Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Maslach 6

Hidden

Part 1: The Sun

"_Once, there was the sun, _

_Bright, and warm, and wonderful, _

_Shining like the love within my heart… -Thumbelina_

Prologue

"Well, Draco, aren't you going to say anything at all?" Dr. Gallows half-chuckled at the teenage boy sitting in the corner. Draco Malfoy, the heir to one of the biggest fortunes in the wizarding world, just stared blankly back, fiddling with the bandages on his arms. The good doctor sighed. He hadn't really expected an answer, not this early.

Chaos. That's how the doctor would describe the room he was in. Nothing was where it should have been. Everywhere he looked were broken dishes, clothes from the dismantled wardrobe, books with pages ripped out, bloody floorboard…you would almost think an enormous battle had been fought there. It was hard to believe one person could do so much damage. And yet, one had.

He sat on the edge of the rooms only unbroken furniture (the bed) and did what he always did at the beginning of a case with a very stubborn client: he simply began to talk.

He told the young man all about his life; how he'd never really wanted to be a healer when he grew up, he'd wanted to be an explorer; how he'd dreamed of traveling the world and finding new lands; how he had gone to Hogwarts and discovered the realm of the mind interested him more than anything could on earth; the story of how he met his wife and her untimely death. Young Mr. Malfoy didn't change his position the while time, but Dr. Gallows knew he was listening. They always did.

"Anyway, that's how I wound up here, sitting on this bed, talking to you. That's my story. Now, how about you return the favor, eh, Draco? What's your story?"

He still didn't say anything, didn't even turn to look at the doctor, but there was a change, somewhere. He had been trained to see it

"You know, your parents are very worried about you." He said, watching the blank face closely for any signs of guilt. "Worried enough to call me in. They told me that before this…incident, you hadn't been doing anything for days. Then all of the sudden, you just lost control. Do you think you can explain that to me?"

Silence as cold as the tomb, but he was starting to fidget.

"And I should let you know, I am aware of your families more…arcane dealings, so if it's something about that…"

The boy's entire face tensed, thinking hard. But still silence.

Dr. Gallows smiled kindly. "I see. You don't feel like talking just yet. All right, I'll take my leave of you. But I warn you, I plan to keep coming back." He stood up and took something out of his pocket. "Oh, one more thing. Your parents mentioned you haven't eaten anything for quite some time, so I took the liberty of…purloining this from the table. Our little secret, yes?"

He set the object on the floor in front of Draco. It was a shiny red apple. The young man sat up and stared at it.

The doctor smiled again, and turned to leave.

"Secret."

He whipped around, shocked. Draco had leaned forward and picked up the apple, staring at it intently, as if the answer to life, death, and infinity were written on it's skin. He then clutched it to his chest and started to cry, the broken room filling with broken sobs.

Dr. Gallows immediately rushed to his side. His mind was buzzing with both excitement and fear; he hadn't expected a breakthrough so soon. "Draco?" he whispered consolingly.

The boy looked up at him, tears still streaming down his face. "Secret. That's how this all went wrong. If we'd just been honest from the beginning, maybe everything would be all right now. Everything…all right…"

The doctor sat next to his charge, his concern showing all over his face. "If this…secret is bothering you this much, do you think you could tell me about…?"

"About her? Sir, I've wanted to tell someone about her for years, but no, too dangerous, no, my parents would kill me, and now it's too late, she may be gone and it's all my fault and there's nothing I can bloody do!" Howling like a madman, Draco leapt to his feet, jabbed his fingers under the bandages and ripped them off; Spellotape tore open the jagged cuts, dripping blood down his arms.

Using strength he'd never known he possessed, the horrified doctor grabbed Draco's bleeding wrists and pinned him against the wall. They struggled in silence, Draco screaming and writhing like a snake, and the doctor using every muscle to stop him from doing any more damage. Finally, when he could take no more, Dr. Gallows took a deep breath and screamed, "ENOUGH!" Startled, the monster went limp in his arms.

"Young man," said the doctor, panting, "I know you're upset, and I'm sorry. But I refused to let you leave this world just because of…whatever this is. Things can be better, for your whole family maybe, but nothing will happen unless you tell me about it." The boy stared at him, wide-eyed. "Now, I'm going to let go now, but you'll have to promise to stay calm, or by Merlin's most saggy Y-fronts, I'll slap you into next week!" The doctor tried to make his voice sound as stern as possible, but his stomach was quaking in it's boots.

The boy nodded. He let go.

Draco stared at him for a moment, and then, of all things, started to chuckle. Dr. Gallows, at this point emotionally worn-out, politely asked what was wrong.

"That's…that's exactly what River used to do. When I got angry like that. She'd knock me to the ground, sit on my chest, and swear she wouldn't let me up until I stopped behaving like a baboon!"

The doctor couldn't resist a chuckle of his own. Aside from having to pin his client to the wall like some sort of escaped convict, this was going remarkably well. "Is that her name? River?"

Draco nodded and leaned against the wall, sliding down it until he was back on the floor. "All right, sir, you got me. I'll tell you. But one condition."

"Name it."

"Please, don't tell my parents. I doubt they'd understand."

Dr. Gallows held up his hand. "You have my word."

The boy smiled, sat up straight, and sighed. "To understand how this all happened, I'll have to start at the beginning. All the way back to third year. I remember it very clearly. An apple began it, actually…"

Chapter 1

The crisp November air filled Draco's lungs as he lazed in the courtyard before lunch. Crabbe and Goyle were at his feet, each fuming silently; one was attempting to turn a mouse he had trapped into a goblet, while the other was slowly writing a letter home. Draco, however, had no reason to fret. So far, everything in his life was going just fine.

His arm was very nearly healed from the attack of the hypogriff in Care of Magical Creatures, and, if his father was right, the brute would be dead in a matter of months. With luck, he could use the injury to get out of doing homework for a couple more weeks. A resent letter from his mother with an update on the families financial status (payment for some kind of shady dealing had just come through, so he may get those new Quiddich robes after all). Other then that, nothing too pressing going on, just a perfect Saturday to laze around outside before it got too cold…

Suddenly, he eyes sharpened on a pair of first-years coming out from the covered hall. Ravenclaws, they were; their eyes fervently scanned thick textbooks as the mad their way to an unoccupied bench. Tiny, gangling, and obviously Mudbloods. He smiled. Well, there was another way to spend a perfect afternoon.

"Boys, look." He tapped Crabbe and Goyle on the shoulder and pointed. "Fresh meat." They grinned like the idiots they were and cracked their knuckles. All three stood and headed in for the kill.

"Hello, you lot." Flanked by the goons, Draco leaned down and closed the books on their fingers. They yelped and stared at him with terrified eyes. "Keeping up with your studies, are you? Well, I'll let you in on a little secret." He leaned even closer, smelling their filth. "It won't work. You'll never be as good as the purebloods; we've been stewing up magic since before your parents were thought up. So, why don't you just enjoy yourselves now and avoid the Christmas rush, eh?"

One, nearly in tears, nodded, but the other pulled out his wand. "Get out of our faces! We'll be ten times the wizards you ever hope to be!"

Draco's grin faded. He pulled his own wand from his pocket, turning it on the boys. "How dare you speak to me in that insolent tone, filth! You'll pay for that!" He raised the wand high, ready to curse them into oblivion. He swung it in a wide arch…

And was nearly knocked over by a small object that hit his wand arm just as the curse was fired. The spell discharged harmlessly into the air. Crabbe and Goyle helped him to his feet, all of them cursing. In the commotion, the targets of their attention had escaped, laughing their way down the hall.

Lying on the ground nearby was a shiny red apple.

Livid, Draco picked up the fruit and brandished it at the rest of the students in the courtyard. "Who threw this?" he shouted. "Show yourself, coward!"

Silence all around, as people wondered whether Draco Malfoy had gone mad. Then, a quiet mocking chuckle came from behind.

"I did. Care to make something of it?"

Draco turned to face his adversary, wand at the ready.

Three things registered immediately. One, it was a girl near his age; third year, or a tall second. Two, she was a Gryffindor. Three, the way she was glaring at them was more intimidating than even his father's sneers. He wand was not out, and her arms were crossed over her chest as if she didn't think she needed to. Something told him she didn't. He faltered a moment, then held his wand steady. No way he would be mock by a Gryffindor.

"Well, aren't you going to do something?" he shouted. The sound drew a crowd.

The girl pursed her lips. "No, i don't think so. And, by the way, your the one who's a coward."

"How so?"

The fire in her eyes burned brighter. "Don't make me laugh. Every day I see you picking on the little ones, the "Mudbloods", the freaks; people you seem to think are beneath you. But I must concur with that brave little thing you were trying to knock off; we may be different, but we're ten times stronger than you'll ever be."

Some one in the crowd actually started clapping. Draco's cheeks grew hot. "No one talks to me like that, especially not some Mudblood wench with a chip on her shoulder! _Stubifiey!" _The curse shot straight for the girl.

With an acrobatic flip, she launched herself right over the red bolt and hurled herself at Draco. Landing behind him, she swiftly grabbed him under the shoulders and threw her over her head into the nearby bushes, where he lay stunned. For someone that slight, she was certainly strong.

Crabbe and Goyle bellowed, running at her like bulls at a torero's red cape. She smiled, ducked low, and knocked out their knees as the ran past. They squealed and fell in a jumble on the ground. The crowd cheered.

By now, Draco had his wind back. Pulling himself out of the shrubbery, he crawled for his wand. She reached it first, however. Kicking it out of the way, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and lifted him up above her head. In spite of himself, Draco whimpered. At this point, he was sure she would kill him. The whole time, the same half-cocked smile had stayed on her face; it was like she was enjoying herself, yet abhorred violence inside. "Not so tough now, are we, handsome?" she whispered. She slammed his body into the ground. Something snapped, and the world went black.

By the time he woke up in the hospital wing, the story that Draco Malfoy and his goons had been beat to a pulp had circulated around the school. in the usual way of gossip at Hogwarts, the story had expanded the girl to the size of a truck with muscles like melons. The apparently unprovoked attack had ended with this monster dangling Draco's unconscious body from the clock tower, howling in triumph.

Truth was, no one quite knew what had happened to the girl. She seemed to have simply vanished the second Draco was down. As Apparating was impossible inside school grounds, and she hadn't appeared old enough to do that anyway, everyone was astounded as to how she did it. The students were captivated by exactly what she had gotten away with; the teachers were furious that no one would be punished. And so the Gryiffindor girl (as she was affectionately named) faded into the crowd contently, and with a point made not just to Draco, but all the school bullies.

Draco, of course, didn't know any of this. When he woke up, he knew that his arm was broken again, his face was bruised and his nose had been bleeding. And on the table next to his bed, shining in the light from the windows, was a red apple. A large, deliberate bite had been taken out of it.

His hands curled into fists.

**Hello! I would like to apologize to the 14 people who read this earlier. For some reason the end of the chapter failed to publish. Here is is now, and I hope the next chapter makes more sense! Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Hey! Sorry this took so long: I'm not the most techno-literate person and it's taken awhile to figure out how to post something new. Chapters will come much quicker now. Enjoy!**

Okay, he thought as he prowled the moonlit halls. Where in the world was the entrance to Gryffindor Tower? He had been searching the castle for the last few nights, and had actually found the entrance yesterday. However, the suit of armor he had used for a marker had moved during the night; he was now hopelessly lost in a dark, damp, and disused wing of the castle. As if the week could get any worse.

He leaned against the wall and sighed. At this point, there was no reason to try and find the girl. His best course of action would be to find something, anything, that looked familiar and use it to get back to the common room. Try again another night. He got off the wall and turned the corner.

SMACK!

He had slammed directly into what may have just been a suit of armor; but suits of armor didn't generally clank about the halls carrying textbooks. Tomes the size of pillows rained down on him and a squeal from their owner came from the other side of the wall.

"What the devil…what kind of hare-brained nose breather would be out here in the middle of the…?"

A face came around the wall. The voice stopped. Draco could do nothing but stare.

Her. Merlin's most saggy Y-fronts.

He pulled out his wand, and the head vanished. The sound of running footsteps went down the hall.

direction of the footsteps. "Don't just run off! I want to talk to you!"

He turned the corner and realized the only steps he could hear were his own. "Rats." He stood in the hall and listened. If he strained, he could almost hear breathing. Was he just hearing the wind in the glass panes, or was she still here?

He decided to take the chance. "Look," he said, slipping his wand into his pocket, "if you can hear me, I wasn't going to hurt you. I just…I just wanted to ask you why. Why you did it. There have been plenty of other times where I've picked on Mud…first-years and no one's said or done anything about it. Why you, and why then?" Silence. "I don't know, it's stupid…"

"It's not."

Draco whirled around. She was standing right behind him. How had she crept up without him noticing? "Are…are you a ghost?"

"No."

Light from the windows glittered down, enough for Draco to get his first coherent look at his adversary. She was certainly tall for a girl, with a slim and boney frame. Too boney, in fact. Her shoulder blades nearly poked holes in her shirt. Her muscles more than made up for that; he wondered how someone so thin could have acquired such strength. As for her face, it was just as slim as the rest of her (you could clearly see her cheekbones), but you could somehow tell that if she put a little meat on her bones, she would be strikingly beautiful. Her eyes were a hypnotizing shade of green-grey; her nose small and pointed; her mouth more of a thin chapped line. Her black hair ran in a simple braid down her back, each strand neat and in it's place. All in all, nothing about her was really extraordinary; so, why did her stare make him want to back whimpering into a corner?

She stepped forward until they were barely three feet from each other. Staring back at him listlessly, she tugged her braid forward and started playing with the tip. "To answer your question, Mr. Malfoy, I stood up because no one else did. If you don't remind a bully" she spat out the word as if it tasted sour "that the rest of humanity can be as tough as they are every once in a while, they'll get completely out of hand. Start going after everyone. And I think you've lost sight of how we're all wizards."

"If you're saying all wizards are equal, you're barking!" Draco shouted, starting to get angry again. "Pruebloods are far superior to half-breeds in every…"

"How?" she shouted, her tiny frame filling the corridor with sound. "Give me one good reason why purebloods and muggle-borns are so different, and I'll leave you alone for good!"

"Easy. They're…well, they're…" His mind was an utter blank. He stared at her helplessly, waiting for her eyes to vaporize him.

She smiled. "Thought so. There isn't a reason, is there?"

"Well, just because I can't think of it off the top of my head doesn't mean one doesn't exist!"

She rolled her eyes. "Men. Always so stubborn! So concerned with being correct all the time that they can't see past their won noses!"

"Wha…?"

"And you know what scares me more? You are the future of the wizarding world, Mr. Malfoy. One day, you will be leading us into the future, giving the values you hold so dear to your children and their children, polluting the world with bias you don't even fully understand!"

"Now, wait just a bloody…" But there was no stopping the spew of sentences issuing from her mouth. The rafters were starting to rain their dust on uncaring heads.

"You can't think! You can memorize every world that comes out of your textbooks but it will never prepare you to do what is right! To discover, to find things out for yourself, to question! Without that ability in people like you, the wizarding world is surely doomed. And with your limited abilities, what could you do anyway? I certainly hope your parents have a nice cushy job you didn't earn to force you into after you leave Hogwarts, because with your prejudice, boorishness, and lazy attitude, you are most unlikely to land a job anywhere else! Or did you expect to live off Mummy like a leech for the rest of your life?"

The resounding silence was broken only by the howl of wind though the broken panes. A storm was brewing in the clouds above the school.

No one, in the history of wizarding England, had ever dared to speak to a Malfoy with such open contempt. Draco was so shocked that his brain took minutes to put together a coherent rebuttal. And ever then, what finally came out was almost a pitiful whine. "Ha…Wha…Mi…Who…Who do you think you are?"

Before she could reply, a fain light appeared on the other end of the corridor. They whirled around. Silhouetted by the lantern light was Mr. Filch, the caretaker, and his horrid cat, Mrs. Norris. They could hear him mumbling as he hunted, "Students out of bed, my sweet, students yelling in the corridors. We'll find 'em, yes, we will…"

The girl cursed under her breath and ran to the wall. Under Draco's astonished gaze, she stuck her bare feet into the crevice in the wall made by the crumbling mortar and started pulling herself up the wall. Well, Draco thought, that explains how she gets around the school undetected, and why she's so strong.

She turned to look at him, looking like a spider caught running up the stall in a girl's toilet. That image was broken when she hissed, "Hide, you idiot!" and scrambled out of sight.

Despite the warning, Draco's brain had frozen. The corridor was a dead end, there was nowhere to hide, he couldn't climb after her, and Filch would round the corner any second. Sighing, he turned toward the light and held his head high, ready to face the nasty detentions the caretaker would no doubt insure he got.

"Wingadrium Leviosa!"

Without any other warning, Draco found himself hanging in the air twelve feet above the floor. The spell then turned him toward the wall and smacked him against the molding like a bug. He scrambled for a handhold on the crumbling stone, finally having to stick his fingers into cobweb-filled cracks nears the ceiling. Finding no purchase with his feet, he was forced to simply hang in the darkness like he was on a medieval rack.

Shuffling to his right made him turn his head. The girl was now hanging by one arm ear his ear. With her free hand, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders to his front, clamping her hand down on his mouth. "Stay still and silent, unless you want detention for the rest of the semester. I've got a plan, but if he sees you, we're through. Clear?"

She left without even waiting for confirmation, hopping down the side of the wall like some kind of demented frog, and leaving Draco to wonder why she was bothering to help him at all. Didn't she hate him, or something?

He glanced at the floor and saw with horror that Filch was directly beneath him. The caretaker sniffled wetly and raised his lamp higher, the yellow light coming up to just below Draco's shoes.

Well, Draco thought to himself, this is just great. Not only am I going to be bloody tanned by Snape, but I'm going to look like an idiot doing it. Instead of facing my punishment with my head high like a true Malfoy, I'll be found hanging from the ceiling covered in dust and cobwebs, whimpering like a…

Wait, that's not me.

A squeaky sobbing sound was coming from the far right side of the corridor. Filch's head snapped toward it. "Ha, got you!" he shrieked in triumph, closing in on that side.

But the sound was already gone, waiting for him at the other end of the hallway. Mrs. Norris hissed; Filch whirred around and stamped to the left, cursing wildly under his breath. But, as Draco knew from his spot on the ceiling, she wasn't there anymore.

This went on for a while; it was a truly absurd spectacle. After a few minutes, Draco had used the distractions to haul himself up to the ceiling beams for a better view. He had to admit she was making a good show of it; she even allowed Filch to glimpse her once or twice, resounding in a cackle of fury. But, he soon realized, she was stuck. She had no finale, no dramatic finish, certainly nothing that would make Filch go away. Did that mean the end was up to him? Musing over various schemes already churning in his brain, he looked out the windows where stormy midnight brewed, and heard the moans of the wind through the glass. And smiled.

As the girl scampered past on her next round, he motioned for her to join him on the center beam, and that he had an idea. She looked skeptical, but slipped up anyway.

Draco slipped off his necktie and unbuttoned the color of his shirt, much to the astonished gaze of his partner. He then undid the knot in the tie, redid it around his own neck, and knotted the longer end around the beam. The girl, who had of course figured it out by now, reached out to hold him on the beam, but it was too late. With a quick mock salute to his partner, Draco Malfoy took a deep breath and fell sideways, right in front of Filch's nose.

The resulting scream was heard a mile away by the threastral herd in the Forest, who perked up their ears and whinnied at the shrill sound.

It was lucky that Filch ran when he did. Draco wasn't sure how much longer he could have held his breath. With a laugh far too big for her tiny frame, the girl used her wand to slit his necktie, dropping him to the floor. She dropped down herself, squatting like a toad, and with no preamble they rolled with laughter on the cold stone floor.

"That…that was mean." She finally wheezed, sitting up and looking at Draco. "He'll probably never walk the castle alone again!"

"He has no choice, he's the caretaker." Draco sat up too, and picked up the strips of emerald silk. "The…the true calamity in this whole situation…is I have just ruined a two-Galleon necktie!"

Unable to stop, they laughed for what felt like blissful hours. When they finally had their wits about them, they stood up and just stared at each other.

"Well," said the girl, "for a spoiled, ego-centric parrot of a Slytherin…you're all right."

"Yeah." Draco felt just as astonished as she probably did. Was this really the same Gryffindor that had beaten him up in front of half the school? If you just stopped and looked, she was kind of…cool. "You too."

She smiled. For some reason, that simple gesture flooded Draco with warmth. "I…I really should be going." She said suddenly, and quickly turned down the hall to vanish.

"Wait!" Draco called. "I…I don't even know your name."

She blinked in surprise, and then shrugged. "Oh, all right. I know who you are, Draco Malfoy, so you can skip the formalities. My name is Ladybird River Dowel. My friends call me River. Or at least, they would, if I had any friends." She held out her hand to him. "Want to be the first?"

He eyed her hand suspiciously. "But…but the fight…"

She smiled a coy little half-smile. "Why, Mr. Malfoy, I have no idea what you're talking about."

He smiled and took her hand. Overhead, the storm broke.

**So, what do you think? Should do you want me to keep going, or is no one ever reading this? Reviews are lifeblood, my friends. Also, I am not J.K. Rowling, so I don't own Draco or anything else to do with the Harry Potter universe (except my own wand!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey ho, and happy Easter/spring! A quick shout-out to jack, my only reviewer thus far. The knowledge that someone out there is actually enjoying this has renewed my determination to write the entire story for you. If you liked the warm-up, you'll adore the main event. Enjoy!**

Chapter 3

_"So, you were friends?" Doctor Gallows said. _

_ Draco nodded. "I know it sounds mad. I think we knew that, even then. Slytherins and Gryffindors…it just doesn't work. By all rights, we should have gone on loathing each other in a healthy way, and that would have been the end of it. But no…"_

_ Silence for a few moments, then the doctor raised another question. "If your friendship was so mad, why did it continue? I'm assuming, of course, given you present condition…"_

_ "Oh, of course. Once we realized how much we actually had in common, there was no stopping it. See, River could have easily passed for any House if someone had asked. It was kind of odd. Bold as brass and more slippery than a snake when it came to getting out of trouble, but she was also studious and incredibly kind when she wanted to be. When we used to meet in her weird little storeroom…wait, I never told you about that, did I? She had this room in the wing where I met her, chock full of…_

…

"…everything and anything that I find interesting." River swept her arms out in a dramatic gesture. "Just my little hoard of treasures."

Little hoard was in the eye of the beholder. Draco had never seen such a collection of useless junk. The room they were in appeared to be a disused dining hall, or perhaps an old potions classroom, full of long wooden tables and low stools in various states of disrepair. River had taken over the more usable half, farthest from the doors, for herself. Piled on the sides of the room was just random thing: yarn, bolts of fabric, blue paper, books, a small wooden box, a container of raw meat…the list was endless. The middle table was equally sewn with open books, quills, diagrams, Muggle ruled packets and pencils, tools, and a straw summer hat. The mess almost looked like it had a life of it's own.

It certainly had plenty of eyes.

"What's with all the potatoes?" Draco said, picking one up. It looked just like an ordinary potato, except there appeared to be thick colored strings poking out of it, connected to a metal contraption with numbers and little arrows on it.

"That," River said, snatching the potato from his fingers, "is my latest project. A potato clock. See, potatoes generate their own little store of electric energy that can be used to power small devices if you hook it up with jumper cables…Oh, forgot, wizard. You don't even know what electricity is."

"Electricity? Isn't that what lighting is made of?"

"Correct, little pupil." River put the potato clock back on the table. "Muggles have figured out how to harness that energy and use it to power things. But they're quickly running out of fuel, so everyone worldwide is experimenting to see if they can find more in different places."

"Like, in potatoes?"

"Exactly. I'm trying to see, at the moment, if the energy in the potatoes can be stored in a battery. Um, battery…it's a little cylinder of metal used to store energy for different appliances. Like this." She put a small metal object in his hand.

Draco examined it. "This had lighting inside? Blimey, that's insane! I mean, to play with nature like that…"

"Well, that's Muggles for you. Trying to tame the whole planet, they are. Still, you can't blame them, really. It's hard for them, without magic."

Draco scrutinized her carefully. "Didn't you use to be a Muggle?"  
River quavered. "Yes, for most of my life."

Without any further comment she rushed across the room and grabbed a stack of posters in block lettering. "Want to help me hang these?" She then launched herself from the room, keeping in the devil-may-care character Draco had come to expect over the last few weeks. By not looking back, she gave the impression that she didn't care whether or not he was following her.

But she did. And he was.

As they walked, Draco noticed that between them they were only carrying four posters. He flipped the top one over and read:

The Projects Club

Are you an inventive thinker?

Do you like to figure out what works?

Research your forte?

Come to the bottom of the marble staircase after dinner

Saturday, November 15th

Bring warm clothes

"The Projects Club? Trying to start something?" He tried to keep his voice flat, but he was more than a little intrigued.

"Indeed. I know it's flat and generic, but I couldn't come up with a better name. If anyone actually shows up, we'll put it to a vote. What do you think? About the club, I mean, not the name."

"It's brilliant." Draco couldn't help but be impressed. Reaserch and invention were obviously her habits, but he certainly couldn't imagine starting a club about HIS interests. Too much work. "Where'd you get the idea?"

"From you, actually. When I realized how little you've actually been taught to use your brain, it made me think of all the other witches and wizards that are going to rule us one day. They need to learn to think as much as you do. We've got to get something in that brain of yours besides power-hunger and money before you leave here, right?"  
She had him in a headlock before he could react, twisting and turning to get loose. "Enough, enough. Someone will see, Riv." He finally shouted.

She looked fairly put out, but released him anyway. "I don't see why it matters if we're seen, but I will differ to your better judgment." She bowed to him sarcastically, then continued down the hall. "Anyway, you should come. If you're so worried about this being a secret and all, it would be a perfect way to justify spending time with me."

"I don't know. Granger will probably want to come, so she'll drag Weasley and Saint Potter after her…"

"Oh, stop! Harry Potter is a brave boy and a good man, a perfect gentlemen. Not unlike yourself, in fact. And Hermione's just darling. Always helps my with my essays when I get stuck. Really, I don't understand why you two hate each other; I'm quite similar to her in many ways."

"Yeah, but you're…"

River stopped walking in the middle of the hall and turned to face him. "I'm what?"

Draco was at a loss for words. All he could say for certain was, if given the choice between the company of Granger and River, he would pick River in a heartbeat. Now, all he had to do was figure out why. "You're…you're not afraid to take risks, just throw something out there and hope it'll work. Granger just hides behind her books all day."

River blushed. "Why, Mr. Malfoy! You actually gave a Mudblood a compliment! I may have taught you something yet. Now, these need to go on the common room bulletin boards. I'll get mine, and Ravenclaw since it's close by. Do you know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room?"

"Um…"

"Next to the kitchen doors. There's a picture of a badger. All you have to do is pet it. Don't get caught, okay?"

"Okay. Be safe."  
"Yeah. You too."

Draco headed down the corridor toward the marble staircase, tucking the posters under one arm. Before he got too far away, though, he heard a strange noise coming from back around the corner. Unless his ears were deceiving him, it was exactly like the sounds River had used to drive Filch mad when they had first met. Except now, they were real.

Staying as quiet as he could, he crept back to the corner and peeked around. River was leaning against the wall, posters for her breakthrough club abandoned at her feet. Her face was in her hands, which were leaking water, and her shoulders shook. She looked just as distraught as just minutes before she had been excited.

The sight made Draco's heart hurt, and he wanted to go over and make sure his friend was alright. But he didn't. River was always friendly and happy-go-lucky around him, but he never forgot that somewhere inside her was the angry little bully that had beaten him up, and he didn't want to risk that when their friendship was so new.

Careful not to make a sound, Draco slunk back down the hallway, his brain buzzing. What he had seen, however simple, was unsettling. River was tough, really tough; you had to be when everyone ignored you to the point of invisibility. For something to upset her that much…he was afraid to even know.

Still, he resolved as he walked, if he saw this happen again, for her own sake he should confront her about it. That's what friends are for. He was still nervous, though; she had been fine just a few seconds ago. The only person or thing she had come in contact with in that time was Draco himself. Which meant he was the problem.

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	4. Chapter 4

Maslach 6

**I'm back! And thank you to ToLazyToTry for loving this so much! it means a lot:)**

Chapter 4

November 15th dawned blustery and clod. The snow was already brushing up the sides of the wall, so the students had long since abandoned cutting through courtyards and sitting in the trees. The same courtyard where he had first met River now looked to Draco like a frozen winter scene on a cake from his mother's birthday party a few years back. Everything seemed so peaceful and serene.

When you looked outside, of course. Inside was another matter entirely.

He was back in River's cozy little hideaway, which wasn't nearly so cozy with 30 other students packed inside, chatting loudly and lounging on the tables. When these people had shown up at the marble staircase earlier, River had lead them up here, shouting at them to take notice of where they were going. She was no one's babysitter, she said. If you can't find your own way back, good luck making it to class on Monday.

Draco himself had put a lot of effort into looking disinterested in the proceedings. He was one of the last to show up, his hair sticking straight up and yawning as if he had just rolled out of bed. He had dragged Crabbe and Goyle along just for show; neither of them had showed even the slightest interest when the poster advertising the club "mysteriously" appeared on the bulletin board. At this moment, they were slumped in the corner, asleep. Draco sighed. Typical. No sense of purpose. At least he didn't really need them; there was no sign of Potter, Weasley, or Granger. Probably thought they were too good to grace it with their presence.

A complete contrast to the snoring lumps, River was spinning around the room like a whirling dervish, trying to calm everyone down. She had of course noticed him earlier, but only acknowledged him with a sly wink before moving on.

It had been agreed on by both that their friendship should remain secret. Rumors had a way of growing out of proportion at Hogwarts; if it was even insinuated that they were friends, perfect strangers would start patting them on the back and asking if they were planning a spring wedding. Draco had his own reasons, though. If the other Slytherins knew he was on speaking terms with a Gryffindor, he would be kicked out of the cliques and left to sleep outside in the dungeons. Worse, if his parents found out the new friend was a Mud…Muggle-born, he didn't even want to imagine how much trouble they would both be in. He knew River wouldn't suffer much at school (she was already invisible, right?), but his father's connections could make the rest of her life a living hell.

River stood up on top of the table and started waving her hands around to get attention. When that failed, she reached under the front of her robes to produce a long silver chain with a bunch of small things hanging off it. She selected a small shiny object and put it too her lips. By the time Draco realized it was a whistle, it was too late.

The shrill shriek caused everyone in the room to bend over and hold their ears. Grudgingly, they looked up at the strange little girl that had just pierced their eardrums with varying degrees of malice.

"Everyone all settled in? Excellent. Then let's begin. I'm River Dowel and this is the Projects Club. If this is news to you, you might want to consider leaving at this point."

No one moved. Either everyone knew why they were here, or those who didn't were already under River's spell. Draco knew from experience that she sometimes gave off this absolute feeling of …well, sunlight was the best word he had, that froze you in place. He'd only been around Riv for about a month, and he'd been frozen by light more times than he could count.

"All right." River clapped her hands together. "I should probably also say this, since several of you have already expressed some of your concerns. No, I am not a professor in disguise trying to egg you into doing your work. No, I will not be giving you homework. No, this isn't a study hall. Just a club. As for your concerns about yours truly, let me say this: I am a third-year, a Gryffindor, and a Muggle-born. If you have any objection to any of these things, I advise you to take this opportunity to leave the room."

Several older Slytherins in the back huffed and walked out, a newly awakened Crabbe and Goyle on their heels. Most gave River dirty looks as they walked by, and she returned their gaze with her own startling intensity. Draco shook his head at them before realizing he would have done the same a few weeks ago. Thanking the power that be for this change of heart, he looked back up at his new friend.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out!" she shouted after the retreating figures. She then jumped down from the table and faced her greatly reduced audience.

"Okay, then. For those of you that actually want to be here, welcome. I will start by explaining that I have no idea what we are going to do in her at all. That's right," she said over the groans and angry protests. "No idea. That, dear colleges in crime, is for you to decide."

"I decided to name this club the Projects Club because that is essentially what it is. A club where everyone is allowed to experiment, research, and discover answers to whatever questions press most heavily on your mind. It's really more of a learning experience. Because that, my friends, if the way the rest of the world works. You take what you learn and apply it. Try, fail, succeed. Nothing gets handed to you on a silver platter, and it's up to you and you alone to make sense of it all. Sure, you've got your friends and family, but when it really comes down to it, you're on your own." As she spoke, her voice became increasingly venomous and spiteful, until even Draco recoiled from the front of the room. As he'd also experienced, that sunlight had it's occasional eclipse.

Seeing the reaction of her classmates, River shook her head and smiled. "Sorry, I get carried away sometimes. That's why I hoped there was more people here who think the same way I do. This way I can have someone to vent at. All this is just as much your benefit too, of course. As I already touched on, you will be much better prepared for life after school then most of your classmates, especially the Neanderthals that just left, am I right?" The tension in the room broke as everyone laughed.

"Now, as to what we will actually do. You each will find a question that interests you and research it. If it's a problem, see if you can solve it. In groups or on your own, doesn't matter. It can be on practically anything you're interested in, or," she smiled coyly in Draco's direction, "anything that's interested in you. At the end of each month, each group or person will present what they have been working on these past meets to the rest of us. The others will ask questions and offer their impute. After that, it will be your choice whether to continue or find a different subject." The dragon smile returned. "If you choose not to present, I will assume you did nothing for a month but talk with your mates, and you can do that just as well outside of these walls. Catch that? Good."

"There will, of course, be some ground rules, because if there were no rules, I suspect many people would end up in the hospital wing, and not just those in here." After glancing scathingly at the remaining Slytherins, she waved her wand. A piece of chalk hovered above a chalkboard behind her that Draco had helped her "borrow" from the Defense Against the Dark Arts for today's meeting.

"Rule #1," the hovering chalk started to write, "I should warn you that this will be the most important rule, as I demonstrated earlier. You will leave your racism, bias, parentage, Houses, and social positions at the door. In other words, should I hear you belittling any student or their work based on these things, I will not invite you to return to our little club. We are all people here, and you WILL treat each other with respect and courtesy."

"Rule #2: this little club must remain within the confines of this room, because I'm quite sure that many of your experiment would…hm, how to put this lightly…be frowned upon by the professors. I should say, though, that stealing and experimentation with other students should be limited to the smallest amount nessacery. We don't want to start something that will get us in too much trouble or that we can't finish, so please be very careful. And absolutely no killing."

"And finally, Rule #3: be kind. The experiments and research of others, however odd it may seem to you, may be very important to them. It also may not work out they way they plan, just as yours could fail. Instead of insults, try to help them figure out what's wrong. That is the benefit of doing this as a group: support and a second opinion."

"Well, I think that covers just about everything. Any question? Things I haven't covered?"

A scrawny Hufflepuff raised his hand. "When will meetings be, mam?" he whispered.

"Oh yes, thank you. Official meetings will be every Saturday at this same time, but this room will always be open if you have a free period or want to get some work done. Anything else?"

No one spoke. It was like River's brazen attitude had stolen their voices. Or their wills.

"Okay then." River picked up the box full of textbooks they had collected from the library on the table, and slyly turned her gaze directly to Draco. "Come with me, then, and let's discover what in this world is truly impossible."

vvvvvv

"Great balls of everlasting fire!" Draco shrieked. "That was the most amazing thing I've ever heard!"

It was almost midnight, but the meeting had only adjourned half an hour ago. Not a single person had wanted to leave. Mostly all they'd done was read the books, but many people already had ideas, and a group in the corner had already started discussing plans to brew a memory-restoring potion. Draco had lingered until everyone else had left, presumable because he had fallen asleep in his chair, and was helping River tidy up.

River was back to her basically normal self. She smiled sheepishly. "Come on, I was shaking in my shoes."

"So? No one could have noticed. Riv, you were so confident! It was inspirational and informative but also terrifying in a good way. And what amazes me the most is that you can do that after people barely acknowledging that you exist for years. How did you do it?"

River blushed, reaching into her pockets and pulling out a long sheath of parchment. "A total of 18 hours practicing in front of a mirror. I'm really glad it went so well. If you don't get respect within five minutes of being in charge, odds are you'll never get it."

"You've defiantly got it, at least from me." Draco thumped his friend on the back. "You could be some kind of politician, or an Auror, easy."

"Thanks." She continued to smile radiantly as they shoved textbooks back into the box. "Does this mean you'll be staying? You really didn't look that into it."

"Of course I'm staying. This club was founded because of me; it would be a shame if I didn't get anything out of it."

She huffed. "Typical Slytherin arrogance." Quickly, she clamped a hand over her mouth. "Opps. I guess I really should practice what I preach." Sighing happily, she looked around her new clubhouse. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, I believe we're done for now. I'll see you…hey, what's wrong?" Draco's smile had faded when she said his name. He looked away from her, crossing his arms.

"I…I really don't like it when people call me by my last name."

River looked confused. "But everyone calls you that. Even your friends."

He huffed. "Everyone ignores you; that doesn't mean you like it. Every time someone calls me that, I think of my father. He was always 'Mr. Malfoy' while I'm just the little Master. He…he lords everything over me, never lets me make my own decisions…River, he runs my entire existence." Draco sat on the floor and hugged his knees. "I've never done a thing on my own. He even picks who I'm allowed to be friends with."

After a moment, River knelt next to him. He looked into her eyes, and saw the sympathy he'd always hated. But also something more: a flash of pain. Her own, not his. It was gone in a moment, but he was sure it had been there. "Riv," he whispered, "you're the first real friend I've ever had, one that I picked for myself because I liked them and not because they are pureblood and have money."

"That's…that's awful." River leaned against her hand, thinking hard. "My family…they've always been supportive, let me do what I wanted as long as it wasn't dangerous and I did my chores. To me, what you're describing sounds like prison."

"Yeah. You wouldn't survive in my house. I'm not even sure I'm surviving."

River looked back at him, one glistening tear dripping down her cheek. "Hey," she said, putting her hand on Draco's shoulder, "just because they tell you what to do doesn't give them license to tell you how to think. I guess being here will help you far more than the others. And from now on," she hugged him hard enough to crack a frozen soul, "to me, you're Draco."

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Harry Potter, Romance, Tragedy