The sun hung brilliantly over the grounds as students strolled along the lakeshore or sat around lazily in groups, catching up with friends they’d missed over the holidays and taking advantage of what could be summer’s last warm and homework free weekend. Draco Malfoy, flanked by his usual oversized sentinels, Crabbe and Goyle, smirked as a second year Hufflepuff raced by, trying to catch a flying disk that whizzed over their heads. Malfoy’s foot snaked out, and the young, dark-haired boy went sprawling, looking up in indignation at the offender. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed, and Malfoy sneered at the boy, his pale eyes daring the Hufflepuff to retaliate. He didn’t, naturally, as said offender was not only a Slytherin sixth year, therefore much larger and much more skilled with a wand, but his cronies could dwarf a yeti.

“Why do you have to be such a foul git, Malfoy?� Ron Weasley demanded, glaring up at the Slytherins from his place beside his sister, Ginny, on a blanket.

Malfoy gave him an imperial sneer. “Steady on, Weasel. Where’s your precious Potter? I didn’t think you ever stepped out from under his shadow.� He didn’t pause to sling further insults; he wasn’t in the mood to fight with Weasley or the little Weaslette, who was holding onto her brother’s arm to stop him jumping on the smirking Slytherin while giving him an unladylike gesture with her free hand.

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered, endlessly entertained by their leader’s indiscriminate bullying and general rudeness. They continued along the path, across the still lush, green grass, brushing passers-by unceremoniously out of their way. “…Daddy isn’t pleased, but I promised to help him find one next summer,� a pale, waifish blonde Ravenclaw girl said, smiling dreamily. “I rather think we will. This time, we’ll know exactly where to look.�

Malfoy’s eyes gleamed unpleasantly as his lips curled. “What’s that, Lovegood?� he drawled, malice in his marble pale face. “Spend the summer hunting Crumply snorkaxes again? Or has your father finally got himself chucked into the loony bin? Maybe he’ll find one in there.�

To his surprise and the surprise of everyone watching, it wasn’t Luna Lovegood who responded. The Ravenclaw girl beside her jumped to her feet in a single move, her translucent green eyes blazing. “You shut your face, Malfoy!� the sixth year girl snarled.

Malfoy blinked at her a moment. He knew her, of course, had known her for five years, but he couldn’t remember her ever speaking, least of all to him. She was decidedly odd in appearance. Her long, dark red hair fell straight to her waist in stark contrast to skin so pale he looked positively tan in comparison. It wasn’t the unnatural whiteness of her skin or even the strange glow it seemed to emanate that was most unusual, however. It was her hands, which were slender and moved with eerie grace. Her fingers were long, nearly twice as long as normal fingers and inhumanly flexible as if there were no bones in them at all. He thought he remembered seeing her flick the strange abominations as one would a wand and wondered if she even needed a wand to perform magic.

He recovered his wits quickly, especially since everyone within earshot was suddenly listening raptly. “Oh, so the white demon does speak,� he drawled in a cold voice, and a few people gasped at the words. “I was under the impression you were merely—an illusion.�

“Keep talking, Malfoy, and I’ll show you what an illusion is capable of,� she replied in a low, dangerous voice.

He chuckled. “Is that so? When did you grow a backbone, Armstrong? I didn’t realize iluzii even could.�

There were more shocked gasps at this statement as if he’d said something incredibly obscene. Aine Armstrong didn’t gasp, but the fire burned more hotly in her jade eyes. “More backbone than any Slytherin could ever have,� she said, drawing out the word as if it were the foulest she could sling at him.

His lips turned up in a snarl, and he pulled out his wand, aiming it at her face. She didn’t even flinch, this unusually brave and foolhardy Ravenclaw, but stared at him coldly. “Keep talking, half-breed, and I’ll show you what a Slytherin is capable of,� he told her, mimicking her dangerous tone.

They were advancing on each other, and Crabbe and Goyle stayed where they were as if afraid the odd-looking girl could do funny, dangerous magic if they got too close. Armstrong and Malfoy were inches apart, glaring into each other’s eyes with unbridled loathing. “Try it, Malfoy, if you think you’re brave,� she growled, and he didn’t see arrogance in her eyes; he saw honesty. Could she do funny, dangerous magic?

“I’m not afraid of you, white demon. You’re nothing but a bedtime story to me,� he hissed.

“And you’re nothing but talk, Malfoy.� That wasn’t true, and she knew it, but she didn’t back down, didn’t look away and didn’t pull her wand to defend herself.

He narrowed his eyes at her, feeling oddly light-headed, oddly off-centre. Why wasn’t she pulling out her wand? Could she, like the creatures of bedtime lore, hypnotise men with their eyes, cloud their minds and confuse their thoughts? He didn’t feel hypnotised, but the proximity of her incandescent face and unyielding eyes was unnerving. She was psyching him out, he realised. “I know magic you couldn’t even dream of,� he said quietly, and she suspected not untruthfully as she peered into silvery eyes that flashed with barely controlled anger.

“Naturally.� Her voice was smooth, almost sweet. “Probably the same magic that got your father chucked in prison.�

That was the final straw. Malfoy felt the icy composure snap as she dealt the low blow, causing the spectators to gasp in as much shock as they had at his remarks. She almost winced herself at the unnecessarily nasty retort, but she didn’t back down—and she still didn’t produce her wand as his flew up, into her face. “Mr Malfoy! Miss Armstrong! That is quite enough!�

The entire crowd turned to see Professor McGonagall speeding up the path, holding down the tartan sun cap on her head. Malfoy didn’t move to finish the curse, but he didn’t move away from Aine, either, who continued to hold his eyes defiantly. It wasn’t until Luna and Ron pulled her backwards by the shoulders away from him and Crabbe and Goyle stepped up to flank his sides again that the tense face off was broken.

“What in the name of Merlin is going on here?� Prof. McGonagall demanded. “Miss Armstrong?�

Aine looked at her then raised a dark red eyebrow, replying easily, “Nothing, Professor. Malfoy and I were merely having a discussion.�

“A discussion.�

Malfoy was looking at Aine, nonplussed, sure she would have reported the attempted attack that would have landed her opponent detention or lost him house points. “That’s right,� Aine continued. “It just got a little heated.�

McGonagall’s lips were tight, but she didn’t demand any further explanation. “I see. Do try to keep your discussions less heated in future.�

“Yes, Professor,� Aine murmured smoothly, and Malfoy echoed her sullenly.

When she spun away, striding back the way she came, Malfoy spun on the red-haired girl, his eyes stormy and his pale, sculpted face etched into a dangerous sneer. He wasn’t sure if he was angrier that she had broken his composure or that she’d saved him from detention. “This isn’t over, Armstrong. Not by a long shot.�

He didn’t wait for his bodyguards to follow him. He spun, storming away with fury in every line of his face.

It was the start of the whole thing. Perhaps if it hadn’t started their lives would never have been so entwined; perhaps they could have avoided the entire nightmare.

~~~

“Did you hear about Malfoy and that Armstrong girl?�

“I thought he was going to murder her right there in front of everyone…�

“I’ve never even heard her speak before…�

“I assumed she couldn’t speak—you know, considering…�

The Great Hall was buzzing about the ‘heated discussion’ between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw sixth years that evening. “It was brilliant!� Ron Weasley told Hermione Granger and Harry Potter at the Gryffindor table, his blue eyes shining with mirth. “I thought his head was just going to explode right there; he was so mad. She’s really brilliant.�

“You’ve already said that, Ron,� Hermione told him, rolling her eyes. “It’s all you’ve been talking about all day.�

“Yeah, but—you should have seen his face. And she just---“

“Yes, yes, she just stared him in the eye and never backed down,� Hermione finished for him. “Is anyone talking about anything else?�

“I always thought she was kind of quiet,� Ginny mused. “Luna said she mostly keeps to herself and never really talks to anyone, even in her house. I’m surprised she stood up to him like that.�

“It was really nice of her to stick up for Luna,� Harry remarked. “I don’t think many people do.�

“I think Luna might be her only friend,� Ginny added, her eyes drifting to the Ravenclaw table where Aine Armstrong was sitting between a number of her larger male housemates, who were guffawing about the look on Malfoy’s face when Aine had stood up to him. Ginny suspected they had surrounded her in case Crabbe or Goyle got the urge to retaliate for her slight on their fearless leader.

“Not anymore, looks like,� Harry put in. “I reckon she'll be pretty popular now.�

“It must be hard looking like that,� Hermione murmured, cocking her head at the girl across the hall. “She probably doesn’t like people asking a lot of questions.�

“What was that Malfoy was calling her?� Harry asked. “A white demon—what did he mean by that?�

“Well, she does kind of look like one,� Ginny said very quietly.

“Like what?�

“She looks like an iluzii!� Ron exclaimed, leaning over the table to talk in a stage whisper, lest anyone overhear the hated words.

“What is an iluzii?� Harry asked, frowning.

Hermione was not the one to answer this time, though she had opened her mouth to recite what would likely have been quoted directly from a textbook. “The iluzii are mythical creatures,� Ginny explained. “They look like humans except their skin is really white like Aine’s, and they have really long limbs and fingers. Some of the stories say it’s because they have no bones.�

Harry watched Aine across the hall. She wasn’t smiling, but her pale eyes twinkled, lighting up her striking face as she listened to the conversations around her. “She looks like she has no bones; the way she moves. I’ve noticed it before, but couldn’t describe it.� When he caught the others looking at him, eyebrows raised, he ducked his head, glancing away from the red-haired Ravenclaw.

“The iluzii shape shift and read minds. Sometimes they can even alter them or control them. And they are masters of illusion,� Hermione continued because Ginny was peering at Harry in interest. “But they aren’t real.�

“So you say,� Ron interrupted. “But what about all the babies?�

Harry’s attention snapped to Ron. “What babies?�

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Ron ignored her. “They say they aren’t real, but there were all these babies born with long fingers like Aine’s and white skin and white eyes.�

“Honestly, Ron, she isn’t an iluzii,� Hermione scolded. “She’s just a witch.�

“Yeah, a witch with hyper-digitised hands and really white skin,� Ron replied.

‘Don’t go starting rumours, Ron, and reminding people of old wives’ tales,� Ginny told her brother sternly. “It’s bad enough with Malfoy running around using the word.� She looked at Harry. “Wizards don’t like the iluzii. If they were real—well, wizards would treat them a lot like they do werewolves. Those babies had a really bad time of it—anyone who looked like one of them was persecuted. Some were even killed or chucked in prison.�

“But that’s silly,� Harry muttered. “She’s really pretty.�

Hermione and Ginny rolled their eyes, but Ron nodded. She may be distinctly odd, but she was striking. “I hope Malfoy doesn’t do anything terrible to her,� Hermione said.

“I hope he tries it so she’ll jinx him into next week. She’s really good at Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. Maybe she’ll turn him into a ferret like Impostor Moody did,� Ron put in, grinning at the memory.

“All I hope is no one gets hurt too badly,� Ginny said.

“Unless it’s Malfoy,� Harry added.

~~~

The war began on Monday in Charms. Though her popularity had, as Harry had predicted, increased exponentially since the now infamous run-in with Draco Malfoy, Aine sat quietly at a table by herself, watching Flitwick demonstrate a non-verbal shrinking charm on an angry, beady-eyed raven. She could feel eyes on the back of her head, knowing it was the Slytherins whispering viciously. Smoky eyes like tiny, raging storms followed her every move, narrowed in concentration and loathing. It occurred to her to be thankful looks could not, in fact, kill, but they could surely make her squirm. She had had occasion to notice Draco Malfoy, as it was truly hard not to notice him, but she had never found herself actually thinking about him.

Well, perhaps he had crossed her mind once or twice but mostly as a source of righteous indignation or moral outrage and almost never because he was actually quite good looking in a not terribly nice and not terribly unappealing sort of way. However, he had certainly never been a constant presence there before; an awareness of him now hovered in the back of her mind, even when she wasn’t actually thinking about him—or worrying what sort of retaliation a boy like Draco Malfoy, who was infamous not only for his even more infamous and thoroughly disgraced family but for his ability to torment anyone who attracted his ire with little or no remorse or consideration of possible consequence. She wasn’t afraid, not really; she was sure he had not been lying when he’d claimed to know magic she’d never dreamed of—all of it Dark, surely—but he hadn’t frightened her, even when his eyes had born into hers with such rage and hatred. In the long moment their eyes had been locked, it was as if she were peering into two swirling, furious tempests, barely contained and dying to be unleashed. In the long moment they had stared at each other she had, for the blink of an eye, almost wanted them to consume her.

Have I gone mental? She wanted no such thing. She had been angry, livid with his casual slights on her rumoured birth, but she had seen something there—something that had made staring at him impossible to avoid, something that made stepping away even more impossible. What had it been? What had she seen? No, not seen. It was what she hadn’t seen that had given her the confidence to goad him. It was the absence of malice. Anger, yes. Loathing, absolutely. But murder—no. Perhaps he wanted to shake her around a bit, even slap her, but she had gotten the distinct impression that Draco Malfoy, despite his and his family’s reputations, would never actually cross the line. She wondered if anyone else had realised it yet. She doubted it, and she doubted he wanted anyone to.

Aine yanked herself out of her ridiculous reverie. Draco Malfoy, I ask you. Thinking about him like this was surely exactly what he would want. He was probably not only hoping but counting on her being consumed by him, by invading her thoughts with wondering what he would do next, what he had planned for her. He was probably smirking like a proud peacock right now, and if she turned it would only confirm exactly what he suspected. She would not give him the satisfaction. Do your worst, Malfoy. But I’m not going to waste time worrying what it’s going to be.

She didn’t have much time to waste at all, really. A chorus of muttered Reducios chimed through the room despite Professor Flitwick’s instructions. Ravens cawed nervously then in tiny, squeaking voices as the charms shrank or revived them. She pointed her wand lazily at her raven who was eyeing her suspiciously with tiny, black eyes. “Red—“

“Reducio!� An odd sensation overcame her, as if she was growing larger and larger instantly, outgrowing her black robes. What had been wide and billowing was now shrinking, shortening to reveal bare legs and a short, pleated grey skirt. She jumped up, hearing sniggers and guffaws from the Slytherins and startled exclamations from the Ravenclaws. She chanced a glance behind her as the collar started to close around her throat, and her eyes met Malfoy’s. He was grinning, and his eyes glinted mischievously. She instantly understood—he had performed the shrinking charm on her robes.

She didn’t give him the satisfaction of shrieking, glaring or reacting in any way to his prank. She spun her wand on herself and muttered, “Finite.�

“Miss Armstrong, is there a problem?� Professor Flitwick squeaked, alarmed.

She caught Malfoy’s eye, and he raised his eyebrows, his eyes defiant and challenging. “No, Professor,� she said just as smoothly as when she’d addressed McGonagall. “Must have missed my raven and shrunk my robes instead.�

Malfoy looked furious that she had saved him from trouble a second time. What was she playing at? Normally he would have enjoyed getting away with such a trick, but he certainly didn’t want it to be because she had covered for him. The nerve of that Ravenclaw. Whispers broke out all over the classroom; those who hadn’t seen Malfoy perform the spell could probably have guessed its source, but no one spoke up to contradict her. If she didn’t know what she was doing, she was doing a bang up job of hiding it.

“Do try to be more cautious in the future, Aine,� Flitwick said gently, reversing the damage, and she sat back down, relieved that she could move and breathe freely.

“I will certainly try,� she replied, smiling.

“What was that about?� Terry Boot demanded, catching her arm as the class packed up their bags to head for lunch. “I saw Malfoy hit you with that spell. Why didn’t you turn him in?�

Aine smiled at him, casually sliding books into her oversized bag. “I prefer to deal with Malfoy my way,� she told him easily. “Detention is too good for him.�

A slow grin spread over Terry’s face. “What, exactly, do you have in mind, Aine?�

She looked at him solemnly, swinging her bag onto her shoulder and striding towards the door. “Gryffindors might fight with their hands; Slytherins might fight with their mouths, but Ravenclaws—we fight with our minds.�

Aine could feel Malfoy’s eyes from across the Great Hall, but she didn’t glance up to meet them. She talked animatedly to her housemates, who had never seen her so cheerful or so sociable before. As their housemate they accepted her and defended her despite her strange appearance, but now they were starting to genuinely like her, surprised at the change she had undergone in the short time since she’d blossomed from the quiet, weird-looking Ravenclaw girl to Draco Malfoy’s arch enemy. She smiled widely, sincerely and not without a hint of mischief when before she had rebuffed attempts to talk to her, to get to know the girl with whom they had been rooming for five years.


Malfoy was scowling blackly. How dare this arrogant Ravenclaw ignore him? How dare she be so carefree and flippant when he was trying his damnedest to make her life a living hell? Every attempt to torment her had been shrugged off as a careless mistake. Every spilled potion or errant charm and every harsh word had been ignored or laughed off. He had enchanted her chair to slide out from under her in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but she had merely giggled from the floor at how clumsy she had been. He was unable to elicit a rise of any kind out of the girl nor any kind of anger or accusation. She would meet his flashing, angry eyes and smile. Smile! Her eyes danced merrily at every insult. Not to mention the rest of her house seemed to be following suit. They refused to acknowledge his mischief making, laughing with their housemate as if they believed she had caused her own mishaps. He couldn’t get a single reaction from anyone, and his anger was white hot.


“I am going to get that girl,� Draco muttered irritably. “I will find a way. She can’t ignore everything.�


“Want us to rough her up a bit, Draco?� Pansy asked, her blue eyes glinting. “Maybe she has a run-in in a dark corridor one night?�


“No,� Draco snarled. “Stay away from her. She’s mine. I will deal with her. No one touches her but me.�


The look in his eyes must have been murderous, for Pansy shrunk back, holding up her hands. “Ok, Draco. We’ll leave her alone.�


His lips tightened, and he glanced over at the Ravenclaw table again. Jason Samuels was grinning at Aine, sneaking bites of chocolate cake off her plate. She laughed at something he said, and Draco felt a sharp tinge of dislike. Acting like nothing is going on, as if Draco Malfoy didn’t exist, as if she couldn’t feel his eyes on her, boring holes into her, flirting with Quidditch players and making friends. No one ignored Draco Malfoy! No one suddenly benefited from his ire by becoming the most popular girl in her house. He had to find something else—something that would really get to her. He would find it if it was the last thing he did.

***

“Oh, Aine, if looks could kill you would be splattered across the wall,� Cho Chang said nervously, though she smiled. “Malfoy has been staring over here for ten minutes, and he looks about ready to explode.�

Aine met Terry’s eyes, and they grinned. “Fighting with the mind,� Terry said.


“What?� Cho asked, raising her eyebrows.


“Malfoy has done everything he can to make Aine’s life miserable, and she is ignoring him. I think it’s making him madder than any prank she could possibly pull,� Terry explained.


“I don’t know that I would want Draco Malfoy that angry with me,� Cho murmured, considering. “His father’s a Death Eater—what if he tries something dreadful?�


“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. He isn’t going to use dark magic on me just because of a little school feud,� Aine said, chuckling. “It’ll all blow over soon enough. He’ll get tired of picking on me after a while.�


“I don’t know, Aine,� Luna said, staring dreamily toward the Slytherins. “Slytherins are very tenacious.�


Aine waved her hand dismissively. “He hasn’t done anything to hurt me. It’s just a silly game. Besides, it’s fun.�


Cho frowned. “Still—don’t go down any dark corridors alone; you never know who might be waiting for you.�


Aine winked. “I am not afraid of Draco Malfoy and his pack of Slytherins. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, as well.�


Terry grinned. “Come on, then. You’ll have plenty of time to use them—time for Transfiguration with our favourite house.�

***

It was easier to ignore Malfoy’s furious stare from across the Great Hall while surrounded by her housemates. In class, however, he sat only two rows behind her, and she could feel his eyes like tiny pinpricks on her skin. The class was practicing non-verbal Switching spells, as they had every day since the beginning of term, and there was the usual shameless cheating, particularly from the Slytherins, and deep sighs of frustration, particularly from the Ravenclaws. Aine was finding it very difficult to concentrate on the daisy she was meant to transfigure into a butterfly with his eyes on her like that, and it needled her pride. Yes, he was, in fact, getting to her whether she let him see it or not.


She flicked her wand moodily, refusing to allow him to see her faltering focus. He scowled, his lips forming a tight line. Her long, red hair rippled as she pointed her wand at the daisy, and he was most gratified to see the flower flip over ineffectually. Having trouble concentrating, are you, half-breed? he thought maliciously. Feel me, do you?


As if in response, she flicked her wand again, and this time the daisy rose into the air, fluttering around her head. The flower had morphed into a large butterfly, and the girls cooed, impressed by the stark, elegant beauty of the white wings. Malfoy’s eyes narrowed in irritation, and he glanced down at the lifeless rose before him. She laughed delightedly as her creation danced merrily around the room, and Professor McGonagall smiled. “Well done, Miss Armstrong,� she remarked. “Ten points to Ravenclaw for being the first to effectively complete the task today.�


Malfoy sneered. The girl was intolerable. He flicked his own wand toward the butterfly, hardly thinking about what he was doing. It burst into flames. The class cried out in surprise, and it dropped into front of Aine, who shot a jet of water from her wand to extinguish the smoking ball. He smirked when he saw her lips turn down in a pout, but she didn’t turn to him to retaliate.


“Mr. Malfoy!� Prof. McGonagall snarled. “What is the meaning of this?�


Even her stern, rigid gaze didn’t daunt him such was his satisfaction over the white demon’s dismay. Her brow was furrowed, and she was looking down at the ash on her workstation. The Ravenclaws around her were muttering in a crescendo of outrage at the destruction of their housemate’s lovely creation. She looked up, into McGonagall’s eyes. “Oh, I must have made a mistake, Professor,� Aine said lamely. “I must have been thinking about fire when I transfigured it.�


Beside her, Su Li nudged her, angry that she would let Malfoy get away, yet again, with such a nasty trick. “Don’t be ridiculous,� Prof. McGonagall scoffed, her brow furrowed dangerously. “I saw Mr. Malfoy do it. I don’t know what your little game is, Miss Armstrong, but I have had quite enough of this feud. Detention, Mr. Malfoy. And detention for you, Miss Armstrong, for trying to cover for him.�


The Ravenclaws groaned with indignation, but Malfoy smirked. For once, the old hag had done something useful.


***

White hot rage seethed just under the surface of Aine’s pleasant, smiling exterior. Detention. With Malfoy, of all people. The plan had gone completely wrong. It was much easier to ignore the beastly wanker when he wasn’t looking so smug and so dangerous at his table, clearly relishing the anticipation of their hours together tonight. She suspected he was also enjoying her apprehension, imagined or otherwise, as she pondered what exactly he might have planned.


“I can’t believe he killed your butterfly,� Su muttered, glaring across the Hall at Malfoy and his smirking Slytherins. The admiration with which they regarded him had fallen off a bit in the wake of the feud with the Ravenclaw, perhaps due to his ineffectual attempts to torment her and her fellow Ravenclaws. Tonight, however, he seemed to be the centre of attention, his silver eyes glittering mischievously as he muttered quietly to his housemates. They were eyeing him in appreciation, fawning over his every word.


Aine scoffed. “It wasn’t even alive. If he thought that would frighten me he’s got a lot to learn,� she growled, glaring across the table at him, glancing quickly away before he caught her.


“What will you do in detention?� Michael Corner asked, raising his eyebrows at her.


“Avoid him, hopefully.�


“Good luck with that,� Terry told her grimly. “Malfoy looks like he was just handed the House Cup, not detention. He’s planning something. Be careful.�


A cold frisson of apprehension trickled down her back, but she stamped it out pointedly. “It’s Malfoy who should be careful if he tries anything,� she said coldly.



***


Aine sighed inwardly as she approached the door to McGonagall’s office. Malfoy already stood outside, lounging casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He gave her a wolfish grin, and her body went cold. “Hello, Armstrong,� he greeted, his silvery eyes glinting dangerously.


“Malfoy,� she replied with a Slytherin worthy sneer. He was staring at her with cold intensity, but she refused to quail under his gaze. She drew herself up to her full height, meeting his eyes defiantly. I’m not afraid of you, Malfoy, no matter how dangerous you look.


Professor McGonagall swept out of her office, looking almost startled to see them standing there, their gazes locked. “Oh. Yes. Mr. Malfoy, Miss Armstrong. I am afraid I have an important matter to attend to. You will report to Mr. Filch’s office to complete your detention, if you please.�


“But—“ Aine started, her pulse leaping nervously. If she was to spend the next couple hours with the scheming Draco Malfoy, especially when he was looking at her like a wolf stalking his prey, she would prefer McGonagall to be there, not the Squib groundskeeper who would be utterly ineffectual against his tricks.


McGonagall ignored her, bustling past them. “Mr. Filch’s office,� she repeated over her shoulder, her heels clicking on the stone floors as she strode away, leaving Aine alone with the smirking, blonde Slytherin.


Malfoy looked at her. “So, Miss Armstrong, shall I escort you to Mr. Filch’s office? We wouldn’t want anything to…happen to you along the way, would we, half-breed?�


His grey eyes were steely, glinting in amusement and what could have been anticipation. The cold snake of fear slithered along her spine again, and she spun away from his eyes, hurrying away from him.


Malfoy chuckled, cocking his head to watch her retreating figure for a moment before hurrying to catch up with her. “What’s the matter, Armstrong?� he drawled in a voice as smooth as silk. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?�


Anger coursed through her veins, but she didn’t pause and didn’t turn to look at him. “You don’t frighten me, Malfoy,� she spat.


“No?� He grinned, falling into step beside her.


They strode in silence for several moments, and she could feel her nerves singing, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. He brushed against her every few steps, heightening the tension between them, and he chuckled at her discomfort. Her lips pursed, but she didn’t deign to speak to him.


Malfoy chuckled again, his arm sliding casually along hers. “Wondering whether to keep playing your game or run the other way?� he asked smoothly, and she narrowed her eyes, annoyed. He was easy to handle when students and teachers surrounded them, watching their every move. Alone, however, his presence was frank and aggressive and utterly daunting. She wondered for a moment if he could read her mind, or if she was merely allowing her emotions to play across her face.


“Don’t flatter yourself, Malfoy,� she said coldly.


“Ah, so you find my company pleasant, then,� he suggested.


“Hardly,� she muttered, but he was ignoring her.


“Can’t say the same for me, though. I prefer not to associate with filthy half-breeds.� He sped up to pass her, hurrying ahead of her toward Filch’s office.


She blinked at his back, thinking Draco Malfoy had a special ability to cut straight to the bone, but she’d be damned if she’d let him see it. “What’s that, Malfoy? I must have missed it,� she said pleasantly. “Oh, well.� She turned as he spun on his heel, ducking into a corridor away from him.


Malfoy followed her, but she had disappeared around a corner. “Bollocks,� he muttered.


***


She was standing in Filch’s office, scowling blackly when he finally caught up to her. “What’s this,� Filch growled, annoyed, “Minerva’s delinquent drop off? What does she think—I have nothing better to do than baby-sit her misbehavers?� He gave them a horrible scowl. “Off with you, then. You can help the firsties polish the trophy room.� He motioned them with a jerk of his head, and they followed him. “By hands. No wands.�


Malfoy smirked at Aine, but addressed Filch. “Sir,� he began in his velvety drawl, and she rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t you much rather be off catching students out of bounds?�


Filch scowled. “Of course; anything is better playing nursemaid to you runts.�


“Well, sir, perhaps you can. Miss Armstrong and I can supervise the firsties for you,� he continued.


Filch touched his chin, raising an eyebrow in consideration. “Yeah,� he said slowly. “Yeah, better you than me; I’m not even being punished.� He raised a suspicious finger to Malfoy’s face. “No funny business, boy.�


Malfoy held up his hands, a smile spreading across his narrow, sculpted features. “Of course not, sir.�


Filch nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Come on, Mrs. Norris,� he ordered his ever present feline companion as he swept down the hall.


Malfoy turned his smirk on Aine. “Smug Slytherin,� she muttered, narrowing her eyes to hide that he’d impressed her.


“Jealous Ravenclaw,� he said, raising a pale eyebrow.


She turned away, scowling, watching him slink over to the four first years who were already inside the trophy room polishing feverishly. They looked up at him with wide eyes, and she suspected his infamous reputation had preceded him. They grumbled as he issued orders but didn’t talk back. Aine paced behind them, scowling. She glanced at the door, weighing the benefits of bolting for Ravenclaw Tower, but she refused to allow him to win this battle of wits.


“What’s the matter, Armstrong?� Malfoy asked, sidling up to her. “Hoping Filch would stay to protect you from me?�


“Is that conceit or delusion, Malfoy?� Aine said mildly. “I know I have my suspicions�


There was a cackling from above, and they looked up to see Peeves, the little black poltergeist float into the room. “Oh, the Slytherin and Ravenclaws is having a little love spat? I been hearing all about you two.�


“Get out of here, Peeves,� Aine growled, her teeth clenched.


Peeves cackled, and Malfoy sneered at him. “You is a white demon, you is.�


“Shut your face, Peeves,� Aine replied.


Malfoy chuckled, amused that the poltergeist could get to her even if he couldn’t. Peeves cackled and swooped down over his head. He cursed, ducking. “The Malfoy boy likes his white demon, don’t he?�


Malfoy’s eyes ignited, and his lip curled in fury. “Get out of here, Peeves!� he shouted, flicking his wand to curse the cackling poltergeist, but he evaded the jet of red sparks. He spun in the air, diving toward the first years, and knocked a small trophy onto a Gryffindor’s head. The dark-haired girl squeaked in pain, covering her head, and the first years ran for cover, afraid the poltergeist would continue the assault.


Aine glared at him, throwing her hands out in front of her. Peeves shrieked angrily, compelled out of the trophy room by the power of her spell. “I is telling the Headmaster on you, I is!� he screeched. “You is using white demon magic!�


She threw her arm out, slamming the door on his retreating figure and turned a glare on Malfoy. “You could have helped,� she growled, hurrying over to examine the Gryffindor first year.


Malfoy lounged against the wall, smirking. “And why would I do that? It’s just a Gryffindor with a bit of a bump.�


Aine rolled her eyes, sneering, and spun away from him, ordering the first years to continue their polishing. Malfoy raised an eyebrow, watching her move around the room supervising the younger students. She felt his eyes following her, but she ignored him, resuming her pacing and trying to calm the nervousness his scrutiny was causing.


He advanced upon her, and she felt him beside her before she glanced up at him. “What’s the matter, Armstrong? Angry the poltergeist called you a white demon? You don’t seem to mind when I do it—does that mean you’re starting to like me?� When she tilted her chin, turning away without responding, he reached out, catching her shoulder to spin her to face him.


She shrugged off his hand as if it had burned her, glaring at it in distaste. “Even with Peeves in the room, Malfoy, I still like you least.�


He chuckled, following her when she moved away. “Come on, Armstrong. You don’t like our game anymore?�


“We don’t have a game, Malfoy,� she said with complete indifference.


He narrowed his eyes. Not this time. She is not going to evade me this time. If she wouldn’t rise to his taunts and jinxes, he would find another way to get under her skin. If I can’t beat you at your game, let’s see if you can beat me at mine. He moved closer to her, circling her like a lion stalking its prey. She stood rigid, her eyes following his movements. He slid up to her in one fluid motion, his face inches from hers. “And here I thought we meant something to each other,� he drawled in a low, silky voice.


His eyes bore into hers, and she didn’t look or move away. She refused to let him get the better of her despite the fact that she could almost feel his breath on her lips and that her heart was suddenly inexplicably hammering in her chest. “Did you, Malfoy?� she replied, glaring back into his eyes.


He reached for her, and she gave in, jerking away from him. His lips curled in a satisfied smile. Behind them, the first years were polishing feverishly, trying not to notice the interaction between the older students. “And here I thought you were enjoying our little dance as much as I am,� he nearly purred, advancing on her again.


She backed away and spun, shooting a quick cleaning spell at the trophies. “Detention dismissed,� she said curtly, turning toward the door.


Malfoy was on her heels. “I seem to remember I am the prefect here. I could take points from you—or give you another detention.�


She spun, surprising him, and he nearly stumbled backward. “Try it, Malfoy,� she snarled. “Anything is better than being here with you.�


He chased her into the corridor, his anger rising again. He caught her arm, glaring into her blazing eyes. When she tried to pull away again, he shoved her against the cold, stone wall, trapping her wrists on either side of her head.


“Let me go, Malfoy!� she ordered.


She struggled to break free from his hold, but he pressed his body into hers, trapping her. “What do I have to do to get to you?� he growled.


She suddenly stopped moving, her body going completely still, though her breath was short. Malfoy smirked, enjoying her discomfort. “Sorry, Malfoy, but you just aren’t that important to me,� she told him in a low, cold voice.


“Not that important?� he snarled. “You will bloody well pay attention to me, Armstrong.�


She opened her mouth to respond and was cut off when his mouth crashed down upon hers. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he trapped both her wrists in one hand between them, knotting his other into her long, red hair. It wasn’t a sweet kiss; it wasn’t a gentle kiss. His lips moved over hers, and he tugged on her hair, dropping her head back to dip his tongue deeper into her mouth. It was an angry, bruising kiss, and she tried to raise her knee, but he pressed his thighs into hers, pinning her easily. He let out a low growl and then an outraged noise. He rebounded from the wall, touching his lip.


“You bit me,� he muttered, shocked.


“You kissed me!� she shrieked. “What the hell did you do that for?!�


He nearly stumbled when she pushed him, but he managed to catch her wrist again, smirking. “Try to not think about me now, Armstrong.�


She let out an outraged noise and ripped her arm out of his grasp, racing toward Ravenclaw tower.


She could hear his chuckle following her through the corridor.


***


The Ravenclaws looked up, hearing Aine outside the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, shrieking a response to the guardian. When she burst into the common room, she raised her hands to her face and let out an angry screech. They looked up at her, startled. “What happened, Aine?� Padma Patil demanded, raising her eyebrows.


“That—bloody—bastardy—buggerdy---sodding—shagging—wanker Malfoy!� she shouted.


Terry Boot hurried over to her. “What did he do, Aine?� he demanded, scowling.


“He kissed me!�


The Ravenclaws blinked at her. “He what?� Su Li said.


“He bloody kissed me!�


“What did you do?� Michael Corner demanded.


“Nothing! Well, I bit him, but I should have cursed him into oblivion, and all I did was run away!�


“Well—“ Padma began, a smile curling her lips. “How was it?�


Aine ignited. “It was the worst bloody kiss ever!� she cried.


“I always wondered what it would be like to kiss Draco Malfoy,� Lisa Turpin muttered.


“Argh!� Aine screamed. “Like a damned snaky Slytherin, that’s what!�


Terry and Jason Samuels squared their shoulders. “Want us to rough him up?� Terry asked.


“No! No, I will take care of that bloody, shagging, sodding Slytherin!�


Luna Lovegood smiled dreamily from an overstuffed blue armchair. “Well, it looks like Malfoy’s gotten to you now, hasn’t he?�


“You shut your face, Luna!� she snarled. “No more playing sweet and ignoring him. Malfoy is dead! Dead!� She spun, storming toward the girls dormitories and slamming the door behind her.


The others looked at each other and chuckled. “Well,� Michael put in. “One thing I can say for Malfoy—he knows how to get a rise out of anyone. And he’s got some bollocks.�

When Aine strode into the Great Hall she felt eyes on her immediately. She resisted giving into the sensation and looking up for approximately a minute until she had slid into the Ravenclaw table between Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein. When she glanced towards the Slytherin table she met Draco Malfoy’s mercurial gaze. For a moment, he peered at her with an inscrutable expression and she found herself peering back, unnerved by the storm in his eyes. And then a slow smirk slid over his pale features. Terry and Anthony sat up straighter, glancing back and forth between their housemate and her tormenter, but Aine rolled her eyes at the Slytherin and tossed her hair, turning her attention to the boys on either side of her.


Malfoy’s smirk turned into a scowl at her dismissal, and he glared into his glass of pumpkin juice before hitching the signature superior expression back onto his face.


“Something the matter, Malfoy?� Blaise Zabini asked, amused by the interaction he’d witnessed between his housemate and the Ravenclaw girl. “Still playing your little game with the half breed?�


Malfoy frowned at him, but he let the smirk pass over his face again. “Not for much longer,� he replied smugly. “She doesn’t know who she’s playing with.�


“Oh?� Zabini said, his full mouth turning up at the corners. “She seems to be holding up quite well.�


Malfoy scowled at him, but he didn’t get a chance to respond. As he tilted his pumpkin juice towards his mouth, he let out a startled noise, jerking the goblet away from him and sloshing the contents across the front of his robes. Pansy Parkinson looked at him incredulously.


“What is wrong with you, Draco?� she demanded, appalled.


He resisted the urge to gasp and instead glared across the table at the Ravenclaws. Aine Armstrong looked innocent, but the small, shrivelled hand that had reached out of his glass toward his nose had surely been her doing. The illusion had faded as quickly as it had appeared, around only long enough for his dignity to have been thoroughly damaged; the other Slytherins were looking at him as if he’d gone insane.


“Nothing,� he muttered, scourgifying his robes quickly whilst glaring at the rest of his table as if to dare them to say anything.


They all looked away, returning to their breakfasts as if nothing had happened, but they sneaked surreptitious glances at him as if waiting for him to make another disgraceful blunder. At the Ravenclaw table Aine Armstrong grinned into her own glass of pumpkin juice. If Malfoy thought he’d beaten her the night before, he was sorely mistaken. You don’t know who you’re playing with, Malfoy.

***

Draco Malfoy peered to the left and right, creeping out of the Arithmancy classroom cautiously. He breathed a sigh of relief. No beast or spectre awaited him outside in the corridor as they had all week. There was no sign of the red-haired Ravenclaw, either, but then there never was. He saw Aine in class and at mealtimes, though any time he attempted to corner her, hastening after her at the end of classes or when she’d left the Great Hall, she seemed to vanish into thin air.


She was proving to be a worthier adversary than he’d ever expected, and if he didn’t loathe her so completely, he might have been impressed. Illusions assaulted him any time he left the Slytherin common room. Tiny skeletons scuttled across his Potions book as he studied in the library; disembodied fingers reached for him out of his potatoes at dinner; ghouls haunted him in the corridors, and snakes the size of Hagrid pursued him to the Herbology greenhouses. He had taken to slinking in and out of the corridors alone, afraid one of his housemates would witness his humiliations; he didn’t think he’d screamed so much since he was six years old and he’d first discovered the Dark artefacts in his father’s locked cabinet.


The half breed witch was clever. She never attacked in the same place at the same time, and Draco had been living his days constantly on guard, relaxing only when he was safely ensconced in one of the dark green couches in the Slytherin common room. She was everywhere, but he could never seem to catch her in the act. In classes his attacks had been effectively deflected by her ubiquitous bodyguards, Boot, Corner and Goldstein. She ignored him completely and looked past him as if he wasn’t there, as if he was completely invisible. He was strung out, his nerves were frayed, and he felt as if he hadn’t slept properly in days. He spent nights lying awake in bed, thinking of her, hating her nearly as much as the Gryffindor Trio and plotting how to repay her torments.


Draco had gotten the upper hand when he’d kissed her outside the trophy room, but he’d been unable to get close enough to even speak to her let alone touch her again. If he could get her alone, away from her hulking Ravenclaw accessories, he could take back control of the situation. He had to find a way to turn this around, to get back on top of the game.


He paused outside of the Great Hall, inspiration striking him. She may be a clever Ravenclaw, but he was a cunning Slytherin. He could play her mind games as well as she. With a grin he shoved open the doors, striding lazily towards the Slytherin table. As he passed Aine at the Ravenclaw table he caught her eyes. She started to look away until a slow smile spread over his face. It wasn’t a smirk; it wasn’t a wolfish show of teeth. It was a wide, genuine smile complete with twinkling silver eyes and a charming wink. He saw her jaw drop in shock and looked away, casually veering for his table.


When he glanced across the Slytherin table from under his lashes she looked flustered, scowling deeply and peering at him as if she wasn’t sure who he was. He grinned into his goblet of juice. Yes, he had certainly gotten the upper hand this round.


There were no illusions at dinner that night. In fact, it seemed as if Aine Armstrong had given up her campaign altogether. Thus began Phase Three of the war.

***

The first Hogsmeade weekend of year was welcomed with nearly as much excitement as the announcement of a grounds party on Halloween night for fourth years and above. The Ravenclaw common room was bustling with girls chattering for hours about what they would wear. The boys grumbled about the girls’ enthusiasm and complained over the complication of having to persuade one of them to be their date—so as not to look as if they were incapable of doing so, of course.


Aine Armstrong slumped into a chair by the fireplace, scowling into the meagre flame. Luna Lovegood sat beside her, her large, translucent blue eyes distant and dreamy. She smiled wistfully. “Are you looking forward to seeing Malfoy today?� she asked in a far away sort of voice, glancing around at her housemates as they gathered their coats and gloves for their trip into town.


Aine’s eyes snapped to her incredulously. “What? Looking forward to seeing him? Luna, you really have gone ‘round the bend. I look forward to the day I never have to see him again.�


Luna seemed to ignore this response. “He’s been so nice lately, hasn’t he? He even held the door for us last night at dinner, and he didn’t even try to trip me like he usually does.�


Aine was looking more and more amazed at Luna’s every word. “Malfoy is a horrible, arrogant, nasty, bad tempered, foul-mouthed git. Don’t let him fool you; this is another of his games.�


“Do you think so?� Luna asked, leaning back in her seat comfortably. “I thought he was quite sincere when he said your hair looked nice on Wednesday.�


“Yes, well, I imagine growing up the son of a Death Eater who fooled the Ministry into believing he was innocent for fifteen years has taught him to lie quite effectively,� Aine sniped. “He’s just trying to get to me.�


“It’s working, isn’t it?� When Aine looked at the other girl she saw her eyes weren’t vague and wistful anymore; they were sharp and direct.


Aine sighed. “As much as I hate to admit it, yes; it’s working. I don’t know what he’s planning, but whatever it is I am going to be ready for it.�


“Maybe he just got tired of your feud and decided to be a gentleman,� Luna suggested.


“Malfoy? A gentleman? Hardly. He’s got something in mind. I just wish I could figure out what he’s playing at.�


Luna shrugged. “Well, maybe he’s just starting to like you; he did kiss you after all.�


The older girl let out a disgusted noise. “Don’t remind me, and that was not the kind of kiss you give someone you like. It was dreadful.� She huffed and pushed herself out of the armchair. “Come on; everyone’s going down to breakfast. We’d better go, too, or we’ll be late for Hogsmeade.�


She kept her back to the Slytherin table all through the loud, boisterous meal, but she felt as if Malfoy’s eyes could bore right into her. She wondered if he would ever tire of their war; she herself thought she was at her wit’s very end. He was in her head constantly; she thought of him as she lay in bed, replaying whatever uncharacteristic and uncomfortably nice words he’d spoken that day. She thought of him as she entered the Great Hall for breakfast, tried to ignore his heavy stare, his capricious smiles and quicksilver gaze, and she worried before their shared classes what antics he might get up to. So far she had endured him holding doors for her and her friends, remarking on her excellent wand work in Transfiguration and complimenting various aspects of her appearance. He was always pleasant, always smiling and always chivalrous.


It was more disturbing than anything she might have expected him to do, and she suspected it was exactly why he was doing it. Aine tried to ignore him, but he was constantly there, relentlessly watching her, ready with a wink or a grin any time she glanced his way. If she didn’t despise him so much she might have admitted it was dead cunning; she was more off guard than when he’d been randomly hexing her in class and in the corridors. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could last before she broke down and screamed like a wild woman at him or launched herself at him with flying fists and claws.


When the other Ravenclaw girls stood, arguing over where to visit first to find the perfect outfit for the Halloween party, she felt a powerful wave of relief. Luna had been eyeing her from across the table the entire meal, watching Malfoy over her shoulder, and Aine had the familiar feeling that the strange blonde girl was not nearly as daft as she would have people think. Normally she enjoyed Luna’s moments of sharp lucidity, but today it was quite aggravating. “Come on, Luna,� Aine grumbled, allowing the other girls to sweep them up and out of the Great Hall.


Hogsmeade was crowded and noisy the weekend before Halloween, and Aine smiled, happy to be caught up in the hustle and bustle of the witches and wizards enjoying the last of the crisp autumn weather. Jack O’Lanterns hovered in the air over every doorway, and crunchy leaves formed a thick blanket over the streets. She loved Hogsmeade in autumn, especially at Halloween, and she was swept up with the other girls, enthusiastically tearing through clothing racks at Glad Rags and listening to Padma and Cho gossip over who was taking whom to the party.


“I’m going with Michael, of course,� Cho announced, grinning. “He’s even promised to dance with me.�


Padma shook her head, chuckling. “Boys. Parvati told me Dean Thomas asked her to be his date as long as he didn’t have to dance or wear anything embarrassing. She’s going with Alex Kincaid, that Gryffindor seventh year with the nice smile.�


“Who do you want to go with, Aine?� Cho asked slyly, and the younger girl rolled her eyes.


“I think I’ll be happy to go alone,� Aine replied, peering at a set of long, shimmery emerald green robes. “I doubt anyone would ask me, anyway.�


“Oh, I wouldn’t bet on that,� Padma replied, her eyes sliding to Cho’s just as slyly.


Aine narrowed her eyes at them. “What are you on about?� she demanded.


Luna appeared beside them, a pair of silky, ivory robes over her arm. They would have been quite uncharacteristically beautiful if she hadn’t had a strange, multi-coloured shawl that was blinking like Christmas lights in the other hand. “Well, I think they mean that Terry fancies you,� she murmured absently as she passed, eyeing the display of Halloween masks on the back wall.


“What?!� Aine exclaimed, glancing at the other girls for confirmation. They were nodding, grinning hugely. “What makes you think that?�


“Isn’t it obvious? He’s always hanging around you, protecting you from Malfoy, isn’t he?� Padma said.


“He told Michael he thinks you’re really good-looking,� Cho added.


Aine waved her hand dismissively, flustered by the revelation. “I’m sure it’s nothing,� she muttered, burying her face in a rack of cloaks.


“Nothing. Right.� Padma rolled her eyes, smirking at Cho. “We’ll see.�


“Well, who are you going with, Padma?� Su Li asked, edging closer to the small group to join the gossip.


“Eddie Carmichael,� Padma replied, grinning. She rolled her eyes. “I’ve only been waiting for him to ask me out since fourth year. Figures he’d wait until his last year, the prat.�


The girls continued chattering as they made their purchases, exclaiming over each other’s picks and piping in suggestions. Padma begged Luna to leave the Christmas-light shawl behind, but the girl refused. She did, however, agree to purchase a golden mask shaped like a butterfly that covered the top half of her face and made her corn silk hair shimmer with honey-toned highlights.


“Oh, Luna, it’s beautiful,� Aine remarked, privately hoping the other girls would be able to tear Luna away from the hideous shawl when the time came to dress for the party.


Luna beamed, but she cocked her head at Aine interestedly. “You’ve chosen Slytherin colours,� she remarked.


“What?� the red-haired girl demanded, looking again at the green robes and metallic silver mask she’d selected. “Oh, bollocks, I have.� She immediately dropped the items as if she’d been burned, feeling foolish the moment she did. The others girls laughed at her, and she blushed, bending down to scoop them up. “Well, I can’t very well wear them, can I?�


“But they were so pretty,� Mandy Brocklehurst lamented.


Aine held them up, considering. “I will not be caught dead in Slytherin colours,� she growled. “But they have the same robes in red.� She darted away quickly, ignoring her housemates’ teasing and laughter. When she peered at the deep crimson red robes, she decided they were infinitely better than any awful Slytherin green, and in fact she had no desire to associate herself with anything Slytherin-related and changed the silver mask for an identical one in black.


“Much better,� Padma told her, pressing her lips together to suppress a chuckle. “Can you imagine what Malfoy would have said if you’d shown up in his house colours?�


“He would have been delighted,� Lisa Turpin put in, chuckling.


“I have no interest in what Malfoy has to say about my robes or anything else,� Aine told them haughtily, slamming her money down on the counter harder than necessary and giving the sales girl an apologetic smile when she started.


“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,� a drawling voice said behind Aine, and she closed her eyes for a moment in utter dismay. The Ravenclaw girls had gone very, very quiet, and she had no choice but to turn to face him or look like a complete fool.