Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

The Slytherin Ice Princess

Chapter One

Her petite body is lifted to her bedroom by spell. The silky black dress drapes below her. The curly raven hair drawn back in a midnight blue ribbon embroidered with roses, leaves her pale face exposed to the world. Her expression is peaceful, but troubled at the same time. Her mother trails behind sadly, feeling as if it is the end of her daughters life. There a platinum blonde haired boy with a pointed face, and stormy grey eyes gazes upon the ground with tears in his eyes. She is gone. His almost identical father rests a cold hand upon his shoulder, though not in a comforting way. After so many years of service to the dark, his heart and soul have drowned in the engulfing shadows for the rest of his days.

Nearby, many other children weep. Pain and anguish reflects in their eyes. One girl, the tallest of them all, with violet eyes and blue black hair, hums softly. Trying to tune out the world with her own sweet sound of mourning, though to no avail. She breaks down in tears. A boy of chocolate curls and colbalt blue eyes wraps his arms around her shoulders, shushing her softly, trying to hold back his own dew of despair.

Another girl, the strongest one of the group, feels the pressure of depression upon her shoulders. She begins shaking uncontrollably. Tears begin leaking from her hazel eyes and golden brown hair falls in front of her face, shading it in a dark way. A boy stands beside her, not knowing what to do. He decides to hold her hand in his and allow her to rest her head against his shoulder. His piercing black eyes that are usually hard with steel soften during this moment of silence. The hair that is black as a moonless night, decides to fall in front of his eyes at the perfect time. No one could see the salty drops fall until it trailed down his cheek.

The last boy. The one to make a joke at a time of solace, finds none come to his mind. The dark blue eyes are the last to fill with tears for he is in denial. His first friend is dead. The black hair has lost its shine and the form of spikes that it once took, well, they now hang limply.

The group was not one to show emotions, having built a barrier a long time ago during their... training.

They watch sorrowfully as she dissapears behind an oaken door, her mother and a sixteen year old girl following, alert.

Sierra lies within her bed, the breath of air hardly reaching her lungs as her chest rises and falls. Whispers surround her. Two people are... argueing? Her turquoise eyes flutter open and the scene of her mother and Hervana dissagreeing with what the other says. When they notice her conscious presence however, the whispers cease to continue.

"Sierra! Oh, my darling! I thought you were dead!" Her mother envelopes her into the most sincere hug she has ever recieved.

Hervana stands quietly, her red eyes showing amazement and curiousity. She stares unto the magenta walls and goes into a trance of thinking, motionless.

"How can it be? The poison inplanted in her drink should have killed her within seconds." She mumbles to herself.

"Mother," Sierra begins. "Do you know who put the viper's venom in my drink?"

"Are you sure that is what was used?" Hervana, snapping out of her state. Her mother withdraws from her daughter to hear what is needed to be said.

"I am positive. That particular snake is my characteristic, is it not?"

"No, that is true. However, whoever has commited the crime is not aware of that." The inhabitants of the room go silent.

"But, Hervana. No one, but the Serpentine Family, you, and I know that. It is supposed to be a sworn secret amoung all." Sierra has hit the heart of the problem and she looks upon the leader questioningly, as does her mother.

"That is what makes this investigation all the more difficult. This fact can lead to anyone at all. You can trust no one Sierra. Especially if someone finds out the mixture that _can _kill you." She finishes quietly, dropping her eyes to the ground.

Silence once more.

"What do you propose I do?" Sierra asks, whispering so that it is almost inpossible to hear.

"You are going to have to hide from civilization until the person is caught. It would be safest if you are a muggleborn that no one has ever heard of before. A bookworm would be perfect, unnoticable, unpopular, invisible. Harry Potter is going to Hogwarts this year along with you. Become friends with him at all costs. The closer you are to him, the safer you shall be." Hervana responds logically.

"Am I aloud to stay in contact with my friends?"

"No. As of now, you are dead to the world. Sierra Clementine Ventina no longer exists." She waves her hand over the blanketed form of the girl before her. As Sierra slowly changes, Hervana says solemnly, "Welcome to a new world. Your name is now Hermione Jane Granger."

I sit up so fast that my back feels sore. Sweat drips down my forehead and onto my cheeks. Although that was long ago, seven years to be exact, I still cannot get over the haunting memory.

Flashes of my friends standing before my grave. Tears falling swiftly, dressed in black. However, the boy I love and who loves me, falls upon his knees, and weeps for all that is cruel. I killed them that day, not just myself. My death causes all their hearts, their souls, to become colder than the ice that froze over the earth long ago.

I know that what I do now is right for my well being, but it is also cowardice that brings me to hide out as this girl, a muggleborn, a bookworm, an insignificant life form that everyone loves... and hates.

I whip back the sheets of my bed and touch that cold hardwood floor of my room. It sends unwanted chills up my spine as gooseflesh sprouts about my arms rapidly like a growing storm. Unwanted, like my life that of which is a lie.

Walking across the room, I notice that the window is sprung open, allowing the cold midnight air into my room, fluttering the thin red drapes. Closing it, I look into the vanity standing beside it.

Intricately carved with roses, black ebony. It was my fifteenth birthday present. I have an obsession with the Victorian Age, so, naturally, it was made in such a fashion.

I look into the reflection, no longer seeing the girl I want to be. Before, I could look deep into my own soul and see myself, but no more. I am nothing like I used to be, nothing, at all. Golden brown hair and eyes of hazel, just like Cleo's. Lowering my gaze to the top of the vanity, I see a paperweight made of Rose Zircon, my birthstone. My eyes travel back and forth from the paperweight to the mirror and I find one solution.

My small hand encloses the rock, my arm raises it, and my heart smashes it into my tormentor. As the shatters fly everywhere, I fall upon the floor, and do nothing to stop the tears that fall. Shoulders shake uncontrollably and I find no solution to the aching pain of deception.

Something is shining under my vanity. A shatter of the mirror, nothing more. That is what my mind tells me to believe. Finding curiousity overtake me, I crawl closer and stick a reluctant hand into the shadows. When the small object enters the bowels of my hand, I hope to feel pain strike through me as blood trickles from my palm, but no. It is as smooth and beautiful as I remember it.

A black topaz heart locket. Empty, but that does not distinguish its importance. The silver vines with tiny engrave leaves encircle the small body. It hangs from a delicate and simple silver chain, bright and shining in the little light coming from the moon peering through the curtains.

_I remember its purpose, but where is it? _ I race across my room and to the nightstand placed next to my bed. I dig through the contents of loose parchment and quills to come across... an empty bottom. Giving up crosses my mind, but that is not an option. Slowly, an image of myself flashes before my eyes:

_The nine year old child crouches next to the cabinets of the nighstand. Reaching into her pocket, she draws out the topaz locket. Placing it up against the silver symbol of a viper dangling a necklace in its mouth, a sound of many locks opening reaches her ears. She begins crawling in,and then, she disappears._

Long ago, I had realised that I have flash memory. It was difficult to control at first, but I soon figured out the concept and how to use it. Many years of... training and it was perfected.

Kneeling before the nightstand, I open the cabinet. There, in the back, is the same viper with the necklace dangling, but is coated in a thick layer of dust.

I push the original necklace against the engraving with my palm. Slowly, I turn it and the same sound of many locks opening returns. A gaping hole begins to form, growing larger as each second passes until it is possible for me to crawl through. Grasping my wand, I do so. The passageway is designed after the archway to Diagon Alley, though smaller in scale.

Inside there is nothing special. Brick corridors with a few extinguished lanterns. As I wave the rose wood wand, the fire comes alive within the torches. It is quite dank in here, though it is rather large. The ceiling is high enough for me to walk through, but my just brushes it. The further I venture, the colder it gets. I quickly grab a lantern to shed some light on the darkening hallways.

There, at the end, is a black rose. Beautiful, extremely beautiful, but deadly to me. Beside it is a simple black leather journal. Yet another symbol on the cover. Not unlike the one before, but slightly different. A silver carving of a rose. Beautifully simple. That was my grandmother's saying. Sienna Dormino.

I pick up the small book and open it carefully. I wouldn't put it past myself to have put some curses upon because of my friends constantly trying to read the contents. Luckily, there are none, well, at least I think there are not.

The last entry is from the day I 'died'.

_October 31_

_Dear Diary,_

_Another trajedy has befallen me. The lie of my death has become hard to bear even after just two dreadful hours. The cries of my friends let the guilt of my actions seem ten times worse. I wished for an outlet, and I got one for my 11 birthday. Throughout all this, I shall live up to my titles. The Slytherin Ice Princess and Queen of Serpents. Both are very honorable, but they both carry the weight of responsibility. I was made Queen of Serpents through blood, but Slytherin Ice Princess is a different story. I shall explain..._

That is enough for me to read! No more needs to be seen by my eyes. I race through the corridors and crawl out the cabinet. Shutting the doors behind me, I promise never to return to that place of memories that are all to painful. Despite this, I crawl onto by bed and fall asleep, the locket and diary still clutched in my arms.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

Seering pain. That is all I feel. Draco is on the brink of death and there is nothing I can do about it. He refused his father again. I know it. The Serpentine Family and the Death Eaters are mortal enemies and his father knows it. Draco made his choice, and no matter how excruciating the punishment is, he shall never beg for his life. I love him for that.

I wince as a feeling of a knife plunging through my chest reaches me once more. As a reflex, I grab the necklace and squeeze it with each stab at Draco. My mother looks at me questionably, but is wise not to ask. She has learned never to ask of my condition, it only brings a fight worse than a shouting match, emotional blows that can never be cured.

I am apparating to the train station, on my way to hell. Hogwarts is no longer the safe haven it once was. Exchange students are coming, and they are not going to help my situation.

Half an hour later, I am steading my purse and pushing the trolley towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Leaning against it casually, I quickly fall through the seemingly solid wall. My mother has just dropped me off, seeing as how Harry and Ron would question about how I look nothing like her.

Where is my father in all this? Dead. Murdered while working with the Order alongside Lily and James Potter. I shall always hold a grudge against them for not warning him of the Death Eater approaching swift and silent as the snake he is. I laugh silently at the irony of it all.

That's when I see him, Draco Malfoy... limping? Oh god. I walk in his direction, but not making it seem like I am heading towards him. He's grown taller, about six foot one by now. I look at his knee and see that his black pants are unnoticably growing a stain of blood upon it, unnoticably to anyone but me. A closer look and I notice his action of clutching his right shoulder, the location of his symbol.

I search through my purse and open the pocket mirror I have brought with me. Reflecting it towards my neck, I see that the concealer charm is working perfectly. The symbol is nowhere to be seen.

Finding I can do nothing for him without seeming suspicious, I walk away, dissapointed.

That's when I see it. A flash of violently red hair that anyone can distinguish. Ron.

"Hermione! Where have you been! We've been searching all over for you!" I look at his lopsided grin and freckled face. Next to him is Harry, same happiness, but a more mature smile. The war has taken away his youth and replaced it with the young adult before me. Sirius would have been proud.

"I just got hereRon. I was running a bit late." I respond, though, with much less enthusiasm. These two people can never understand me. Oh how I wish that my 'murder' never occured. I need my old friends, my old boyfriend.

"Oh okay. Let's get a seat before they all run out!" He points towards the steaming scarlet train.

I nod and follow their actions of walking upon the demon. Nothing has changed on this train since my first year. The same plump, elderly witch pushing the food trolley down the corridors. The same compartments with glass doors and surprisingly soft benches. At least the drive to hell will be somewhat pleasent.

The traditional compartment at the back is our destination. Secluded, but Draco always seems to locate it. How depressing. Already there is Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley, and Neville Longbottom.

Dean Thomas. He has notcibaly gotton handsomer over the summer. Taller, has some muscle, and his dark hair is about as messy as Harry's, but not quite. True, I harbor a crush for the boy, but I would never try my luck with him. One heartbreak is enough.

Taking my seat across Ginny, next to Dean, on the window seat, I listen, but do not participate in a conversation about their summers. Mine was terrible as usual. Visits from Draco and Blaise to my manor did not help the situation at all. Narcissa and Sonya (Blaise's mother) were pleasent enough, for my mother. Despite our spats, I hone a love for her that shall never extinguish. She is all I have left, but she will never understand me.

I am perfectly happy in my state of silence, but someone just has to break it.

"Well well well. Isn't it Potty, Weasle, and Mudblood! They have new friends too!" Draco.

I turn towards him with death in my eyes, wanting so badly to hurt him, but not to at the same time. That's when the most unlikely person comes to my aid.

"You're one to talk! At least we are decent people. Not like you, a Death Eater wannabe who has never loved anything but himself!" Dean, I pity you and admire you for making such a bold move. That will most likely get you killed or threatened.

"You know nothing about me Thomas. Say that one more time and you will wish that your mother never conceived you." His voice is dangerously low, that is not a good sign.

"And what could you possibly do to me?" Dean, you are a true Gryffindor.

"More than you think possible." With that, he leaves. The fire in his eyes reminds me so much of his father, of Lucius. Draco promised me that he would never be anything like his father, but most promises are never kept, especially those made towards the dead.

Dean looks towards me caringly. He puts a hand upon mine, bringing me out of my thoughts. I am in shock. What would cause him to make such a bold move? Oh god. He has feelings for me. This will most definitely complicate things.

"Thank you for defending us." I manage to choke out. I say us instead of me in case I'm mistaken. When I look towards the other's reactions, I realize that my assumption is correct. Ginny is smiling triumphantly and the rest have knowing smiles upon their faces.

"It was nothing Hermione." His voice is so quiet so deep. It reminds me of... no nevermind. They are two completely different people.

"Oh no! I'm going to miss the prefect meeting!" I blurt out suddenly, standing up. Dean looks dissapointed. This was the last option I had to get out of this situation. "Ron, we're going to be late!"

"Oh, Hermione, didn't I tell you? I was stripped of my prefect status because I was abusing it." Ron smiles sheepishly and lowers his gaze to the ground. I should have known.

"Well, then who is going to replace you?" I look towards everyone, desperate for an explanation, but _he _answers.

"I am Hermione." Dean speaks happily, dissapointment dissapating. Just what I need.

"I guess we should go then." I wave slightly towards everyone and as the sliding glass door closes, I hear the gossip concerning Dean and I. Guess who starts the conversation? I shall murder Ginerva.

Of course a silent walk towards the Prefect's compartment doesn't content _him._

"Is being a prefect difficult?" He says it in a way that fakes interest, just to speak to me. He 'accidentally' brushes my hand with his again and again. Damn boys and their raging hormones.

"It isn't difficult if you have the respect of the students." I'm not lying. Why do you think the Slytherins always get their way? Well, not exactly out of respect, more out of fear.

"And I suppose you do?" He asks jokingly. Maybe he isn't so bad. No. Bad Sierra, bad Sierra. You love Draco, remember?

"Who would respect the school bookworm. I'm mostly invisible to the students." I respond in mock sadness.

"I respect you." I can't believe he fell for it. Draco never would have.

"Why?" Yes, why?

"Because you're beautiful and brilliant." Smooth Dean. I'll give you points for that.

"Thank you." Nothing more is said and we have arrived in front of the Prefects' domain. More like the Prefects' lair. I tuck my necklace within my blouse. No one can see it.

Dean allows me to walk before him. Sorry, but polite gestures do not work on me.

Inside is Draco, Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, and some other people from different houses. I wonder who Head Boy and Girl are? Yes, the great and fake Hermione Granger was not made Head Girl and I am glad. Even more responsibility is the last thing I need right now.

What do you know? The last seat is right next to Draco. As you can tell, I am just jumping for joy. If anything strange happens in front of him... well, think of the consequences. At least Dean is left to stand. Ahh, I miss being evil.

That's when the least four people that I would ever want to see, walk in. Well, if I know them (which I do) the girls sashay in while the guys strut. Say hello to my friends.

Cleo, short for Cleopatra. The leader of us all. I admit that my appearence was ripped off hers. Only it looks so much more better on her. The tanned skin shows the egyptian princess she is. The golden brown hair that shines so brightly in the sunlight peeking through the windows. The hazel eyes that can twinkle with happiness or darken with anger. I admire her. She is the best dancer I have ever come across. She flows like water to the beats, knowing when and how to move. The goddess of dancing. She is so much like Ralpha that they seem perfect for each other. Despite this, she firmly denies it.

Ralpha, real name Raphael. The one who would do anything for Cleo. He loves her, but she finds him obnoxious. Ah well, one day, he will prove her wrong. His attitude is what all should beware. I remember a time when a boy insulted him about his heritage. He went up to him and whispered in his ear. We don't know what he said, but all we know is that the boy went running for his life. I really don't want to know what he told him. A true mexican, english is a second language, and most girls adore his accent. Unfortunately for them, he only has eyes for Cleo. Speaking of his eyes, they are jet black and show absolutely no emotion. It's amazing actually. His hair is black as a moonless night and his skin is a perfect shade of brown.

Francesca. A shy and beautiful girl from Spain. She has the voice of angels, but doesn't realize it. She is the most modest of the group, the opposite of Cleo who is wild and up to any challenge. Her wavy hair is the strangest color. Blue black. It depends on the way the light shines. Her eyes are a violent violet. We all used to say that. A smile for all, but do not doubt her ability to fight. If you push her right, well, she says things that makes me Ralpha shudder. (That's saying a lot.) As simple as her comebacks are, they can really emotionally damage you. Trust me, I know. Did I mention that she is the Queen of Saracasm? No? Well, it's true. Speaks Spanish as well as Ralpha and they have been known to have their argument in that language while the rest struggle to understand.

Matthew. The first friend I had ever made. A paternal twin to Francesca. Most likely the most protective older brother (by two minutes as Francesca insists) in the entire world. He is the one to throw out jokes at random moments, most are so clever you wonder where they come from. He is the peacemaker... and the war starter. He judges no one, but holds grudges that may last for years until the person apologizes sincerely, more like begs for forgivness. Draco experienced that first hand, not a pretty sight. Fluent in Spanish, French, and Italian. He studied all the Romance languages. Oh did I mention latin? He curses in random tounges and you wonder which one it is. He has straight black hair that is usually spiked and really dark blue eyes.

Did you notice that lack of last names? For some reason, they all choose to keep it a secret and those who find out are sworn to secrecy. I am one of those people. How do I know all these things when I've been forbidden to stay out of contact with them? Well, I have my spies in the walls. More like a lot of charms on my viper to stalk them. Hey, I need to know some things about my friends or I might die of isolation.

Well, of course as they walk in, they have to make a big deal about it.

"What no special announcment? No drumroll? This is total BS." Yep, that's Ralpha for you, doesn't give a shit if a Professor hears him. Get my point?

"You know, the world doesn't revovle around you Ralpha." Cleo comments. Here we go again.

"Before we go into this whole 'You're so immature' deal can I just say that you both act like five year olds." One point for Matthew, zero for the dynamic fighting duo.

"Am I aloud to speak?" Ralpha needs his spotlight back.

"Go ahead, no one stopping you." Matthew sounds like a psychiatrist.

Ralpha turns to Cleo and says, "You know you want me."

"Shut the hell up." Throughout this whole ordeal, everyone is silent wondering what in the world is going on. That's when the realize they're not the only ones alive.

"Oh, umm... what's up?" Matthew begins.

"Our names are not really important right now as they are about to be announced in two seconds." Cleo says.

And what do you know?

"Ralpha, Cleo, Matthew, Francesca?" Thank you for being so predictable Blaise, I applaud you.

"Told you so."

While everyone is reuniting, Francesca's eyes land on me. It's unnerving. She stares at me for a while until Matthew drags her into the conversation. I owe him so much.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

When everyone settles down I am slightly relieved. They have conjured up more seats, but my wishes have been answered and Dean is still left standing. Thank god. Although, Francesca still has not drawn her attention away from me. Despite discussions of which all are curious to hear, she will answer vaguely and flash me glances that show she is suspicious of me.

I wish that I could sink into the wooden benches and disappear. Something very unlike me. However, I shall sit up straight and pretend as if I am not within venomous serpent territory. Draco glares at me on occasion, but I don't care. What really disturbs me is Dean. His not-so-secretive gazes are filled with lust and admiration. Of course, I ignore them, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to be oblivious to my surroundings. Especially since I am treading on thin ice with so many people that can remember all my habits and doings. One also can't forget the dangerously curious Francesca. She may be shy, but she has the willpower of a lion. Hardly a Gryffindor though.

To the right of me, there is conversation becoming increasingly interesting with each word. Luckily, unlike Dean, I am discreet about my glances.

"So, how's Ralpha's relentless flirting Cleo?" Daphne asks eagerly, leaning in. She yearns for gossip. It is her lifeline. Pansy, even though I love her to pieces, is no better. They are the Lavender and Parvati of Slytherin. There is no doubt to that fact.

Making sure that the boys aren't listening, she comes closer and whispers, "I think I might be falling for it. Sure, it's annoying at times, but at other times, it's actually kind of cute." Who would have thought? Ralpha might actually be getting somewhere. Bravo.

Pansy and Daphne giggle slightly. "Will you accept his dating offers?" Pansy asks, wanting more. They draw in this information like vampires on the search for blood.

Cleo blushes, an uncommon occurrence. "Maybe, but wouldn't it mean that I'm giving up? You know that I hate losing a game and this one is too fun." She finishes mischievously, smirking. "I think I'll torture him for a while before I'll give him a chance."

They giggle again. Will this ever end? I am getting bored of this, even though Cleo's words are extremely amusing, I'd rather hear from the boys' and Francesca's end.

Switching my hearing to their side, I listen intently. Who would have thought that I would lower myself to eavesdropping out of pure boredom? I guess desperate times call for desperate measures so to speak.

"Draco, how are you holding up?" Matthew's playful look has disappeared. Concern has graced his slightly tanned face while the rest show the same. I wonder what they're speaking of.

"Life is miserable. I feel loss as each day passes. Not to mention the beatings a curses that have been sent upon me by my father. He is relentless in his attempt to force my view of the war. I can hardly take it anymore. Sometimes I wish he would just kill me and get it over with." He is holding back tears behind his stormy grey eyes. A pang in my heart pains me so, but I know he hates pity. No matter how much he may need it.

"Draco, you have to get over her. As much as we know that it hurts, you have to." Raphael says wisely. I would never expect that from him.

"You don't understand." The same growl and look from before. It makes me shudder inwardly.

"We may not feel the pain as much as you do, but we still feel it. Don't think for one second that we have forgotten her, for that is the farthest thing from the truth as it ever shall be." He defends himself, but shows anger towards the emotionally tormented blonde.

Draco opens his mouth, but someone cuts him off.

"I don't think that she is..." Oh no. She isn't going to say 'dead' is she? I feel panic overcome me. Whatever she says is not going to help me. Luckily, right at this moment, Professor McGonagall walks in with a flourish of her velvet green robes.

She has aged, but has not lost her respect. The same prim and proper lady from first year, though she seems tired and solemn. The war is doing this to her. If this continues, she shall be too weak to fight, ending up in her... No, mustn't think of that.

"I am proud to say that you have all become prefects. As for the Head Boy and Head Girl, they are Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass." I should have known. Both brilliant in mind, but logical at heart. Yes, Daphne is logical, though her gossip doesn't seem so to I.

"Now for my announcements. This year, the Prefects shall share a dormitory with one another while the Heads shall have their own nearby in case of urgent contact." My heart is beating faster. No. This can't happen. I know that it is for the welfare of the students, but I cannot be in the same area as them. No, no, no.

"You shall all have you own rooms, but will have the same common room, bathroom, and so forth. Please do not let ridiculous prejudices get in the way of your jobs. This is relevant to the security of all." No one makes a comment. All are so into shock that they are speechless. I of course, have reached the point of insanity from all the anticipation.

"Now, may I introduce the new students..." Of course, Ralpha interrupts her. One of the best people I know, but he has no idea when the right time to speak is.

"Sorry to interrupt." At least he has regained some dignity. "But we have already announced ourselves. We have no last names to be said for we find that it is an invasion upon personal privacy. I hope this is not a problem." He stands in the compartment and makes a big deal of himself of course. That boy is to vain for his own good.

McGonagall raises an eyebrow at this sudden declaration, but decides to let it go for reasons unknown to me. "Well, the usage of your last name is up to you, and if all four of you wish to follow this way, than I can do nothing to stop you."

"Sweet." You immaturity astounds me to no end Matthew.

The Professor ignores his comment and continues the waterfall of information pouring out her mouth. "You four shall all be sorted after the first years. The sorting is carried out by placing a hat upon your head which shall read you personalities and sort you into the corresponding house. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

Hmm... I wonder which house these people shall be sent to. In case you didn't catch my sarcasm (by the way, that would be idiotic in my opinion) I do know where they are going to be put. It would also be idiotic if you haven't figured it out.

McGonagall is rambling again. I'm sure no one is listening, hardly anyone does. All the attention is reserved for Albus Dumbledore, the most brilliant wizard of time. Can you imagine how disappointing it is for him not to have seen through my rouse? I thought not.

She leaves, her words following. Thank god.

The rest of the train ride commences as it has before. Boring conversation while the rest look on with curiosity. Although, there is one memorable incident...

A Ravenclaw boy is staring at Francesca much like Dean is to me. She is becoming more uncomfortable as each minute passes, fidgeting with the end of her halter top. Matthew, however, makes himself known.

"My sister is not an exhibit at a museum. I know that Ravenclaws study excessively, but I think that you've gone to far." He says coolly. The Ravenclaw turns bright red in response. I wish Dean would do that.

Yawning slightly, I remain silent for quite a while until the politest girl on the planet has to stop that.

"What is your name?" Cleo asks, drawing away from Daphne and Pansy. Ralpha, Matthew, and Francesca seem interested too. The other Slytherins just glare.

"Hermione Granger." I say quietly. I know well not to avoid her gaze, she sees that as a sign of weakness.

"You already know us, but what about the rest?" She indicates her friends from Slytherin. This questionaire is becoming uncomfortable.

"We aren't exactly on friendly terms." Draco offers. Thanks ever so much. If you ever speak to me as Sierra again, I might have to hurt you.

"How so?" She looks towards me again, though warily.

"He calls me a..." I fade off. You might think this strange, but the foursome are extremely against prejudice. The others used to be too, but I guess their parents took advantage of their weakest time.

"A what?" Her eyes soften, while the others stiffen slightly.

Might as well not hide it any longer. "A mudblood."

Noticeably, the others wince while Ralpha, Francesca, Cleo and Matthew all say the same thing:

"Can we talk to you outside?" He winces once more at the foursomes reaction, I do so myself. Whatever they have to say is not going to be pleasant.

As the five all walk to the corridors the ones who have been watching with interest look at me in shock while Daphne, Pansy, and Blaise glare relentlessly. Dean reacts differently.

"I'm glad they're finally getting what they deserve." He sits on the now vacant spot next to me. Oh joy.

"I feel kind of sorry for him. The four are furious." I move slightly away from him, it goes unnoticed.

"After all the ridicule for the past seven years, I think that whatever happens to him will cover that." I smile slightly and turn away, looking out the window at the passing scenery. It is getting noticeably darker.

This is so wrong, on so many levels, but I must do it. Focusing on the window, I let my mind go blank and concentrate on the vision of the corridor. Searching for a weak mind to let me see through their eyes. Who? Draco. He has been invaded so many times that he will not notice.

_Through His Eyes:_

"_What are you doing to yourself? Have they finally corrupted you?" Cleo asks with concern and disgust._

"_No, they haven't, but..." He begins. Draco, you disappoint me._

"_You promised her! You promised her that you would never become your father. We had plenty of muggleborn friends! Did you drive them all away?" He looks to the floor in shame._

"_Cleo, I'm weak. I can't hold myself up against him anymore! He knows it and he's using it to his advantage. If someone doesn't stop him, I'll soon become what he wants me to be!" Draco looks up in hope for redemption._

"_You are not weak Draco. You are merely hopeless. You've given up all hope to live! Don't you see? If you continue this, you'll end up fighting against us and we shall show no pity for you as you fall to the ground dead." A powerful speech for such a small girl. Francesca has spoken. She of course, have seen more pain then anyone. I shudder at the thought._

"_Wait. Someone's looking through your eyes Draco." Dammit. Curse you for being so brilliant Francesca._

I draw away. They're running to the compartment. What do I do? They'll find out it's me. I look around wildly for a distraction. Dean. I can't believe I'm about to do this. I pull him towards me and... well, let's just say that he is very happy right now.

"Whoa. I didn't see that coming." Matthew, I hate you so much right now.

I pull away and push Dean back into his seat. He doesn't notice for he is a deep trance right now. Besides the fact that he is smiling like a fool. I am utterly repulsed right now. I cannot believe I was that desperate. I am so glad that I don't blush. They rest come in just in time to find out what occurred.

"Umm... That was interesting." Blaise raises an eyebrow at me. Daphne and Pansy are hardly containing themselves. The rest are in horror while Daphne makes a comment.

"Who would've guessed that sweet little Hermione would do something as bold as that." I am confused at her usage of my first name, but my plan is working, no matter how disgusting it was.

Draco seems to have gotten out of his state of terror. "I sure as hell didn't."

Everything returns to a sense of normalcy, although, I could do without the awkward silence. Dean is standing again as Draco threatened to kill him if he didn't get out of his seat. I guess the conversation angered him quite a bit. I do not feel sorry for Dean as I want him to be as far away from me as possible. Too bad this compartment is small. How depressing.

Eventually, the crowd thins out to change into their robes. I am one of the first. I hate silence. It reminds me too much of a hearse. Oh wonderful, I have begun using death terms in everyday conversation. Next I will be wearing all black and be on the brink of suicide. Such happy thoughts I have hmm?

**Author's Notes: Yes, that is the end. Strange, huh? Well, Dean's wish has come true and Hermione/Sierra is disgusted. I live to make my characters miserable. Soo... anyways, read and review! Either do that, or I shall... do something. Use your imagination.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

In the small confines of the stall in the girl's lavatory, I change into the unflattering uniform that takes away all opportunities for self-expression. Of course, most girls doll themselves up in layers of makeup, but my goal is to remain unattractive, unnoticed. Unfortunately, my current friendship with Harry Potter has stolen most chances for that. Why Hervana advised me to do so, I will never know. Despite this, I take out a pocket mirror and look myself over. I don't have to look terrible. Satisfied, I stuff it into my robe pocket.

Sighing at the cruelty of it all, I exit the cubicle and head out the swinging door, wand clasped tightly in my hand. The corridors of the train are deserted. That's no surprise. Most students wait till the last minute to change. Conversation from within the compartments give me somewhat of a comfort knowing that I'm not alone on the train. It so empty that it's unnerving. Ah well, nothing to worry about.

The lights are flickering. That's unusual. Shrugging it off, I continue towards the Prefects' Lair. The train jerks violently and causes the balance that I treasure to snap in two. The wand flies out of my right hand as I fall forward not as gracefully as I would like, but then, who would?

Silence, pure silence. Everyone has been sucked into this dimension where sound does not exist, only fear. I feel myself shivering. The temperature has dropped unto one that is freezing and unreal. I wish that I could get up and take shelter into the nearest compartment, but my body has become numb to the point of no return.

Silvery breath exits from my mouth in a fantasy like swirl. Fairies dancing my grandmother would say, fairies dancing.

I hear the swish of a cloak from behind me. I pray to god that it is not who I think it is. A sense of daring is overcoming me as the feeling in my limbs return. I quietly press me palms against the hardwood floor and begin to push against it. Just as my chest reaches a few inches above the ground. Something presses against my back thus pushing me back down roughly. My cheek hits the floor and a bruise is slowly forming upon it.

Someone is kneeling beside me while keeping a hand forcefully atop me, almost possessively.

"Wonderful disguise Ms. Granger, but I can see right through it." A voice whispers in my ear. The emphasis on my name shows that I cannot fool everyone with my well planned out rouse. Not everyone is tricked by a concealment charm and a good actress. Well, even that is open for debate.

"Who are you?" I choke out. When nervous, all rational thought disappears. Even the mightiest of all must fall under certain circumstances and this is one of them.

"You honestly don't remember me Sierra? I'm hurt. Especially after the claims of me being the worst traitor known to man." I'm in a state of shock I know exactly who he is...

"I refuse to say a name that hurt me so." A whispered chuckle.

"Isn't that a shame? What if we create a proposition?" He heaves me from the floor and lifts himself and I into a standing position. I'm facing away from him, but I'd rather not see his face. The memories of betrayal to strong within my mind.

"What kind of proposition?" I'm making a deal with the devil and there is no going back.

"You say my name and I won't take you to your true friends and reveal you secrets." He whispers the ending. Hot breath reach the back of my neck, spine tingling in response. That has never happened before. Impossible, unless he isn't human anymore.

"Pass. That is cruel." Maybe I really belong in Gryffindor. Oh, wait. A Gryffindor wouldn't be terrified of an old friend. The Sorting Hat was wrong. Perish the thought.

Another whispered laugh that only reaches my reluctant ears. "The Slytherin Ice Princess attitude returns. Come." I'm pulled away to the opposite direction of my original destination.

It amazes me how ignorant my pupils are. No one notices the dark figure leading another down the corridor. This disturbs me.

Finally, he stands me in front of a compartment. Where Harry and the others reside. How wonderful.

A cloaked arm reaches for the handle and slides in open quickly, but quietly. What a disappointment, I was hoping for him to bang it open thereby attracting attention. Why even hope anymore? All my wishes and dreams have been dashed.

"Hermione? What's going on?" Ah yes, please state the obvious Ron! We all are too stupid to notice.

"Let her go." Harry to the rescue. I wouldn't mind him pointing a wand at an old, betraying, friend, if he even had a chance. In this case however, he doesn't. Pity.

"I bring a message from the Dark Lord and what better way to present it with an old friend of mine." Is that the reason he's here? No, it's a lie. He's here for something else, but I cannot fathom what.

"You know him?" Harry Potter is bewildered. Must remember to write this in history books.

"Unfortunately." Another daring move. Maybe if I shut my mouth I'll live to see eighteen. Actually, I would be happy to see tomorrow. The library has never been more inviting.

"I'm hurt Hermione. I thought we were friends." He's breathing on my neck heavily. Must of been a long journey. Ginny and the others are paralyzed. Can't really blame them though.

"We used to be." I look upon the floor, lost in thought. We could've still been.

Another calm, amused laugh. I hate this. Just talking to him is torture. "I still love you Hermione." I didn't expect this.

"Shut up! She doesn't even know you!" Neville has found his voice. I am so proud of him. (Note the sarcasm please.)

"I beg to differ. I've known her before you have and I need to send a message to the oh so great Harry Potter." A sneer of hatred. Angering him will do no good.

"Then speak and let Hermione go." A flash of worry behind his green eyes that show pity and... Terror? Oh Harry, please don't let your bravery be taken. You are my last hope. There I go again, with hope. I might as well create my will. I'll die soon anyways.

"I don't think so. You see, unless your little friend here, says my name, there is no releasing her." I can't say it, I can't say it. A mantra that refuses to come out of my mouth.

"Well then. Hermione, say it!" He coaxes me again and again, slowly losing his patience. "JUST SAY THE DAMN NAME!" Wonderful, why doesn't he just broadcast my position hmm?

"I won't." Firm words spoken so that it even surprises me. I was sure it would come out as a weak and pathetic stutter. Although, I'm not complaining.

"You won't? Isn't that a shame." He's leaning closer to my neck. "I suggest that you change your decision, Hermione."

"Get away from her!" Ginny is using the old Weasley temper. Shame it doesn't work on him.

"And what will you do about it?" He doesn't leave my neck, but opens his mouth and brushes his canines against the creamy skin. They aren't normal.

I reach into my pocket, but he grabs my wrist, stopping me from doing so.

"What are you looking for?"

"Not my wand, I swear. I just need to get something." Fluttering my eyelashes innocently while speaking this. Flirting with him, surprisingly, works. His grip has dissipated and I am free to grab the pocket mirror that I stowed away earlier. With shaking hands, I can feel his amused gaze as I open it to reflect the scene over my shoulder. Nothing. Nothing but the sliding door.

I drop it in shock, the sound of the shatter echoing about. My eyes wide open with fear, I hear him speak, holding back another chuckle. Now, he does frighten me. Now, he does.

"Bravo Hermione. You have discovered my secret. Say my name, or you will experience more excruciating pain, then you have in a long time." I stiffen under his stare, his touch, his breath. There is no use in fighting, my wand has been flung down the corridor, and he has the advantage. The rest are no help either.

Make a decision Sierra. Fight and become undead, or kiss and live. I choose the latter. I can't believe I'm doing this twice in a day, but they are the only distractions I can think of.

Draco, if you ever see me again as me, I am so sorry.

Twirling around in his arms, I look upon him, into sea green eyes I saw so much as a child. They are filled with interest and lust. No surprise. Suddenly, he descends his lips upon mine. Well, at least I didn't begin it.

This kiss is far from gentle, different than Draco's, but familiar to me. I have kissed him before, I admit it. Although, he was my boyfriend then. Before I met Draco, before he betrayed us, before I died.

He pushes me up against the compartment wall as the rest watch in horror. Their friend is snogging the enemy, what a wonderful sight. However, I would rather see it then experience it. His hands holding my arms above my head. He has been wanting this for a while.

Then, gray eyes flash in front of my closed ones. Filled with hurt and fury. I can't do this anymore, I can't. Sorrowful dew drips from my eyes as it continues. He either doesn't notice, or doesn't care. This is going to far for too long.

Pulling away, I lean forward and whisper into his ear, "Michael Zabini." A smirk of triumph crosses his face. It sickens me. I have given him two of the things he wants, the last, is just to much to bare.

He brings down my now bruised wrists and leaves a crumpled parchment within my tiny and frail hand. I must begin eating once more. Depriving myself of such things have no point.

This time, he returns a message, telekinetically:

"Goodbye Sierra, but next time, don't use me as a diversion. No matter how much I enjoy or want it." That's the last thing I hear before he fades from existence without a sound.

Francesca's P.O.V

The lights slowly return from their extinguished state. Something is wrong. That Hermione girl has not returned, and I have grown a liking to her. She is withholding a secret. A dark one if I'm correct. She may believe that her act is convincing to all, but I am not one to be so easily fooled.

The shock and loneliness on her face when she saw us walk in with all pride seemed familiar. I've seen it before. The sudden kiss to Dean as soon as we re-entered the compartment. You cannot hide behind walls from me. Was she the one seeing through Draco's eyes? Possible, but very unlikely. No one except one is powerful enough to do that and she is deceased. Maybe she does hone a crush on the artist, as does he, but the sudden action still puzzles me.

Draco has never stopped mourning since he began seven years ago. I haven't been holding up well myself, but the are for two different reasons. At such a thought, I finger the concealed area around my left wrist. A concealed mark of self-inflicted pain. I promised Cleo and the others I would stop, but it had become a escape for me ever since the beatings and harsh words began at age nine.

Yes, a young age to have seen so much. Innocence from violent mind do not exist to me. I have seen and experienced bloodshed, but have not become one with a cold heart. I greet everyone with a fake smile and little care for my well-being, but no one needs to find out. Right?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

I learned long ago that emotional pain is a figment of your imagination. An illusion that you create within the bowels of your mind, but what I feel now proves that theory wrong. The traitor who has now reappeared in my life will not leave soon. The curse is beginning. Once fate has been written on a prophecy, there's no going back. There's no escaping cruel fate.

The crumpled parchment within my hand holds a dark secret that may alter the future, or destroy it.

Silence seems to enjoy the effect it has on me, uncomfortable and full of deceit. I can't take it any longer…

"Please say something." The whispered words hover in the air and no response returns for a long time.

Minutes pass, hours seem to follow it, but then again, time is meant to create misery.

"What should we say? We're in shock, we feel betrayed, and we can't believe you of all people would be the cause of that." Ginny, my only friend, thank you. Your words, however cold, still give the essence of you caring deeply. Those who do not care do not speak.

"Why did you do it?" Ron has found his voice, but anger is radiating from it. There is no doubt in my mind that you will yell at me for such actions. Nevertheless, I deserve it. Nothing can justify what I have done, nothing.

"I had to. If I could tell you, I would, but some things are better left unsaid." The truth, vague yes, but the truth.

"You can tell us anything Hermione." I flinch the accursed name. "Anything. You can trust us. If you keep it a secret, how are we to understand?" The redheaded female is so full of wisdom yet the irony of it all is that her wisdom does nothing in this situation.

"Trust me Ginny. If I told you, it would put more than one person in danger." My neck burns and I take this as a warning.

"Who was he?" Should I tell them? Would it help? Take away one load? No. It will do nothing.

"A traitor, a vampire." They gasp slightly at this. Looking down at my feet, I see the shattered remains of the mirror. It reflects my tired face, something it failed to do moments before. Hmm… I seem to be destroying more mirrors in my lifetime. Isn't that an action of bad luck. Well, they _are _my enemy, a reminder of who I have become.

The symbol burns once more and Harry speaks. "Let me see the note." He holds out a hand, but I refuse to give him what he seeks.

"No. It may hurt you. I know this person well enough. I wouldn't put it past him to curse it." Harry retracts his hand, but gives me a desperate look. He wants it, I won't give it.

Unfolding the parchment, I glance once to the people in front of me. They accepted my friendship long ago, but I never returned the favor. Today, I pay my debt. I will prove that I am worthy of their acquaintance by saving them from the truth. Well, that is what I tell myself. I am merely saving the lie I have kept and grown for years.

_Il mio caro,_

_You know of the curse, you know what part you take in it. This is not my fault. Blaise was lucky; he was not bestowed with what my 'family' calls a gift. Learn from this Sierra. You know that you must keep the secret, but I will make sure that there will be trouble along the way. If you do not follow the prophecy as said, I will reveal you and all will desert you. Do not forget that even in death, I will haunt you for the rest of your days._

_Tell Potter that the war is approaching. Keep his friends close and his enemies closer. Do not doubt the power of the Dark Lord. I do not serve him, no. I merely believe in him. You of all people 'Hermione' know that I march to the beat of my own drum._

_Michael Zabini,_

_P.S. Any one, who reads this beside you, will only see a blank parchment... Be wise not to have this charm in use though. It would cause many uncomfortable questions._

My hands shake at this.

"Hermione?" Someone asks unsurely. My vision is so blurred I can see nothing, but forms of those around me. No response comes from my mouth, only rapid breaths. Swaying on my feet, I fall upon the floor.

Nothing is within my control anymore as my heart's despair clouds my mind with memories that visit me every waking moment. The last thing I see is a concerned face and I'm lost in the shadows of those who care.

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I've been observing the Thomas boy, unknown to all but myself. His behavior is… strange. I can't think of a way to describe it. When the lights extinguished, he went rigid, eyes blank, emotionless. I brushed it off as a phobia to the dark, but something is not right. I shall consult Francesca about this. She knows more than most give her credit for.

Poor girl. She has experienced more pain than most full-grown men and woman. Harry Potter may not even understand her. My eyes fall upon her wrists. She has not given up on the comfort from a blade. She believes in it wholeheartedly, and it scares the rest of us. Blaise most of all. He obviously hones an infatuation for the girl, but has made no act upon it. Silly boy.

Raphael has not given up on his conquest for me, but then again, I doubt he ever will. It's funny really. He is somewhat handsome; I wouldn't mind dating him if his ego would just shrink a bit. I think he's growing on me. He does to most, despite his ways of introduction.

Matthew is attempting to make his sister laugh. It's so wonderful how close they are. I wish that she would smile more often. She has such a beautiful smile. She is a beautiful girl, though she will deny it repeatedly. Just like Sierra…

This thought brings me to observe Draco. He has gotten worse. I think he knows something, though he refuses to share. Didn't his mother visit Mrs. Ventina along with Mrs. Zabini? I cannot remember.

My symbol tingles and I reach up to touch it as a reflex. Francesca, Daphne, and Pansy follow my actions while the boys reach for their shoulder. Our gazes reach another and we know what it means. It's a sign, well, more of a warning. We are doing something wrong. Something we have done is wrong. Francesca's eyes widen and she leaves the compartment swift as a deer. Blaise makes a movement to follow, but Matthew puts a hand in front of him, a motion to stop.

The confused stares of the prefects cover us. This will not do.

"What?" I snap at them. They avert their eyes away and continue what they're doing. Thomas seems to be alive again. Moving, speaking animatedly with his friends. Something is not right. Wasn't he standing moments before? Who left? I scan the room for something amiss and then it comes to me…

Where is the Hermione girl?

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I'm running down the corridors of the scarlet train and the compartments whose doors are open, have many boys peeking out to look at my passing figure. I roll my eyes at their actions. Must avoid them all, if possible. Now that I think about it, I won't need to, not with Matthew threatening anyone who dares to even speak to me. Besides, I like someone else.

Never mind that, I have to focus on the matter at hand. Where is she? I know that she went to change, but it wouldn't have taken her this long. Especially since she doesn't seem like one to spend hours looking into a mirror.

Wait a minute. Hermione Granger, now I remember why she is so familiar. She's friends with the infamous Harry Potter. Should have known. I swear that I'm the least informed being alive…

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My eyes flutter open and I wince slightly at the light shining down upon me. Then nightmare awoke me. Well, it wasn't exactly a nightmare, more of a, memory. Although, it was not pleasant at all.

I find that I'm in an awkward position, leaning against the window where the wind is blowing through my hair. What a wonderful to wake up hmm?

Sitting up into a somewhat comfortable position, I hear sighs of relief chorus around me. Apparently, I have been worried about. I'm honored. Might as well behave oblivious.

"What happened?" I rub a spot on my forehead where a headache is beginning to form.

"You just fainted after reading the parchment. We tried to read it, but it just came up blank. What did it say?" Harry speaks with unease and anxiety. I do not know if I'm doing this for them, or for myself. The simple note can harm either, but I am not sure of my morals.

"Nothing of importance, this whole incident was just devised to frighten us, leave us in anticipation. Just leave it. Forget that this ever happened." With that said, I lay back down and shut my eyes for a brief moment.

I can feel their gazes upon me, studying my movements, searching for any sign of a lie. They find none. A crash sounds at the sliding door and I bolt up. The sudden movement brings the pain back into my neck.

When I open my eyes, blurry from the pain, a petite figure is situated in front of me. As I begin to focus, I realize that it is Francesca, my dear friend.

"Hermione you're needed in the Prefect's compartment. There's business that needs your attending to." Her voice is unsure, something is wrong.

"Umm… All right." I look around me at the faces pleading for me to stay, but I know that I cannot. "Goodbye." I wave halfheartedly at the rest and follow Francesca out. Her wavy blue-black hair sways behind her as she walks with light steps, as dainty as a fairy. Her eyes furrow and I watch as she cradles a certain spot on her neck, the same place my symbol resides. I guess I wasn't the only one to feel the pain, but obviously, the rest didn't collapse as I had.

I'm so confused as to what they need me for. No one seemed to want to carry on duties before I left. All were content in just socializing, especially the new comers. The rest always stared at them in confusion though. I wonder why. They spoke quite clearly in my opinion.

I can't contain myself, I must ask.

"What do they need me for?" Silence. Her eyes darken slightly. "Is everything alright?" She is scaring me. Her actions are not kind a friendly like before. The violet orbs sweep over her surroundings before she turns to me. I can sense an aura coming off her in waves. She's casting a spell around us. I wonder whatever for. It's not like I am a threat or anything.

Suddenly, she pushes me up against the wall and she stares at me with malice.

"Who are you?" She growls and it makes me shiver. I cannot fight her, but I can lie. I hope. She has something special within her, we all expected her too, but she never told us what. Just shrugged it off, politely denying it.

"I'm Hermione Jane Granger, who else would I be?" My voice shakes in fear. She can kill me without an effort, but I will fight back. I didn't fake my death just to live only to be killed before this façade can end. No. Sierra Clementine Ventina does not go down without a fight.

"Liar. There is a familiarity about you that I can feel." She pushes me harder against the wall so I can feel the aching pain.

"There is nothing familiar for you to recognize. You just met me." I fake with shock and a clueless composure, something I am good at.

She laughs without humor. You must be joking. Don't lie to me." She yanks back my head and fingers my neck.

Oh god.

A tingling feeling spreads across my neck. Her grip loosens and she walks back, her gaze disbelieving.

"No. It can't be… Sierra?"

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Shit.

What was that? My pale hand reaches for my shoulder and I rub it subconsciously. It's almost like the Dark Mark except the pain is less extreme. I wish Lucius would stop pressuring me, it's becoming harder to refuse. He got more violent today. He drew blood from me. I respect Francesca, but I will not collapse like her, causing myself pain just to get by. No. I shall remain who I am. The King Cobra, mate to the Viper… Sierra.

Now I have one more secret that needs to be held. A prophecy I overheard from Mrs. Ventina. I don't know why she speaks of it anymore though. The must important person involved is… dead.

**Authors Note: I have finally completed this so sorry that it took so long. The inspiration isn't coming as I want it too. Next chapter they finally get to Hogwarts, I promise. I hope you don't hate me for the cliffy involving Francesca, I couldn't help myself. Never fear though, she isn't discovered by all yet. You shall see. Il mio cara means My beloved in Italian. Please tell me if it's correct (that is if you know). I got it off a translator on the internet. I have an important author's note in my profile so please visit it. **

**Read and Review**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

My heart's beating faster than I thought possible. I have but two options, deny, or run. Well, those aren't my only options, but I don't think I can choose the path of admittance. I admit I am scared of what is to come, so scared I have not made no action. Might as well speak…

"Who's Sierra?" Hmm… As you can tell, I am very brave right now. Okay, no. I'm actually embarrassing myself. Mother would be so ashamed. Not that she isn't already.

The violet eyes darken once more and I find myself fearing her abilities.

"You know damn well who she is." She growls and I am shocked. Never in my life have I heard her curse. How much have I missed?

"I swear, I don't know." The calmness of my voice returns and I find that I'm able to hold up a mask of innocence. Something I do not hone.

"She _was _my friend, but she's been lying to me. Faking her death to the expense of others. Making the one person who truly loves her become a suicidal. I can't believe she would do such a thing." She gazes at me with pure disappointment. "Don't lie. Your insignia is enough to identify who you are."

"You still remember it. After all these years." I stare at the floor in shame, in sorrow, in failure.

"How could I forget it? It was the last thing Draco ever touched, that we ever saw. We died that day."

"So did I."

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Hmm… She remembered.

My eyes rest upon my brother, Blaise. He hates me and the feeling is mutual. My fists clench. He wasn't bestowed with this curse, he would have been the one gazing at me, not the other way around. You shall pay little brother… But how?

What's this? His blue eyes that are so similar to my own are filled with worry. For who? Ah… yes, Francesca. I believe Sierra will have to agree to my requests more often, or else two more shall suffer.

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"What is she hiding!" Harry hits the wall with his fist and I cannot help but flinch. His temper has gotten no better. But my heart asks the same. What _is_ she hiding. That note was blanked out for a reason and none of us are going to rest 'till we discover what. We all are very determined and we all hate a secret going unsolved. Especially me, Ginerva Weasley.

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The silence surrounding us is unbearable and the only thing I can say is, "I'm sorry."

Her eyes are large and unblinking, as realization dawns upon her. "You're alive." A whisper of regret, though I can't understand why. "Don't be sorry. I played a part in this." She leans on the wall besides me and continues with a soft cry. "I knew there was something different about you, but I told no one. Now that I do know, I can only think of spreading it, letting everyone know that you're alive and alright, but that seems so wrong…"

I sigh. "There is nothing wrong with that. It would be the logical thing to do, take away the pain and replace it with joy, but that can't happen." I pause here and take a deep breath. "All this time, I've wanted someone to find out and then again I don't. Francesca, you were my greatest friend and you have no idea how much it hurts to make Draco suffer, but I have no choice. All I can do is hope that one day I can redeem myself despite the fact that he'll hate me."

"He won't." She reassures firmly. "He misses you more than you know, trust me. I've contacted him as much as possible, but it is very difficult to keep in touch with someone in his condition. It's the same experience as talking to a wall; depressing, pointless, and unsatisfying."

I wince at the small hints she is throwing at me,

_It's all your fault. He's not with us mentally anymore, hardly. He's just an empty shell that will never be full again until **you** go back to him. Tell him it's going to be alright… alright._

"I still cannot tell him, Hervana warned me not to do so. I assume she is the reason you have so unceremoniously arrived at Hogwarts without warning?" Change the subject Sierra, it might help. Of course it won't. She is the brilliant one, she doesn't let small details go without looking into them. Much like myself.

"Yes, she is. How do you know that she is right in telling you to hide?"

"And how do _you_ know that she is right in telling you to come here? We are nothing but family Francesca. She is basically our older sister, there is no denying that. Her word is law…"

She cuts me off, "As is yours. You are the Queen of Serpents and we are the Serpentine Family. Our purpose is to follow you, not the other way around. Not counting your being the Slytherin Ice Prin…"

"No. Don't say it."

"Don't be ashamed of it. It's an honor! Nothing more nothing less."

"It is a disgrace."

She sighs in defeat and slides down the wall thereby sitting upon the ground. "You were my only friend Sierra. Please, come back to us. We'll make sure nothing happens to you."

"It's not my murderer that I fear."

"Who then?" She gazes up in concern and confusion. I wonder how long it's been. Most likely they'll come looking for her.

"It's…"

_Don't tell._ Something whispers to me in a deep voice that I know all to well.

_I'm going to make you a deal. I shall contact you when necessary. Lie, or your friends will experience more pain than they already do. Francesca shall be first. So weak, so easy to break…_

_**No. Don't, I won't tell.**_

_Good girl._

The voice is gone and I continue, hoping to cover up my dazed expression and moment of silence.

"It's nobody. I have no clue."

"Then why hide?"

"Because I must."

Author's Note:

First of all, I'm sorry that this took forever for me to write. I had absolutely NO inspiration and I wanted to make this longer, but I can't think of anything. Soo... yeah. My friend is reading this all before you so HAHAHA! She forced me to write that I swear. Okay no. Well, maybe yes, but that's for you to figure out. : D Hehe.

Laterzz,

Queen of Serpents

P.S. Umm... This is one thousand words shorter than the rest of the chapters so sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

I leave her without another word, submerged in her own doubts and thoughts while I try to focus upon my own. _Will she tell?_ That has been bothering me relentlessly throughout our conversation. Well, more of a reunion.

She spoke of Draco's condition, and now the weight of guilt is something else to worry of. It _had_ occurred to me, but I never thought it was so serious. A suicidal? Who has stopped him? Perhaps his… No. He is ashamed of her; I know that, though no one else does.

I've hurt so much without even realizing it. My own concerns have completely blocked out the thoughts of others. Even my mother. I strive to be kind as much as possible, but it just seems that we can never see eye to eye. She looks at me as if I'm a stranger, not her own child.

I search and find a deserted compartment. Settling in there, I think of my chances of sleep coming. Very little, but a chance is a chance. I block out the negative thoughts that plague my mind and close my brown eyes. Brown, so different from the turquoise I loved.

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She leaves me, and my eyes well up with tears. She is gone once again, without speaking. What has become of the Sierra we knew and loved? All her enthusiasm is dead. She is ashamed of herself, of being the Slytherin Ice Princess. It is a dark burden, but what can be so terrible about it? Maybe there is something she never told us. A small, but significant detail.

A ghost of her former self that is all I can think of her. The Queen has fallen, and we are ruled by something stronger than power and darker than death.

Fear.

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Time passes and Sierra sleeps soundly while Francesca makes her way back to the compartment, drying her tears. There awaits the ignorant of all that has happened within the period she was gone.

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My eyes slowly flutter open as I blink away the bright light shining down upon me from the ceiling. With a heavy sigh, I sit up and stare at the empty seat across from me.

I'm so alone. So afraid. Francesca troubles me. Her fiery will will most likely tear down my hiding in an attempt to restore peace. If only she knew. I'm hiding for more than one reason, and I highly doubt I can trust her with _this_ secret.

It's a dark life I live in, one without protection or care, only my will to stay alive.

Will. That is something we all possess though hardly use it. It is just a passing ability that no one thinks much of, but what's the point of using it? It will just betray us in the end. Like me. Like Michael.

_Michael._

He has some form of control over me, but I can't figure out what. Possession is not the answer; neither is the Imperious curse, but no… It can't be.

It must be wrong! It must be wrong! I was meant to love Draco not Michael. It has already begun, this curse, this prophecy, and I will fight against it if I have to die for it.

I will not be his love. I won't be his at all. I will fight to the end. I will kill him.

In a whisper, I repeat this. _"I will kill him."_

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"Where were you Francesca?" They bombard me with the same questions. _Where were you? Where were you?_

"I went to the lavatories." I speak calmly. My brother eyes me suspiciously, but then commences to tease me.

"Why do girls take so bloody long? Especially my sister. It's like she can do whatever she wants…"

I cut him off. "And you can't? You're my brother how can you have any less power than I do? That is my question."

"Touché."

"Gracias."

Cleo watches, barely holding back her giggling self. Very uncommon unless we mock fight and Sierra jokes around.

I mentally hit myself. Why must I think about her? She told me not to tell anyone, but imagine how happy they would all be. Especially Draco. Maybe his death wish won't come.

I wear a fake smile and sit upon the seat while turning to the window.

_Maybe his death wish won't come…_

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The call of Hagrid booms through Hogsmede Station and the first years cower some while the more experienced greet him. Well, at least the respectful greet him.

He calls out my name, but I pretend not to hear him. It's best if I don't speak to anyone right now. At least not until I am ready to face anyone.

At least I can isolate myself for a while, maybe no one will speak to me. It's not as if I'm giving off an aura of friendliness right now.

"You're Hermione right?" I guess I was wrong. As for the question, I wish I could scream out NO but that would attract attention now wouldn't it?

"Yes, I am actually."

"I'm sorry for Draco's behavior earlier. He's… troubled." Cleo, she speaks to me and my heart lifts. I haven't spoken to her like this ever before. It brings back happier days.

"It's alright. I've known him long enough not to expect anything better." I wave my hand in carelessness, but she is not satisfied.

"No. It's not alright. The way he treats you is terrible and I would like to start anew with you, all of us do. Meaning me, Blaise, Francesca, Matthew, Pansy, Daphne, and even Draco. We'd all like to make it up to you." A sincere smile and a slight pleading with her hazel eyes makes me give in.

"I would like that." She smiles wide and grasps my hand, pulling me into the crowd with her, through all the students, old and new.

Finally, she stops in front of a rather large carriage, probably an enlarging charm.

She puts one foot on the step leading towards the entrance and pauses to make a wave with her hand that says, 'come'. I oblige. With tentativeness, I climb on and peer inside to see the people of which we were just speaking. The Slytherins have a slight ashamed look in their eyes except for Draco. He stares at me curiously, as if he's just seen me for the first time.

The silence rings and no conversations are begun until Francesca decides to take over.

"What was your childhood like?" The smug smirk on her face as she crossed her arms, glaring at me triumphantly annoys me so. No matter. I have an answer for everything.

"Ordinary really, except for the fact that I was ignored mostly. I had one great friend, but after I came to Hogwarts, he rejected me and we never spoke again. I miss him, but I also want to avoid him. He was never a good influence, always bent on wanting to cause chaos. Mostly illegal things. He seemed to overpower me and it scared me. I decided to not try to revive our friendship again." Her violet eyes widen and she realizes part of my message. I'm speaking of Michael. He was my true first friend. I know that I call Matthew as such, but I lie. I pretend as if our relationship never happened in hopes that one day I'll wake up and forget that it ever did.

"You used to break the rules? I'll believe it when I see it." Blaise crosses his arms like Francesca. He wants to grab her attention. I can tell the way his eyes dart to her every now and then. Poor girl is clueless.

Silently I promise myself to bring them together. Just because my heart failed me doesn't mean it has to happen to them.

"Perhaps you won't have to see it. If you knew who I was then, you _would_ believe it."

Francesca stares at me with the question of 'What are you doing?'.

"Oh really?" Draco speaks and leans across towards me and pulls me towards him. "Are you so sure that I would believe it?" He breathes, his old self returning. I'm becoming dizzy. "You wouldn't do anything outside your comfort zone." It's a simple but meaningful challenge. I can feel Francesca's warning on my back.

"Really? What proof do you have?" Slowly, I kissed him and he responded. The feeling of completeness was so familiar but so alien. I hadn't experienced this since… Michael

The thought of him makes me pull away and the carriage slows to a stop.

The shock of all of this makes the tension build, Draco's grey eyes widen, and he falls into his abyss of depression once more.

As I jump out of the carriage and run towards the looming castle shrouded in shadows I can hear the whisper of, "That was so familiar."

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Is she an idiot? How could she do something so rational and… impulsive?

Oh, wait. She's Sierra. That's the basis of her personality.

"Are you alright?" Blaise asks him worriedly. He's his best friend and shall remain that way forever.

"No." Draco blinks away tears. "That reminded me so much of…"

The name hangs in the air.

Oh Sierra what have you done?

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Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Dean stare at me with concern. But Dean has something more in his eyes. Hunger? No. He's not like that. I've known him long enough, but then everyone believes I'm something the opposite of myself. Whom can you trust when you can't even trust yourself?

"Hermione…" Ginny whispers, placing her hand over mine. "Are you alright?" She's the only person who can read me so well besides my friends.

"I'm fine Ginny. Just a little shaken over what happened on the train." I'm not lying, but I'm not telling the truth either.

"Are you sure you have no idea who that was?" She observes me closely and under her stare, I feel naked.

"I'm positive Gin. It was just frightening. It's not every day when that happens." Ginny nods slowly in understanding, but you don't understand. No one understands.

"Hermione," Dean begins, softly resting his hand on mine, just like Ginny moments before. "I have something to ask you..."

"Miss Granger?" I turn around to see Francesca and the rest gathered behind Professor McGonagall. "I am to lead the others and you to your dormitory." I stand slowly, removing my hand from Dean's grasp. I look at him and he seems disgruntled and turns to glare at Draco. Is it because of the confrontation, or something else?

"I'll talk with you later, okay Dean?" His eyes tear away from his enemy and towards mine, where they soften and look at me lovingly.

"Of course, but I'm going with you."

"What?"

"I'm a prefect, remember?" He looks amused at my shocked expression and I shake it off quickly.

"Oh yes, sorry."

"It's perfectly fine." He raises my hand to his lips and brushes it lightly. It's such a simple gesture, but I know that it's familiar.

"Ahem." I draw my attention away to see Draco staring at us, one eyebrow raised. "They have left us." I see that he is correct. They're backs are seen leaving through the large oaken doors.

"Oh!" I gasp.

We hurry to catch up, Dean staying close by while Draco trails behind us. I can feel a stare of resentment on my neck, I think I know why. I can't believe I started this mess. Soon we are in the large group of Prefects, Heads, and new comers.

She leads us far away from the bustling antics of the hall and into a great tower where the stairs wind higher and higher.

The Professor I've come to respect stops us in front of a portrait of a girl, about 17 like us. She has ebony black hair and turquoise eyes… Like me. I cannot see the rest of her face though for a fan decorated with roses hides the rest of her face. Her silky voice is muffled as she speaks.

"You." She points a finger towards me. It's hardly seen under the long sleeves of her midnight blue dress. "What do you wish the password to be?" Everyone stares at me in questioning. They are confused as to why this portrait would single me out so easily.

"Ummm… I'm not so sure. What about, 'the curse of the midnight rose'?" I say it quickly. Francesca's eyes widen at my forwardness. The rose. My friend, my enemy.

"Very well. Do watch out for yourself, things aren't what they seem." Her familiar eyes flicker towards Dean and then she bends her head to one side in confusion. That is, I'm assuming. I can only see her eyes and they seem to show the emotion, but can paintings have emotions?

"This is where I leave you." Professor McGonagall snaps us out of our trance to announce this. "Do try to behave yourselves." She looks between Draco and Dean. I think she knows of their quarrel earlier. Some how they know everything, everything except the truth about me. I wish they did.

I _wish _they did.

**Author's Note:**

**Hello. I'm sorry for not updating for such a long while. I have school and it's beginning to pressure me more than ever. I need to do my homework right now as a matter of fact. I have a social life too and I have no inspirationg lately. I'll try to update sooner next time, but I can't guarantee anything.**

**Queen of Serpents,**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

I've been surrounded with elegance and finery since my birth and this dormitory is no exception. The colors of the four houses blend perfectly and it shows the pride of this academy.

"It's beautiful." Francesca was always known to voice her opinion of things she found attractive and she was never wrong. The fireplace glows with warmth and I find myself compelled to sit on the embers and let my worries burst into flame. To do such a thing would be foolish for all that would happen is that my body would disintegrate and the ghosts of my troubles would plague some other poor innocent soul.

The power fire has over me has scared me and made me do terrible things. Ice has never been able to overpower heat. All I can do is melt.

"…and so, the girls' rooms are up the stairs to the left and the boys' are to the right. Please cooperate with each other and have a good night." How much have I missed? Well, I guess I'll find out sooner or later.

"Well, I'm going to sleep now… How about coming with me Cleo?" Raphael, always the forward one.

Cleo just crosses her arms and says, "Hell no." She always enjoys turning him down, but I can tell from the amusement in her eyes that she doesn't resent him as much as she lets off.

I retreat from the group to start up the left hand staircase. I'm going to need to find everything on my own. "Wait! Hermione!" Dean… Why don't you just give up?

"Yes?" I dread seeing his face, so I turn slowly. Something about him scares me.

"Will you meet me in the Astronomy Tower?" I urge to say no, but my mouth won't let me. His eyes are so beautiful… Midnight blue. Why not say yes?

"Of course. What time?" Mmm….

"One-thirty would be perfect Sierra."

"Excuse me?" Not so beautiful anymore.

"Hermione, one-thirty. Are you okay?" His is cold against my cheek as he begins stroking it softly. Beautiful once more.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll see you then." He smiles and walks away. As soon as his eyes break away, I feel cold and empty. I need to see his eyes again. I need to...

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Sierra left. Perhaps she left for her room. It seemed that she was in a trance during Professor McGonagall's speech.

"Francesca, umm… I want to ask you something." Why does Blaise look so nervous? Ahh… well, I have to worry about Sierra right now.

"Sorry Blaise, I have to do something right now. Can you ask me later?"

"Yeah, sure." He looks kind of crestfallen. Hmm…

"Thanks!" I head towards the maple staircase and Dean walks past with a satisfied smirk on his face. How strange… Sierra stands at the top with a hungry look on her face. It's frightening. I've never seen her look like that before.

"Sierra, what's wrong?" She gazes at me as if for the first time. What did that Thomas boy do?

She recovers. "Nothing, I'm just, tired. I'll see you in the morning!" She turns to walk away, but I stop her.

"Do you even know where to go?"

Realization crosses her face. "Oh no, I don't." What is wrong with you Sierra, what is wrong with you?

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Time passes. I lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling. Francesca led me in here and made sure I was comfortable. She thinks there's something wrong with me. I don't feel any different. After I told her about my meeting with Dean, her and I argued. She doesn't think it wise, but it's not as if I have a choice. I need to see those eyes again. She doesn't understand that…

The clock on the wall says 1:15 I've been lying here for three hours. I need to get going…

The walls between Francesca's and my room are very thin. She made it that way. I decide to use the sneaking skills I was taught. The viper is quick, the viper is silent, the viper never gets caught.

Five minutes later, I find myself out of the dormitory, but as I close the portrait, the young woman hisses at me her opinions of my actions. "Don't do this. You will suffer the consequences…" Her turquoise eyes beg me not to leave, but I have to. I can't help it.

Up and up the floors. I don't know if I have control anymore. My mind tells me to stop, to go back, but I know I can't. I'm no longer in control. I never should have agreed to go, but I feel so lost without his eyes.

It's cold up here, the Astronomy Tower always is. I used to come up here to think, but now I'm here for a purpose that not even I know of.

"Dean? Are you in here?" My voice echoes, but it's not unheard.

"Who's Dean?" The cold emptiness has reached outside of my body now. I can see my silvery breath, same thing as… the train.

An arm around my waist, and I know I'm not safe. His face against my cheek and I don't feel comfortable. "There is no Dean… Sierra." His fangs graze my throat. "I'm hungry. I've been waiting for your blood. The queen can't remain without pain now can she?"

"I've never been without pain. Every moment I think of you I want to cry out in pain. Pain is not foreign Michael. It's not foreign." Strength in a difficult situation isn't foreign either.

"Fine. Ruin my moment of power. You trusted _Dean_ didn't you? I knew that he was familiar enough for you to agree, and the fact that he was so attractive to you. You needed to see his eyes didn't you. Well, here's news, those were mine." I realize that he is right. Dean's eyes are chocolate brown not the most beautiful shade of blue I have ever seen… No. It's happening again. The hot breath gives me chills and he takes a gentle bite that draws no blood, but I feel dirty.

"Why am I being affected by you? I'm not supposed to like you. I'm supposed to like…" I leave the name for him to know.

"Draco. You always liked him better, well, that is except for the time when you were mine. You know who kissed you first, who looked at you in that way. I am your first whether you like it or not _Sierra._" My name is always a whisper. Why a whisper? Why am I not fighting back? His grip is limp. "Don't even try it. I can run faster than you ever could, remember?"

He's right. "It doesn't matter, but that's not the point. Why am I here and where is Dean?"

He just laughs. "Don't you understand? Dean isn't _alive_. When you kissed him on the train, that wasn't him."

"No." No, no, no! That's not right! I feel myself crying.

"I'm sad to know that that hurts you so much." He's breathing deeply. Something's bothering him. He's hungry. He probably hasn't fed in a while. He was going to, but I distracted him, that, and he doesn't want to hurt me.

"I'm happy to hear that." I raise my hand and cup his neck. I can't see him because once more he's behind me.

"What are you doing?" He's getting uncomfortable like I was. I learned this long ago that you touch their neck, they want the blood more badly. This can be your ultimate demise Michael.

"Nothing." I take my hand away and put it on mine. The scent should attract him by now.

"You shouldn't do that. He's holding on me more tightly, but he's moved his face away. He doesn't want to risk it. "You could get hurt." His voice is getting stronger. "You know how that prophecy works right?"

I just nod. Of course I do!

"Do you know that the Vampire _has _to bite the Queen in order to make her his?" Oh crap. "Now you see."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Oh, yes it does." He releases me and I try to move but all I hear within myself is _No no no… _

"I thought you'd understand. I'm more powerful than I was when we were children. I could only get a bird to stop in flight and fall upon the streets. However, now I can make the human body entirely immobile." He stands in front of me. "You're not as pretty as a mudblood." He raises his hand. What is he doing? Oh god. I can't talk.

I feel the change going through me, my hair is longer and I've gotten taller. I feel other areas developing more. This _Hermione_ girl doesn't develop much, but it is known in my family for the women to do so very much. He notices this.

"Much better. Now you look the way you should. You're not a disgrace anymore. It'll be much easier to feed now."

"No." I can move my hands now, he's losing concentration I guess that transformation came in handy cause now all he can do is look at me. "No you won't."

"Why is that?"

My arms. "Because I don't want you." My whole torso can move.

"That doesn't mean anything, _I _want _you._" He comes forward and leans in towards my neck.

_NO! NO! NO! NO!_

He gets thrown back out the window of the stone tower. Oh my god. I lean out foolishly, but I have to see it for myself. He's at the bottom of the 50-foot tower, motionless. The shock is overwhelming.

I killed him. My heart feels as if it's going to burst. Empty, empty… All the blood goes to my head and all I see is a dark figure by the window.

**Author's Note: So there we go. I know, I know. **

**Reader: Why the fuck did it take so long?!!!**

**Me: No inspiration.**

**Anyways, I'm just going to finish the stories off one at a time. I'll try to write the 9th chapter as soon as possible. I'm really excited about this chapter. Hope you like it!**

**Read and Review:D**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:

I feel a warm, damp cloth being patted gently against my forehead. I keep my eyes tightly shut for I don't trust what I might see.

"What have you done to yourself?" A soft voice, Francesca. "I knew you shouldn't have gone. It was too dangerous. You're too damn curious for your own good." I'm sorry Francesca. I didn't mean to disappoint you, I didn't mean to kill, I don't know what my intentions were.

I might as well not pretend much longer. She can see through me more than any other can.

I slowly flutter my eyes open so as to feign a mask of weariness. "Francesca? What happened? Where am I?"

She sighs in relief. "Thank god your awake. Sierra, there's a problem with you concealment charm and I can't fix it."

Confusion. "What do you mean? There's nothing wrong with my concealment charm."

She shakes her head and gazes at the ground. "You don't get it. Sierra, there's not just something wrong with it, it no longer works."

"What?" I exclaim louder than I should. God I hope I'm in a place where no one can hear me.

"Shh! Quiet! If you don't believe me, look in your mirror." I whipped back the sheets and felt the suddenly freezing air encase me. So cold. I quickly pull back the sheets and hold them tightly in my balled fist. Why is it so cold?

"Oh, right. Shock. You're body is very low in temperature, but you're sweating like crazy."

And she is right. Although I feel as if I'm an ice sculpture, the sheets are damp with sweat.

"What's wrong with me?" I start to feel warmer and warmer, too hot. I push the sheets back and I lay on the bed, trying not to move in fear that my temperature will get hotter.

"I think there is some kind of curse on you. I'm sure that it's a bargain curse of some sort." Her violet eyes glaze over in deep thought.

"Bargain curse?"

"Yes, there's a more proper name for it, but I'm not sure what it is. Basically the curse is based on a bargain. You do one thing, it goes away. I have no idea what yours is based on, but I'm pretty sure that _you_ do know."

Eyes, emptiness, prophecy. A spinning world full of reasons and confusion. That's how my life always has been, but now it's even worse. My past is mixing with my present and my future. Sooner or later, there will be no future without the most dire consequences. Francesca's right, I do know, but I refuse to tell her. Though, I am pretty sure that she figured it out for herself. I need to ask something.

"How's Dean?" I sit up and I feel my curly hair draping over my shoulders. It's much lighter, but that's no good. That will not help his well-being.

"What are you talking about? He's fine. He's in his room. I only found you passed out in the Astronomy Tower. Your face was pained, I was afraid that something happened to you. I knew you'd be too stubborn to just stay in your room. I had to sneak you in since, apparently, a charm such as the concealment can be easily broken." Wait, Dean's fine? But Michael said he was dead, and I killed Michael… Wait, no I didn't. What the hell was I thinking? I couldn't possibly have killed him, he's immortal! Then why did I feel such pain last night? Wait.

"What about Draco? How's he?"

"He should be fine." She just looks at me in confusion. I would too. It is a strange question, but if Michael didn't die, then something else affected me.

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Few hours earlier:

_Draco,_

_Your time is limited. I gave you the opportunity of choice, but I'm afraid that you aren't mature enough to decide yet. Join us. We have much more power than you would ever believe and we are so much closer to conquering all. Join the class of kings Draco. Do not stay within that pathetic group that your mother chose._

_Lucius,_

He's right. My time _is _limited. I've been delaying it for too long. The wind flutters the window drapes and it draws my attention to the moon. Full and round. The same way it was during her death.

I'm not afraid t think of it anymore. What's the point of feeling so lost and alone over someone who cannot return. Even a Queen can't be revived from death.

I shake the heavy yellow envelope and a smaller letter falls out, in my mother's handwriting. She must have snuck it in. I hope father doesn't find out.

_Dear Draco,_

_Please do not listen to your father. You don't have to join him and his gang of petty criminals. I don't want you to be anything like him. I've received a letter from that lovely girl Francesca. She told me of your recent prejudice. At least, I believe recent. Please deplete this habit of yours at once. You must be nothing like Lucius._

_I have news of that boy that you despised so much. Michael right? He's been seen wandering around the Academy's grounds. I know that I shouldn't be telling you, but he wouldn't be there for no reason. Do not give up on your love of Sierra. A Queen can be brought back despite your beliefs. Look for her. In your heart and soul. You're still connected to her, even though you think not, you are. Just search. Please my son. Search._

_I must leave. Your father is returning._

_Love,_

_Mother_

Red. I've always hated the color red. The color of blood, the color of love, the color of anger. Michael has no business being around my land. I made it clear a long time ago that I owned this turf. He owns whatever pathetic turf he and his flock of flying beasts claimed. Sierra was meant to come here and she will not be disrespected like that.

"That bastard." Whispering isn't a good thing.

"THAT BASTARD!" Things fly about for a while. I don't feel human anymore.

"Draco? What are you doing?" Blaise.

Nothing.

"Stop!" He grasps my shoulder and immediately I calm down, but I feel weak. Everything seems black. Pain is an incredible thing. You can want it and fear it at the same time.

**Author's Note: Faster right? It hasn't been that long! A much better improvement from five months. Give me a little slack.**

**Reader: Why should I?**

**Me: Good point.**

**But, whatever. REVIEW!!!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:

Francesca finally leaves me as I begged her thousands of times. I may be weak, but my persistence is still strong. The women in my family _are _known for being stubborn.

"Very well then. Do not leave this room." Her eyes can be scary when she wants something. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes mother." She glares at me one last time.

"I mean it Sierra." With that, she leaves with a flourish out the door.

I look around the room and see an open window.

Of course you mean it Francesca.

I silently get up once more. A replay of the night before. This time however, I wouldn't make the same mistake. I know how to care for myself, and I know that I have the power in this domain.

I walk across the velvety carpet and approach the window. A slight breeze is coming in. It feels good. Empowering. The cold is powerful, especially when it comes to me.

I hoist myself into a position into which I am sitting on the windowsill.

I believe I've driven myself insane.

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Mmmm… Things have changed. Sierra is a fool. She doesn't understand how much she is needed. She is simple minded and though brilliant, she will never win this battle. The war is coming and there is much more than two sides, and much more than one evil. Be careful Sierra.

"You are no longer safe."

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_Wind is violent. Cold is blistering. The angels is poised with her arms stretched wide out. The angel is falling. Falling. Fast. Why isn't anyone helping her? Stopping it. Stop. Don't fall! DON' FALL!_

I shoot up like an arrow and begin sucking in short breaths. The silk sheets don't help the heat that is trapped in my body. My pale skin looks even lighter, almost transparent. My forehead is hot enough to make a numb person cry out in pain. That dream was terrible. The angel was so familiar though. I've been having enough of these dreams. They're just lies. There is no angel. No one is falling. No one is trying to kill themselves.

I hope.

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Author's Note:

I'm so sorry for the shortness. I have no inspiration there's something wrong with me lately. Well, I hope this will hold you up for a while longer! Please forgive!


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: This chapter will be partly held in third person for a reason.

Chapter 11:

A soft humming fill the vast halls of the Malfoy Mansion. Narcissa sighs deeply at the sound. Things have not changed at all. Her mind fills with the constant worry of her son. He is so vengeful, _like his father. _She loved Lucius, long ago when he didn't see the world as he does now.

"Mother?" Narcissa turns to see the only one who was flawless. Her angel. The light of her life.

"Yes Jasmine?" The grave look on her daughter's face was frightening. She was forever happy, unless she saw something she shouldn't have.

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Rushing wind. Cold. Calm. Danger has always been my high. I do things I shouldn't to prove that I am strong, that I can survive even myself.

That will be my downfall. The stone walkway approaches ever closer, faster than I ever expected. I shut my eyes and welcome it. Embrace it. A wistful smile crosses my face. Finally.

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Narcissa falls into a panic as her daughter's eyes loll backward and the girl collapses to the ground.

"No!" She runs to her daughter's side, lifting her head from the ground, and gently shaking her to bring her to life. "Jasmine. Please. Tell me what you saw."

The young girl's eyes snap open, the red irises showing intently. In a sweet voice, almost disturbing she speaks her last words. "You wouldn't hurt my dolly. Would you mommy?"

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_The morning after:_

Whispers of concern surround my form. I can feel their pain, their disappointment. I meant to hurt myself but succeeded in only causing pain in those I love. What is wrong with me? Is anything I do ever right?

A sharp intake of breath. I feel it. The symbol of my curse. The stabbing continues in my neck until I gather the common sense to _consider_ asking someone for assistance. I'm perfectly aware of my surroundings. Anyone who came up with a decision to commit suicide in Hogwarts (and survive) would immediately be sent to the Hospital Wing. It is only common sense. The wouldn't dare send me to St. Mungo's. Professor Dumbledore is to wise to let a scandal such as this reach the public eye.

It hurts again. An ongoing tennis match within my head confuses me so. Why is it that I can never make a decision? If I "awake" and ask for any type of help that would give away my position. My purpose in this world. That can never be known. Only those who are chosen may be allowed to even understand the importance of a simple secret such as that.

Not so simple when you are involved however.

I can hear the whispers more clearly now. They speak louder. They probably believe that no such sound will awake me now when I have remained unconscious for who knows how long.

"What shall we do Albus? Should we let the others know?" Professor McGonagall. Someone I have come to respect.

"No. It would cause too much confusion and pain. You say the person to find her was Francesca, the exchange student?"

She is more than an exchange student.

"Yes. She was concerned and somewhat angry. She frightened me somewhat. Her eyes can make you feel as if she sees this as only your fault."

Uncommon. Francesca can see right through your conscience. Right into the bowels of your very soul.

A dark chuckle. "Yes. She is one of the more… accusatory of the group. Does anyone else know of this?"

More than accusatory. More of a more than charming (at times) witch who can make you feel wonderful about telling the truth. Or her beauty can be used to her advantage with boys.

"No. What do you suggest we do? We can't announce suddenly that Ms. Granger has become someone new, and has been lying to us all these years."

Lie. I hate that word. It is the most commonly used word in my life. Lying. Lie. Liar. What has become of the always truthful Sierra? She's gone.

"We are going to have to announce Ms. Granger's death. This young girl will have to carry more than two identities on her back. Poor creature. She'll never have a life without worry. Now, I suggest, Minerva, that you fetch some chocolate from the kitchens, while Ms. Ventina here explains from the beginning how she came to be like this." Footsteps out the door and I know the Professor will take her time and have Albus tell her himself later.

I decide to "awake" not much worth hiding any longer with his all seeing eyes and his brilliant mind. I open my eyes slowly and wince at the sudden sunshine I see coming through the open window.

"I will gladly close the window Ms. Ventina, as soon as you tell me why this all began." His blue eyes twinkle in amusement and I know that he knows perfectly well why it all begun, but he knows in his heart that it would help a great deal for me to explain.

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The clattering of knives at dinner fill the Great Hall, as does gossip of Hermione's disappearance. Ron and Harry's eyes were tired, even though the day had not ended. They would never admit to the silent tears they had shed, but it was evident that they had occurred.

"Attention please." Albus Dumbledore stood. Many were confused as to why he would stand in the middle of dinner, but more were intrigued. "I am aware of the interest in Ms. Granger's disappearance from the school grounds." A pause to gather his will to lie. "She died early this morning, from a fall out her window. Do not mistake this as a purposeful action, no. She was a brilliant and happy student, but a simple mistake such as that, can cause so much pain." Pause. "Do not approach anyone," here he glances at Ron and Harry, "who you may think would have the answers. I'm afraid that they are suffering enough without people coming up to them and pestering them for answers they wish they had themselves." His accusing stare makes everyone look down at their plates in shame.

At the Slytherin table things are different. Draco hears everything Dumbledore says, but he can't believe that someone who could've been a friend or something more, died. _Am I EVER allowed at least a little joy in my life? The one thing I had that made me happy was taken away and now Gra-Hermione has been too?_

_This world may be cruel. This world may be vengeful._

_But so am I._

_**Author's Note: Yeah! I finally finished this chapter!!! Please Review!!! Don't be mad get glad!!!!**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Since many have been telling me to use P.O.V I will. I don't like how unprofessional it makes my piece look, but I'll do it for the sake of it not being **_**too**_** confusing. Muahahahahaha!**

Chapter Twelve:

A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet, but not in my case. A new identity, another life. It will be difficult and seemingly impossible to stay away from all the friends I have acquired. I shall have to start anew. Gain more trust. Gain back my dignity. Only someone weak would hide. Ask for the shelter of others just to stay alive.

I've ashamed my self. I've shamed my title. I've shamed my family.

I look up towards the window of the train. I've been sent home for a month or so. I can't just reappear after the death of someone so loved. It would be disrespectful and suspicious.

Sighing I finger the necklace given to me by Narcissa, my Secret Keeper. Ironic isn't it? The mother of my love knows the one secret that could break him.

My thoughts have always been complicated, but now a new life? Why should I have to pretend anymore? I'm mature enough to take care of myself. I don't care anymore. I've been through so much and to start over isn't worth it.

I grasp the necklace tighter. Anger is consuming me. Blinding me. I don't want to be a fool. Hiding. Caring only for myself. This must end… It will end now.

"_Michael." _I whisper._ "I'm here for you. Come for me. Come now." _My eyes shut tightly as I feel the train slowing. _"You want me. I'm willing to submit. I need you. I need your help."_

My grip gets harder. I feel like I'm going to break this delicate gift. Nothing can stop me.

My eyes snap open. I see the swirling of this dimension enclose upon me. It's beautiful yet dangerous how the darkness encases my form. My arms snap to my sides and I'm immobilized like before.. It's too late to turn back now.

If you can hear me Draco… _I'm sorry._

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**Draco's P.O.V.**

I retreated to this sanctuary yet again. The shrieking shack. The one shattered window with rags as curtains shows the moon. The last orb of hope that shines in my life.

I gaze down at my hands, burnt and shining from my practices. Strange how fire is my calm. Sierra was always fascinated with ice. The beauty of it. Like her. An angel carved from crystals so pure. My shoulders shake and the tears fall again. Here I can retreat and cry in peace.

Confusion has plagued me for so long. I kissed Granger… No longer Hermione in my eyes. She was simply a replacement, but the kiss was so similar to my angel's. My queen. I'm almost happy because of her death. She caused more problems than worth. Yes, she was pleasant to look at, but she could never replace the experience I had with Sierra.

A cold chill passes through and a gust of wind comes as my eagle owl flies to my outstretched arm where she perches. Falcon was the only gift I ever appreciated from my father. That was, until I discovered that it was meant for Jasmine but she wanted something better. She wanted a doll. A beautiful hand painted doll that Sierra fancied too. She might be older, but she was a child inside. Jasmine always said that Sierra looked like the porcelain creature. I grudgingly agreed, though I despise my younger sister. She has no heart yet she is favored for the power that she holds within her weak body.

My mother calls her the light of her life. I am merely the heir.

Falcon hoots softly and sticks out a leg. Attached is a simple letter rolled up to show it was written in haste.

_Draco,_

_I hope you receive this in time. Many things have been hidden from you over the years and I believe it's time to let you know of the truth. A charm has been placed on this note so that you will be immediately transported to Mrs. Ventina's household. Bring Falcon with you. Please be kind to your sister, she is ill and she holds useful information._

_Love,_

_Mother_

Be kind to my sister. Unlikely. "I promise nothing mother." At this, I feel myself pulled in behind my navel and I begin to hate the promptness of portkeys.

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**Sierra's P.O.V**

I feel silk. Fine silk. My arms are free to move once again and I raise them above my head and scrunch the silk in my hands. It has always been the best feeling in my opinion. How watery and free it is. Melted ice.

I am careful not to open my eyes because I _know_ that once I do, this happy feeling will disappear. I will be slapped in the face by cold reality, how harsh it is.

Tiredness begins to consume me, but I fear that if I fall under the spell of sleep I will wake up a different person.

I seem to always be hiding behind my eyes. Pretending to be unconscious, asleep, hiding my emotions. He won't believe it for long. He's not an idiot… Though I wish he was.

"Sierra…" A whisper, a surprisingly comforting one. "Wake up. I know your tricks."

The only way for me to sit up though, is to let go of the silk. I don't want to, it's to perfect.

"I see that you enjoy my sheets. Though I must recommend that you stop lying there, it's very difficult for me not to imagine." I can hear the smirk behind his smirk. The smirk that was so common among us.

I decide to take his word for it. I let go of the precious fabric and open my eyes. I see only the ceiling and its beautiful carvings of serpents. My friends. Using my arms as a lift, a sit up slowly, enjoying the feeling of his bed under my fingertips.

Then I see him across the room, lounging in black leather loveseat. His eyes, the blue I can never draw myself away from, they beckon me to him without a word. I slide across the four-poster, feeling my dress ride up to my thighs. My dress? I don't recall wearing one.

"Do you like your change of clothes?" He asks as I stand finally, after what seems like hours.

"I don't remember telling you that you had that liberty." I raise an eyebrow. We're eleven once again. My sarcasm, his forwardness.

"I just assumed." His eyes are always half closed, giving you the feeling that he is bored, when merely his attitude is just full of arrogance.

"You assume too many things."

"And you don't? How do you know that I won't help you with your little problem and keep you here for as long as I like?" He smiles superiorly. He has a point.

"Because I know you don't like things that are available to you without a fight."

"You still know me." His smile falters and his eyes begin to look hurt, but it soon disappears.

"How could I forget the person who tried to kill me?"

**Author's Note: And there you have it. A cliffhanger. A pretty decent length. And of course you better review. I am thankful for all the story alerts I have recieved and hope to recieve more. R&R!**

**thank you,**

**skittlez**


	13. Chapter 13

**Muhahaha!!!! Did you like the hanger from the last chapter? I'm trying to write this ASAP because I'm getting my obsession with Harry Potter back and all my inspirations is emerging. YAY!**

Chapter Thirteen:

**Draco's P.O.V**

The hardwood floors of the manor aren't a comfortable landing place but I suppose there is no better area in such a hurry. I have not urge to get up even though I'm face down. I believe I deserve to be here.

"Draco!" I can see a lilac cloak swishing towards me and I know it is my mother. Who else would have the chance to dress as elegantly in such a stressful situation. "Why are you still on the floor?" She pulls my hand and I have no choice but to hoist myself up from this strange position.

I stand and glance at my mother. She looks concerned for once. She never seems to care unless my father is involved. "Why did you call me here mother? I was perfectly happy moments ago." I have little respect for this woman.

"Draco!" I feel a blow to my stomach as 'the flawless one' pummels into me. Strange how a "sickly child" can accomplish the feat of knocking the wind out of me.

Mother gives me a warning glare to be nice to Jasmine, the light of my coffin.

"Draco! I'm glad you came! I saw something Draco! I saw something!" How sweet she is. How fake her love is. It's all a ploy to seem so innocent in front of my mother while in reality she's a little devil behind the walls.

She lifts her face and then I see her perfection. Why my mother would love her. She has a beautiful appearence and I'm sure that one day she'll have more power politically and physically than anyone known to wizard kind.

"Draco. We have something to tell you." Mother interrupts. I now notice the tired look upon her face. She seems to have aged.

"What is it?" Jasmine draws away and I see her gaze upon the ground, suddenly finding the floor fascinating.

"Well, how about Mrs. Ventina tell you." Then I see her. The mother of Sierra. They are strangely similar looking. Same eyes, same hair… same face.

"Will you please sit down Draco?" Ms. Ventina urges me. She looks sorrowful like she's killed someone…

I take a seat upon one of the many black leather couches in her sitting room. They smell of dust and secrets, like they did many years ago.

"Draco…" She pauses to sigh. Her hands tremble as she continues. "Sierra isn't dead… But she's gone missing."

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**Sierra's P.O.V**

"Yes… I do not deny it. I _did_ try to kill you." He shows no regret. He has no morals.

"Why though? What would give you the urge to kill me?" I feel tears fill my eyes. I've never been so betrayed.

"Come, sit here with me." I have an urge to shake my head, say no firmly, but I can't. If I want to get what I need from him, I'll need to play his stupid game.

I sit, trying to stay far away from him, but unsuccessfully. The loveseat is far too small for me to escape. He puts his arm around me and turns my face towards him.

"Sierra, jealousy is a powerful thing. Don't you see how this plan has yet to have failed?" He smirks satisfyingly.

"What do you mean?" Panic overrides me. No… It can't be.

"I knew that venom couldn't tarnish the Queen. It would merely make her more powerful, more delectable."

I remain silent as he leans in to me. There's nothing I could say in this situation.

"I knew that you eventually need me when you couldn't take the lies anymore." He breathed. "And now you're here, in my arms." He leans closer and… kisses me.

I want to pull away, but I can't. He pulls me closer and forces his tongue in my mouth. This has gone too far. I push him away and stand up. The look of fury on his face scares me more than anyone ever has.

"You can't leave Sierra. I'll make it so you don't have to hide anymore, but you can't resist me."

"Then I guess there's no deal." I try to apparate, but I find that whenever I try I feel like I've suffered a blow to the stomach. "What…" Breath. "Did…" Breath. "You…" Breath. "Do?" I struggle with words as I clutch my stomach, trying to numb the pain.

"I knew you would refuse, and like you said I love a good fight, but you didn't actually think I'd let you leave without getting what I want did you? You summoned the devil, there's no going back." He's right. "I'll take you to Hogwarts, you will go as Sierra and graduate as Sierra, you will spend time with your _love_. But listen here _Sierra,_ as soon as the war begins you _will_ come to _me, _and you _will_ fulfill the prophecy." He stands and comes closer to me. The scowl on his face frightens me. "Or every last thing you love shall be gone and you will _never, __**get it back. **_

The determined look in his eyes proves that he isn't bluffing. Here I am faced with a choice. Go to Hogwarts, be happy, and then… The consequences. So bittersweet selfishness is. It's poisoning my mind.

"And if I disagree?" I'm challenging him… A foolish move yet I simply _must_ find a second option, a loophole.

"If you don't agree, then I am afraid that you will stay here, and be mine." The predator and almost insane look in his eyes tell me that my stay here would be nothing less than miserable. He is clouded with perversion, nothing more, nothing less.

I answered painfully slow, almost scared that if I state the deal wrong I shall die and be sent to hell. Maybe I belong there.

He tells me of the catch. Of what I shall have to give up before the deal is made.

I solemnly agree.

The smirk on his face is something I wish never to see again as he kisses me, holds me. Fear is a terrible thing. All I can do is fear what is to come as I am led to the silk… One. Last. Time.

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**Draco's P.O.V**

The silence betrays me. The silence chokes me. But my fire frees me. I feel it growing in my hands.

"There's something you have to understand…"

I cut her off. "This is the sickest joke I've ever heard." My voice is nothing more than a whisper.

Sensing danger Jasmine approaches me. "Draco…" She puts her small hand over mine, trying to calm me down. "Don't be mad. I didn't know either." She doesn't understand.

"What is that supposed to mean to me? You never cared Jasmine! I know you hate me!" I feel my eyes water. "I know that you hated all of us! You think your better than me and yet you couldn't be more weaker!" Heaving breaths escape my body and the fire burns my skin once again.

Sierra would be horrified.

**There! Happy??? I updated waay faster than I usually do! Please R&R! Oh, and if anyone wants me to read one of their fics tell me! I'll be happy too! No rated M though okay? I like K - T!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen:

I feel dirty. I feel like a traitor. I awoke early this morning covered in only the accursed silk with Michael by my side, his bare chest heaving. He got what he wanted, what he craved, me. I stared at him for what seemed like forever. Here I still am, my gaze only for him, but not out of love... No. I gaze at him trying to understand his logic. Though he has very little. I crush the silk beneath my fingers for what seemed like the thousandth time. It reminds me so much of the dress I wore on the night of my 'death'. It was a simple gift from Matthew, a thank you, he told me, for my friendship that apparently, he treasured greatly.

His eyes open. The midnight blue that has entranced me many times before. I can see the spark in his eyes, fireworks going off in his brain. He's celebrating quietly, but not invisibly.

"My sweet angel." I feel his hand on my cheek and I close my eyes instantly. The terrible dew springs to my eyes, and I feel a single drop trail down my cheek. "Shhh... Don't cry. Nothing should taint such beauty." His thumb brushes it away.

This simple act. So much caring in it. It's like when we were children. When I would run to him to find comfort. He was my guardian.

'Why would Draco hurt me so much? I thought he was my friend...' Draco and I had fought once again. This time about his fire.

I ran and ran. I ran to the garden in the back of the Serpentine Family's headquarters. The roses who grew there were whispering to me. They told me of their secrets many times. All the secret meetings that Hervana disappeared to often were often held in the garden. The roses listened for me and shared the plots that she had. I clutched a handful of stems. The sharp thorns pierced my fingertips and a simple drop of blood trickles down my hand. 'I'm no better than Francesca.'

"Sierra?" I hear the unnaturally deep voice of Michael.

"Please. Leave. I don't want to talk about it..." No matter how I pleaded he still stayed and eventually kneeled to my side.

"Why are you bleeding?" I look away in shame, the drop had halted on my wrist. "You shouldn't do this to yourself Sierra." He raises my wrist to his mouth and sucks the blood. I should have seen the signs. His liking of blood. The answer was glaring in my face, but I didn't see it. Or I refused to see it. I loved him then.

"What happened to our childhood Michael?" The question I'd been wanting so badly to ask. The innocence. The love. Where did it all go?

His eyes shine with hurt. Something I haven't seen in years. "It died the day you did. Remember when Cleo predicted the war of those who once held trust? We all knew that she was never wrong. Our only hope was you, but I was blinded by hurt..." I've never seen him so emotional before and I have a deep urge to come closer to him, to touch his cheek, but I cannot. I'm afraid of getting to close to him. I'm afraid of making a mistake. "Please Sierra. I beg of you. Please stay with me. Don't go to Draco. He's hurt you more than I ever have..."

"But you tried to kill me, and that I can never forget." I shut my eyes as I feel the aching pain come over me once again. I have no urge to leave yet... Though I wish I did. It's a horrible thing to be held like a prisoner, but not to feel like one. I should feel so much worse. I should want to escape, but all I can do is curl into the comfort of the silk and cry myself to sleep.

Michael

She's shivering. She's crying. Everything I wish I hadn't done to her. I've done nothing but hurt her my whole life. I don't want to anymore, but how can I? I've come so close to this goal. So incredibly close. There's no backing out now.

She faces away from me. Turning her back on me, on her past life. Slowly, her body calms. I love her. I love her more than she knows. More than she'll ever know. If only she could understand. If only she could see... If only.

Draco

I feel it build more and more. But a small hand covers mind. A small, delicate hand. I gaze up into the violet orbs of Francesca. Concern reflects in her face. She knows of my pain. She understands.

"Draco. What are you doing?" I feel four pairs of eyes stare at me. Their expressions indiscernible to me because I refuse to know. I only look at Francesca.

"She's alive Francesca... SHE'S ALIVE!"

Francesca

I flinch at his obvious anger. Hurt reflects in the silver ocean. I want to tell him I knew, but would he hate me? He wants to hear my reassurance that it's all a lie. I feel his firm grip on my hands, a representation of our connection. Our strong friendship. His palms burn but I don't mind. That pain could not compare to the things I've caused myself before.

I can't lie to him. He'll find out. He'll hate me... Forever.

"Draco. I know she's alive. I found out on my own..." His expression changes. He pushes me away with such force that I'm cowering in his shadow on the floor.

"What." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. A statement of his fury. Of his fire. Of everything he's ever despised thrown against me.

I start tearing up. He doesn't understand what this does to me. What the memories do to me... My father. My father.

Insanity overcomes me. "No! Please please no! Daddy I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! AHHH!!"

Draco

Oh my god. She curls into a fetal position. Shaking and crying. How could I have done this to her? I never wanted to be this. I never did.

I can't move. I back away from the portrait of suffering before me. She was so beautiful, but so horribly in pain. I'm so sorry Francesca. I'm so sorry Sierra.

I turn around and run out the door, hearing the faint cries of Mrs. Ventina echo behind me. I won't turn back. I can't. The moor of the manor may stretch out for miles, but I will run until I can escape everything godforsaken memories that stay behind.

Sierra

My eyes flutter open and I'm greeted by the canopy once again. The detailing is beautiful. Every carve done with so much precision. Hmm... Am I jealous? Of course. Every rose, every leaf, every willow carved with perfect detail echoes off his own persona. Michael never was half done when it came to anything, Almost and obsession of his. Perfection. he cannot be distracted from any fault. No matter how small.

I laugh silently to myself. I have an unfortunate habit of observing things so as to distract myself from my surroundings. It may not seem like a problem, but on more than one occasion some bad event has befallen me because of my deep thought. These occasions only occurred during my... training. It's hard to think back to then. The great pressure. The horrific memories of everything. As a child I would wonder if it was all worth it in the end.

I should probably snap out of my cloud and into reality. Breathing deeply, I roll over to my side, facing him. His dark lashes shadow his cheeks. A beautiful vision of a man I daresay. I never denied myself of ignoring his unnatural beauty. Blaise was never like him. But Blaise was also never cursed like him.

A sudden urge strikes me to stroke his cheek. The smoothness reminds me of chocolate. His skin reminds me of chocolate. However, I resist. Why put myself through the torture that that simple touch would cause myself?

Not that it matters anymore. I've already committed the deed. It's too late.

A deep sigh escapes his lips and i gaze into his not open, blue eyes. They have been observing me as well.

Silence

"Sierra. Why must you leave me? You know that Draco has broken every promise you asked him to make." A fair point. But not convincing.

"He may have broken promises, but he is no murderer." A shine of amusement bestows in his hypnotizing orbs.

"A murderer is someone who killed another. I did not kill you..."

"But you robbed me my life." I feel my eyes narrowing. The hatred building inside of me. He will never understand.

Michael

I cannot look into those turquoise eyes without guilt creeping over my body. I want to avert away from her burning glare, but I don't know if this will be the last I will see it for a while.

Doesn't she understand it was the only way? All of this could've been prevented if she didn't desert me for another.

I'm not crazy, just hurt beyond repair. I don't care a lot for what she feels. She already killed me inside. Now she will understand what it feels like when everything you've ever wanted is handed to you and then it all gets taken away. Pulled out of your grasp. Everything.

I'm not crazy. Just disturbed.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Draco

I run farther than I know capable. Faster than I ever have. It's almost like this drive, this guilt that pushes me away from home. The high is incredible almost as incredible as when i let my fire loose. When I let everything go. I remember Sierra's disappointment in me when I did. She would stop at nothing to calm me down.

My feet pound on the earth beneath me. I urge for a little more speed. A little more time.

It feels like hours go by as I run. As I tire my body out. I eventually slow. I eventually walk. By now every muscle in my body aches and my heart beats so rapidly its not easy to breathe.

What am I doing? I look at my surroundings, and I'm alone... Who knows how far I've come, how far I have to go. The sun sets and the sky is red. My manor is a mere shadow in the distance. I'm alone. Again. I fall to my knees and lay on the lush grass surrounding me. For now, I sleep. I'll return, just not now.

Sierra:

I search strength within myself. I need to dig up he last of my dignity and pride. I just have too. A sensation creeps over my neck. A sign of trouble no doubt. Searching for me most likely.

A sigh escapes my lips. I haven't left the comfort of his bed, though Michael deserted it long ago, apparently getting bored of my absentmindedness.

I'm beginning to get bored myself.

So there he rests, on the musty love seat with a book clutched in hand, abidly reading. A favored hobby of his I recall vaguely. He escapes in his reading. "Retreats to his sanctuary" he once told me.

I need to leave. I must return to _my_ sanctuary once and for all.

"Michael." I call to him.

"Yes Sierra?" He raises his beautiful eyes to me.

"I'm ready to leave." I sit up and remove myself from the silk, blushing at my exposed body and at the hungry look in his eyes.

"Mmmhmm." He mumbles. "Very well, but don't forget _your_ end of the deal. Prophecies are meant to be fufilled.

"Yes. And eyes are meant to observe the _face_ of whom you're speaking too. "I raise my eyebrows and lift the sheets in an attempt to cover myself.

"I'm serious Sierra. You can't change your mind." How idiotic. Does he truly believe that I plan to return to him? That I will give up all I'm to gain, just for him? Ridiculous.

A dark chuckle erupts from his mouth. "I_ can_ change my mind." I whisper. "You know I could."

Darker laughs still. Why? "I _know_ that you can't." He sirks with accomplishment. I don't understand. "I'm very thoroughs when it comes to small detail. You may leave, but you'll come back. Like always."

Such fierce hatred I feel for this man. He cannot assume or be sure of nothing. Does he not know me? I charge at him and dive for his neck, the urge to strangle him growing as time passes.

"You so much ready for round 2?" I look at him questionably and notice how close his face is to mine. In my anger I had let go of the sheet and jumped on top of him with my hands around his neck. I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. How embararssing! Ugh!

"You're an idiot." I stand up trying to look dignified and disgusted at his offer.

"You know you want me." How cocky! Conceited! True! Wait... did I just? No. You're hearing things. In my own head? Shut up.

He watches my inner war amusedly. He's not _that_ stupid. Well, I hope to god that he is.

"I want to leave. Now." I cross my arms and glare at him. He simply rolls his eyes and I feel different all of a sudden. I glance down at my attire.

"Well?"

I look at him with suprise. He knew my favorite style.

"Are you stalking me?" What a stupid question.

"I did for a while." He grins, flashing white teeth at me. "Dean Thomas, the infatuated moron." He remains lounged in his chair, looking so incredibly perfect in that damned chair. God how I loathe him.

"Whatever." I tug on the end of my navy blue plaid skirt. Attempting to conceal more skin.

"You have nice legs. You shouldn't bother."

I stick out my tongue at him. Childish, but I have no othe way to express my feelings.

A sort of sadness washes over me. I want things to be like this, like before.

No. It's his fault for betraying us all.

But did he have a choice?

Forget it.

He glances at the grandfather clock. Seven o' clock. I fear that night has come already. "As much as I wish you to stay, I think that you need to leave." This isn't like him. "They'll come for you and your blood will be on my hands...again."

"How do I..?"

"You know how to apparate don't you?" He snapped at me! A nervous look graces his features.

"Obviously." I glare at the reflection of his attitude.

"Just leave!!" He darts up, fists clenched. His eyes sear into mine. A stare burned in my memory.

I vanish and apparate to the one place I can call home.

Malfoy Manor.

Draco

Drips drizzle lightly on my cheek and I open my eyes slowly. The dampness of the green around me leaves mud streaked across my trousers.

The gloom does nothing to brighten my mood. And as I raise myself off the ground and realice how disgustingly dirty I am. It's disgraceful. How could I ever let myself get likes this? I've let myself become something I swore I never would. She would hate me. I'm suprised that she doesn't hate me already. Well, I don't even know if she knows who I am anymore.

I give up. No. I can't. I love her. I start running again, but this time, I'm going home.

Sierra

My hands shake as I turn the brass knob. Breathing in deeply, I push open the heavy oak door.

The sight that greets my eyes is shocking, but if feels like...home.

A flash of black hair and I'm embraced by the arms of a petite yet strong girl.

"I thought I'd never see you like this again." I feel her tears mingle with my own. Francesca feels so warm and so welcoming I don't think I can ever let go, but I slowly start feeling her pull away.

"I'm so sorry. I begin to sbo and shiver as it racks my body. "I n-never mean to hurt you..."

"Shh..." She brushes a stray hair from my cheek. "No one blames you. We'll always love you." A small smile of reassurance, the best thing she can ever give me.

A loud echoing sound bangs throughout the room, bring my attention to my mother, Mrs. Malfoy, and her... daughter. Her. I remember something vaguely about her, but then...

"Sierra?" I gaze up and I lock eyes with him, my love, my life, Draco.

Draco

There she stands, her beauty outrageously consuming me. I cannot remember ever being in such a trance.

"Draco..." Her gentle footsteps prance across the room, and she's in my arms. She begins showering me with kisses all along my dirty face. Whispering words of love. Affection. And then, her lips crash down on mine. It's like a dance, the way her lips move and her tongue mingles with mine. I'm drowning in her scent of roses, her gentle touch. I regretfully pull away and say the words I've been wanting to say for so long.

"I'm sorry."


End file.

Harry Potter, Drama, Romance