy glare had shut him up. It didn't stop him from shooting Lycelle
distrusting looks and from being an ass, however.

"So you're Parkinson's
sister?" He asked the girl, who had tensed and withdrawn as soon as the
boys had shown up.

"Yes." She said shortly.

"Sorry for that." Ron said, ignoring the girl's
withering glare. "It must be hard on you."

"Shut up, Gryffindor."

"Make me, Slytherin."

"Honestly!" Hermione finally yelled after another five
straight minutes of bickering. "Ron, you do realize that you're fighting
with a third year, right?" She hadn't meant the 'third year' part as a
slight to Lycelle, but the girl looked affronted.

"Yes, well, you just entered that third year's territory, so
I'd advise you to all to shut the fuck up."
Her angry voice and blazing eyes did shut
Ron up, but Hermione felt the need to apologize. The girl had been okay towards
her, after all.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

"Whatever." Lycelle replied, walkinead ead of them. They
went down the spiraling stairs in silence, before a painting that she'd somehow
never noticed before caught her attention, one depicting a silver haired,
mercury-eyed wizard.

"Draco has a portrait hanging down here?" She
questioned, looking at the face that she had watched change over the years into
what it was now. "But I thought you had to be-"

"That's not Draco." Lycelle said nonchalantly, not even
looking back over her shoulder to see which painting Hermione had been
referring to. Startled, Hermione looked again. She didn't know who the girl was
trying to fool, but that was definitely
Draco, down to the piercing gaze that had locked onto her and the disgusted
sneer twisting the painting's lips.

"What? Of course it is." She argued. Lycelle did turn
then, annoyance written across her small, dainty features.

"Do they teach you anything?"
She asked, then seemed to catch herself and continued in a softer voice.
"It's not Draco."

"Then who?" Hermione asked, out of her element and not
liking it one bit. The girl obviously thought she should know who it was, but
the only person she'd ever seen that looked like that was Draco.

"Salazar Slytherin." Lycelle said, and the Gryffindors
gasped, moving closer to get a better look. Sure enough, there was an elaborately
engraved silver name plaque along the bottom length of the frame, clearly
reading 'SALAZAR SLYTHERIN, FOUNDER OF SLYTHERIN HOUSE, ORDER OF MERLIN, FIRST
CLASS. INVENTOR OF NUMEROUS POTIONS AND SPELLS, AND A PROMINENT SUPPORTER OF
THE DARK ARTS. 910 B.C. � 1075 A.D.'

"Oh Lord." Hermione mumbled. Then louder, "Why do
they look so much alike?" Lauren opened her mouth to reply, but the
painting cut her off.

"It is none of thy business, mudblood, why one of my favorite students resembles me. Nor is it
thy place to pollute my dungeons. Parkinson! What in Tartarus is she doing down here?" Lycelle paled,
before responding immediately and automatically.

"She has leave, my Lord." The girl replied, and Hermione
wondered why she was showing so much deferencea paa painting, even if it did happen to be one depicting their
House's Founder.

"Leave from whom?" The painting asked suspiciously.

"Draco and Blaise, my Lord." The girl said, and the
painting looked almost sulky, as if it had been denied a delectable treat.

"Hmph." Salazar intoned. "And might I inquire as to
why they have let this�trash into my
House? From what I can see, these are the three Gryffindors that they like even less than most of the others. Red
hair, frizzy hair, and an ugly scar. It has to be them. Surely thy jests."

"No, my Lord. I do not jest. They allow it for Virginia." Lycelle
replied, and Salazar looked thoughtful.

"Well, she's
alright. Quite pretty, too. Fine, thine may pass." He said, waving a hand
dismissively and causing Hermione to wonder what he would have done had they
passed anyway, without him giving the okay. It was just a painting, right?

"Come on." Lycelle hissed when they didn't move, and
they started down the dark corridor. The torches flickered in their brackets,
casting long, impenetrable shadows along the walls and pooling in the corners.
When they reached Slytherin Houses' entrance, Lycelle whispered the password in
an inaudible tone and they went in. Silence fell as it did every time when the
Slytherins realized they were there, and they ignored it as best they could.

"Stay here." Lycelle said, as if were necessary.

Like they woultualtually try to explore with what felt like a
thousand malicious sets of eyes trained on their every movement. Right. Maybe
if they were suicidal. The girl disappeared into one of the many dark
passageways that led from the common room, leaving them alone in an atmosphere
humming with tension. She spotted Pansy through the jumble of green and black
robes, and gave a sigh of relief. The other girl was currently laying on one of
the couches, her head on Melody's thigh and her feet in Anton's lap. They were
laughing about something, but Pansy seemed to feel the eyes on her and turned.
Seeing Hermione looking at hehe rhe rose gracefully and padded over to them on
silent feet.

"Granger." Pansy acknowledged with a tilt of her head.

It amazed Hermione every day how pretty the girl had become. She'd
always seemed small, especially when she was around Millicent, but she was
actually pretty tall when you got right next to her. Her eyes were as dark a
brown as her hair, and the pugish sort-of nose she'd had as a child looked simply
striking on her older, sharper face. She was still petite, but muscles now
graced her slender form from hours of playing Quidditch, which she'd been doing
ever since she'd joined the team last year. Her mouth was the color of pale
strawberries, but Hermione thought it looked much better when a nasty sneer
wasn't twisting her lips, as one currently was.

"Pansy." She replied, purposely using the girl's first
name. Pansy's eyes narrowed momentarily, but she otherwise ignored it, her gaze
moving over Hermione's shoulder.

"Ron!" A low, velvety female voice called from behind
them, the they spun to see Ginny looking radiant as she crossed the room,
heading towards them. She was very nearly glowing, a brilliant smile on her
face and her hair dripping on the floor as she moved. The Slytherins she passed
greeted her with an air of familiarity and (gasp)
friendship, which she returned unthinkingly. She was wearing a loose black and
silver bathrobe over dark blue pajamas, and looked totally at home. It was new
to them, as she'd never looked that way in Gryffindor Tower, or even at the
Burrow.

"Hey Ginny." Hermione greeted her as she finally reached
them. Ginny's fire-laced charcoal eyes swept over her, and Hermione saw that
glimmer again, that flicker of something dark, something she subconsciously
felt it was better not to know about. It was gone as quickly as it came,
Ginny's eyes moving on to her brother and skipping over Harry entirely.

"When are you leaving?" Her brother asked, even though
they were all aware that he already knew, seeing as he'd asked the same
question about a million times. Ever since the 'Incident', as they called it, his
normal over-protective older brother routine had stepped up about twenty
notches. It might have had something to do with the fact that every one of his
brothers had cornered him in a deserted classroom and threatened to�Well, it
hadn't been pretty, to say the least.

"Seven, Ron, for the fourteen millionth time." Ginny
said, rolling her eyes.

"Hmph." Ron grunted, rocking back on his heels.
"Are you going like that?"
He asked derisively. There were hisses of warning from the surrounding Slytherins,
who weren't even trying to conceal the fact that they were listening to every
word.

"Of course not." Ginny replied coolly. Harry made sosmalsmall movement, and her eyes swiftly flashed to him, filled with a predatorial intensity
that was just on this side of 'extremely frightening'. She drug those
disturbing eyes away from him almost immediately, focusing again on her
brother, the odd light once more dormant. Hermione's breath rushed out in a
whoosh, and she realized she didn't even know when she begun holding it. It was
that kind of look that worried her. Ginny never looked at the Slytherins or
Lauren and Ron that way; only her and Harry. And it was the same way Draco and
Blaise looked at them.

"And you'll wear something respectable? Something red?"
Her brother questioned. The look Ginny gave him could have melted glass.

"I'll wear what I please." Ginny said, a hint of a growl
in her voice. Ron looked dubious.

"And just where are�they?"

"They," Ginny
replied scathingly, "have names."

"Fine." Ron grumped, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Where are Malfoy and Zabini?" Knowing that was the best she would
get, Ginny rolled her eyes again and replied.

"Getting dressed." She said, an amused, telling smirk
appearing on her face. Ron blanched, his arms falling to his sides, and screwed
his eyes shut tightly, as if he were trying desperately to erase something from
his mind.

"Right." He finally said, his eyes reopening. "What
time will you be back?"

"Whenever she pleases." A mockingce rce replied, and
they watched in surprise as Blaise slid silently into sight. Draco was nowhere
to be seen, which wnusunusual with the two of them. Ginny looked slightly
surprised herself, but didn't mention it. Ron, of course, did.

"Where's your other half, Zabini?" He asked, his face
scrunched up in a mixture of his almost-constant anger and disgust. Blaise
didn't even glance over as he took Ginny's hand, his eyes trained up towards
the darkness that obscured the ceiling. Her eyes followed his, then widened
slightly.

"What is he doing?" She asked, and the Gryffindors
looked up too. They couldn't see anything except two dark, empty balconies.

"The clabbert got loose." Blaise said, a hint of
amusement in his tone.

"Again?" Ginny groaned. "How far up?"

"The top." Blaise replied, his amusement thickening. A
small smile quirked Ginny's lips and she nodded.

"He's going to be mad if it rips his dress robes." She
commented dryly. Blaise's grin turned feral.

"I wouldn't worry about that." He said, his eyes
following what Hermione assumed was Draco's progress through the darkness.

A minute passed in which it seemed they had forgotten the
Gryffindors were there, laughing softly to themselas tas they watched what the
others couldn't see. Then, a part of the darkness turned shimmery, and Hermione
realized it was Draco's hair. Except there was something else, and he was climbing down the wall like a cat would a tree, in
the small space between the two halves of the first balcony. Sharp silver claws
slid easily in and out of the stone, and when she squinted, she swore she could
see other similar markings already on the wall. He jumped off when he was just
clear of the balcony, landing easily and turning to face them.

He was bare-chested, wearing only a dark green pair of baggy pajama
pants, and she realized what Blaise had meant about not worrying about his
robes. The claws were obviously retractable, as they slid back into his skin in
the blink of an eye. Corded muscles played under his pale flesh, and he glided
over the floor with a slow, natural grace. There was a creature wrapped around
his neck and arm, but all she could see at first was that it had its face
buried in the Mark on Draco's forearm, rubbing against it and squealing
happily. Small shivers shot down her spine as she gazed upon the parts of the
Mark that she could see, but Ron's hands were visibly shaking as he looked at
it.

The creature looked up, and she gasped when she realized that
Blaise had been completely serious, and that they really did have a clabbert. It was smallish; the size of a monkey, but its
hide was a green the color of summer oak leaves and scaled like a dragon's. It
had fully working little hands, thumbs included, and webbing between its
fingers and toes. Tiny, inch long horns grew from either side of its head, and
it had a face that vaguely resembled a human's. Its large mouth was set in a
wide grin, showing that all of its teeth were pointy, and it had a large bump
under the skin of its forehead. Hermione had read about the creatures before, but
she had never seen one.

"Little bugger." Draco was muttering as he walked over
to them. As soon as he reached them, the little creature took one look at her
and Harry and mewled loudly. Draco patted its head, sneering at their curious
expressions. The bump on its forehead shriveled away, revealing a red,
ruby-like stone under the skin that was glowing faintly. She'd known that the
bump would glow red around muggles, but she hadn't known that they, however
faintly, responded the same way to muggleborns, or that it was a stone that
caused the bump. And she couldn't help commenting.

"I didn't know clabberts would react that way to�" She
hesitated, finally settling on, "Me." Draco and Blaise looked as if
they would rather not even acknowledge the Gryffindors' existence, let alone
answer her. Ginny glanced back and forth between them, before finally nudging
them both in the ribs.

"Let's sit." Draco suggested as the clabbert perched
itself on his shoulder, oddly reminding Hermione of pirate movies she'd seen as
a child. She steadfastly refused to look at his bare chest as they went to a
group of empty couches and cushions, settling themselves as best they could.
The clabbert scrambled off of Draco's shoulder and ran over to Hermione,
circling around her and chattering wildly. It finally creeped closer, poked her
leg with an outstretched finger, and yelped, jumping back and into Ginny's
arms. Feeling slightly insulted, she smoothed her robe and drew her lips
together tightly.

"She smells funny." The thing squeaked, startling the
Gryffindors so badly that they almost jumped off their seats.

"It talks?" Ron asked in disbelief. "I didn't know
they could talk."

"As if I would make it a habit to talk to a blood-traitor
like you." The little creature
spat, before pushing up Ginny's sleeve and nudging her Mark, a rattling purr
rising from its throat. Hermione felt vague tingles run up her spine again and
tried to ignore them, focusing on the clabbert. The talking clabbert.

"Have you seen who you're sitting on?" Ron responded
hotly. "That's my sister you're rubbing
your squatty little head against." The creature leaped, lightning quick,
and slapped Ron hard on the face before darting away again. They could do
nothing but stare for a moment, before the Slytherins all started laughing.
Even Ginny was having a hard time keeping a straight face. Ron's cheek had a
tiny, bright red handprint on it, and he looked stunned.p>

"Did we forget to mention not to insult it?" Blaise
asked, a vicious smirk dancing across his lips.

"Forget?" Ron asked in a high voice, the handprint
beginning to disappear as his whole face turned red. "Keeping things like
that�You're all completely screwed in the head."

"Perhaps." Draco replied. "But I'm not the one
sitting around chitchatting while one of my Housemates is hurt." The trio
looked taken aback, as they had all completely forgotten about Hermione's
wrist. Remembering the pain numbing charm, she looked up in surprise. Harry and
Ron were looking at her guiltily, obviously feeling bad. She looked at Draco,
however.

"How did you know?" She asked, horribly curious.

"There are burst blood vessels under the skin of your right wrist."
He said, his voice bland, and she wasn't really sure that asking him had been
such a great idea anymore. She just knew that she wasn't comfortable with the
fact that he seemed able to smell her blood while it was all still inside of
her.

"Oh." She said weakly. Then drawing herself up, she
continued. "I forgot about it because of the pain reducing spell. Lycelle
wanted me to get it healed here instead of at the Hospital Wing." No one
said anything for a moment, as the Slytherins just stared at her as if she'd
gone crazy.

"Not a problem." Ginny finally said, and then looked at
her boyfriends. Their eyes widened and they shook their heads.

"No way."

"I don't think so."

"Please?" Ginny asked, skipping an argument and hitting
low. They both glared and sighed.

"Why can't she do it herself?" Draco questioned, looking
slightly rebellious. "She's healed Weasley before." Hermione knew she
had to look sheepish as she responded.

"I haven't gotten that far yet." She said, not able to
meet his gaze. She knew by now that he was a really good Healer, and she also knew
the contempt that she would see in his silver eyes.

"I'll flip you for it." She heard Blaise offer, and her
eyes shot back up. Draco nodded, and Blaise pulled a galleon from somewhere.
"Heads or tails?"

"Tails." Draco said, and the coin tumbled into the air
in a smooth arc, landing back on Blaise's hand.

"Hah! Heads. Your go." Blaise said triumphantly. Draco
grimaced, sliding off the couch, and she couldn't help a shiver of anticipation
running down her spine. Wait�Anticipation!?
Stop, Hermione, just stop. Looking back up, she saw Blaise watching her,
the look on his face resembling the one he had given her in the Great Hall over
a week ago. His hand shot out, clasping Draco's shoulder and causing him to
turn.

"Quel?" Draco asked. ((What?))

"I'll make you a deal." Blaise said, then leaned forward
and whispered something in Draco's ear. A smirk later and they had switched
places, much to the Gryffindors' suspicion. Blaise moved the three feet to the
cushion Hermione was on, his knowing eyes burning into hers. He was amazingly
quick about the entire thing, although she was positive that he made the
process hurt a little more than it had to, but it was over in less than twenty
seconds. He returned to his previous spot on the couch, and wiped his hands off
on a silk handkerchief. Again insulted, Hermione tore her eyes away.

"Uh oh, Blaise." The little creature said in a singsong
voice, jumping onto his lap. "You've got her stink on you now. Better go
wash." Blaise looked utterly disgusted and made a face at the creature
before wiping his hands on it. The thing squealed, pawing at its face and
spluttering curses. It finally calmed down, then looked up at Blaise and
glared.

"I'm going to tell your mother." It threatened, spinning
in furious circles on his lap. "I'm going to tell your mother that you
wiped muggle on me!"

"She's not a muggle!" Ron exclaimed, his face becoming
red again.

"Same difference." The creature said dismissively.
"Not pure." Wanting to change the subject, Hermione turned to Pansy,
who'd been sitting quietly and watching them.

"Did you decide on what I asked you?" She questioned,
and Pansy shook her head.

"Not yet. There hadn't been time to bring it up." She
replied, and then turned to face Blaise and Draco. "They want us to teach
them how to fight." She told them, her face serious, and they simply looked
at her for a while as silence descended thickly around the room, the word
spreading quickly.

"And why," Draco asked, his voice soft and dangerous,
"would we want to do that?" Hermione didn't understand the sudden
tension in the air, but kept her mouth silent that time.

"Potter's scared."

"I am not!"
Harry yelled, jumping to his feet. Quite a few of the Slytherins drew their
wands at his sudden movement, but Blaise motioned for them to put them away. They
did so, however reluctantly, and Hermione breathed again.

"Then why, Potter?" Draco asked, leaning back into the
pillows behind him.

"Don't ask me! I
sure as fuck don't want your
help!" Harry said, his face contorted with rage.

"And you won't have it." Blaise hissed, the purple in
dark blue eyes becoming more prominent.

"No, wait!" Hermione said before they could completely
lose it and turn this into more than just a verbal argument. "We really do
need your help. Harry, sit down."
He did as she asked, but was still fuming badly enough that she was surprised
smoke wasn't rising from his ears.

"What exactly are you asking for, Hene?&ne?" Ginny
asked, laying a hand on each of her boyfriends' arms. They seemed to calm at
her touch, and moved closer.

"Lessons." Hermione started. "In�In the D-Dark Arts,
if that's what's needed. Everyone knows," she hesitated, "that Voldemort's
going to come for Harry, that it's only a matter of time. He can't fight him
with only what he knows now."

"You are aware of
how incredibly stupid you would have to be to fight him in the first place,
right?" Blaise asked, tilting his head and examining them. Harry, looking
offended, opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione stopped him with a glance.

"Yes." She answered through gritted teeth. That had been
harder than she'd thought it would be.

"And you realize that he'll probably kill you?" Draco
questioned.

"He'll probably kill you, too." Harry said bitterly
before she could stop him. But Draco only smiled.

"No, he won't."

"I knew it!" Ron shouted, pumping a fist in the air.
"I knew you were in league with him!" The murderous hisses from the
Slytherins crawled over her skin, and Ron's hand dropped back to his lap even
as his face stayed triumphant. Draco, Blaise and Ginny simply rolled their
eyes.

"You're an idiot, Ron." Ginny snapped.

"And your, your�things
are evil! And rude!"

"We are not
rude." Blaise remarked dryly. "You're simply insignificant." Ron
looked ready to pop when the Slytherins started laughing again, and Hermione
stepped in once more.

"Will you help us?" She asked, her voice earnest. They
looked at each other for a moment, then towards Ginny. Their eyes were
questioning, meaning they would let her make the decision. Ginny's eyes trailed
over the trio, that look flashing in
them again, but she nodded all the same.

"Well, well." Draco sneered. "It looks like we just
acquired some new students. You can call me Mr. Malfoy. Now, for the first
order of business," he said, clearing his throat unnecessarily,
"Weasley, you do know that you can be arrested for impersonating a human
being, right?" Ron's responding
howl of fury could be heard all the way to the Great Hall.

Please review! The bath scene earlier was weird for me, as I'm
used to writing NC-17 when it comes to that kind of thing, but since I can't post
anything more that R here�Well, just tell me if it sucked!
- 7
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