Chapter One Pain flowered over her arm, a beautiful rose whose ethereal scent bloomed into her mind while it's red roots dug themselves down her arm over her hand. Jasmin closed her eyes and relished the feeling of pain that flooded her body and her mind, the stinging and burning and tingling in her arm. The feeling spread like ink into a damp cloth and Jasmin watched in awe the colours that rose like dawn behind her closed eyes. But too soon the pain faded, like a light in the fog of numbness. Grey mist filled her soul again and Jasmin opened her eyes again. She took up the blade she had put aside after her last cut and set it to her skin again, just a tiny distance from the freshest cut. Blood was still seeping out of that one, refilling the riverbeds the former drops had formed. The blade licked her skin with its ragged cold tongue and Jasmin slid it over her skin, the pressure too soft for the teeth to grip hold, tear open her arm. She lost herself in the sensation of the sharp edge against her soft defenceless skin, so far that she didn't hear the steps until the door to the bathroom was flung open and steps crashed onto the tiled floor. Jasmin froze. She had locked the cabin she was in, knowing the laughter she'd get as a girl cowering in the boy's bathroom, but nevertheless the fear of being discovered raced through her. Fear. Her nerves shuddered with tension as she sat quietly on the closed lid of the toilet, listening to the steps pacing the room, quickly. Jasmin listened to their rhythm, the unsteady beat of a nervous drum. Whoever had stormed into her little secluded hideout was uneasy, probably nervous. Jasmin listened closer and picked up his ragged breathing. Suppressed sobs seemed to force the air out of his lungs and Jasmin wondered how his legs kept up with the stressful pace when his lungs just barely seemed to keep up with supplying his body with the minimum amount of oxygen. He pushed the air out of his lungs irregularly, as if whispering to himself under his breath. Jasmin tried to catch the words, but they were too frantic, half-formed sounds left behind by racing thoughts. His mind was racing away, his mouth barely able follow with so little breath to spare. Jasmin couldn't tell what was causing the boy's distress, whether it was fear, sadness or stress, but she definitely knew that she was stuck here. Whatever was causing the boy to pace frantically up and down the bathroom, he did not want it to be discovered. So she clung to her legs, the knife in her hand and rested her head on her knees. She wanted to be alone, she wanted to continue.
Already the grey numbness was taking over, the pain from her arm fading to a soft throb that just blended in with nothingness that was taking over her mind. It was strange how the disturbed ragged rhythm of the boy’s panic was soothing her mind. She drowned in the grey nothingness, concentrating on the pain in her arm and the sobs of the boy, desperately trying to stay here, in the now. She tried to dig up the fear of being discovered here, the discomfort of the toilet below her, anything to keep her grounded in the situation. Right now was a very bad time to slip away. That was the reason she had come here in the first place, to fend off the looming darkness of the grey fog, and now that the pain was fading, so did her defences. Distracted from the boys panic by her own, Jasmin was sucked deeper and deeper into the dark nothingness that always dwelled at the bottom of her mind. She could feel her muscles, slacking, her eyes closing. The darkness always came, numbing her senses, stalling her mind. If froze her and dulled the colours from her eyes, so that the whole world was grey, night and day blending into one. She called it the darkness in her mind, but it was truly more like sleep. She sleepwalked through her life, sometimes for weeks at a time, until she would awake, wake, wake up, with only a faint memory of what had happened. She feared the darkness, feared how it took over her life, her mind. She did everything to stay awake, to keep feeling, keep the darkness at bay. In the past it had been following Malfoy around, torturing those below her with him, in his name. It appalled her, her caring side revulsed by the fear and pain she was causing, but that revulsion was something. She clung to that feeling like a lifeline. But in the last days, the feeling had slipped, and the mist had crept in. The clatter of the knife on the floor tore her out of her thoughts, out of the impending fall, the sharp sound hurting her ears. The steps froze, and Jasmin felt dread cling to her throat. Suddenly she was blasted backward as a bombarda flung the door of the cabin she was hiding in in her direction and she was thrown painfully off the toilet into the corner of the stall. Her back roared with pain and somewhere beneath the fire, thankfulness bloomed. The door lying on top of her was flung away and the contorted face of Draco Malfoy hid behind his wand. Anger and fear kneaded his face into a grimace as he recognized her. Once she had overcome the shock that the prince of Slytherin had been crying in a bathroom, she could sense his fear, his panic at what to do. She had witnessed him in a state he clearly wanted no-one to see, and she could practically see the threats to keep her quiet structuring in his mind. Not that he'd need to threaten her. There was no advantage she would gain by exposing her, she needed him to torture alongside him, needed him as a reason to feel something, even if it was self-hatred. But he didn't know that.
His eyes flickered to the blood running down her arm and she pressed her arm to her black robes, too late to hide it. His wand wavered, and she saw the realization flicker in his eyes. "I won't tell if you don't," she whispered, holding his gaze, trying to see whether he would go for the truce. If he told anyone about the blood, the cuts, the knife, or the scars, she'd be in trouble. They'd pick her out, talk to her, try to talk her out of it, try to make her understand. And nothing raised the darkness quicker than sitting in a room, talking. The fear on his face solidified to the familiar scowl that he wore everywhere. "You tell anyone, you're dead, Dissatin," he threatened, his wand now calm, pointed right at her. Jasmin made no effort to calm her fear and stared at him, digging her nails into her open bleeding arm. "I'll keep your secret, you keep mine," she repeated, trying to sound calm. But her voice quivered and pleaded. It seemed to give Malfoy back his confidence, seeing her tremble beneath him. "You better," he hissed, then he spun on his heels and stormed out of the bathroom. Jasmin stayed where she was, letting her gaze wander hectically over the rubble of the cabin she was lying in, feeling the dread course through her. Malfoy knew one of her darkest secrets. He knew of the blood and how she needed the pain to stay rooted in reality. She had to play nice now, or he could destroy her world. When she stood up and patted the dust off her robes, she feared Draco Malfoy. She'd have to thank him for that at some point.
Chapter Two Sitting down in the Great Hall the next morning, Jasmin had set her mind on thanking Malfoy. He wouldn't understand what for, but Jasmin had to vent the gratitude inside her to somewhere. The darkness had gone, completely, hadn't returned after him almost blasting her into pieces yesterday. She sat somewhere in the group of his followers, finding herself beside Zabini. A strange new enthusiasm struck her as she downed her breakfast, feeling like she had never tasted the sweetness of pumpkin juice or the salt of beacon before. Like always when she awoke, she felt like she had never lived before, like every second was a rebirth, and she shuddered when she thought of how close she had gotten to being down under again. She picked out Malfoy's silver hair in the crowd around her and watched him laugh with Pansy at two first years who were flushed red with embarrassment at having sat at the wrong table. Despite his usual arrogance and cruelty on display, Jasmin noticed the soft shadows beneath his eyes. She wondered where he had gone yesterday, after ensuring she wouldn't sell him out. She smiled at him when he looked over, a big grin telling everyone how much she enjoyed his mockery. She had practiced that in the mirror when she had first been pulled into his gang by Pansy and now it came almost frighteningly natural to her. She saw the suspicion in his gaze, noticed how his smirk never reached his eyes. He had seen her yesterday, had seen the blood and the knife. It didn't fit the picture she so carefully upheld, the portrait of a mean viper, weak, but words like blades, relishing the harm she did to others' souls. But unlike him, her mask was back in place, the stutter over. She knew her lines, knew the act and played her part once more. And Jasmin could see that he too was trying to be himself again, but something didn't quite succeed. She couldn't tell whether it was the subtle absence in his gaze or the forming shadows beneath his eyes. She was itching to ask what had caused his breakdown yesterday, but she knew better than to embarrass him so publicly and bit her tongue. Standing up with the others, Jasmin walked next to Pansy to the first class of the day. They filed into the classroom and sorted themselves into the pairs the two chairs at each table demanded. Since Zabini was clumsily fancying Pansy at the moment and none of the other houses were an option, Jasmin ended up sitting next to Malfoy. Not that she minded. Her attention was on Slughorn and his explanation of the potion they'd be working on for the next week. With the rest of the class, she opened her book on the designated page and began reading the instructions for
brewing the Draught of Flight. Malfoy beside her did the same but she could feel his eyes flickering over to her every few seconds and she doubted he would remember any of the instructions. Pansy and Zabini finished going through the four pages of instructions first and got up the get the ingredients from the table up front. Jasmin followed after a few seconds. Malfoy didn't follow her, so she had to walk thrice to get all the stuff they'd need to their table. He kept his head down, eyes hefted on the book, though Jasmin could tell by his blank stare that he wasn't reading anymore. She sat back down and pulled a Turgsroot to her and took out her knife to cut it into the needed thin slices. At the sight of the knife his head snapped over to her and Jasmin was uncomfortably aware of the wounds on her left arm. "Are you going to help?" It was an honest question, without annoyance or sarcasm. Jasmin had worked with Malfoy before and she knew that he rarely ever did anything. He much rather watched and taunted whoever in the class was making the greatest mistakes. She was used to it and didn't mind doing all the work and him doing nothing. Especially not now, with that strangely haunted look to his eyes. Something was wrong, and Jasmin knew better than to press that. Instead of answering, Malfoy mimicked her movement, pulling another root to him and started cutting the rough skin away with his knife. Taking up her own knife, she still felt Malfoys gaze on her as she quickly cut the root into slices so thin one could see through them. She was clearly skilled with the knife and she could tell that unsettled him. They worked quietly, Malfoy cutting away at whatever she handed him, her taking over the thinking part of the potion. By the end of the lesson, she had decided that he was in some sort of shock, albeit a well-hidden one. He teased the Granger girl when she was only the second one to finish after Potter and managed a pretty convincing sneer when Pansy and Zabini took over the teasing from then. When they had hexed the fires beneath their cauldrons to keep the temperature until tomorrow, Slughorn released them and they quickly fled the now hot room. As soon as they were out in the corridor, Malfoy vanished. Pansy and Zabini wandered off towards the common room and Jasmin quickly thought about following them. But she still had an essay for Snape to finish, and the Slytherin common room was not a good place to work. So she loosely held her books by her side and walked the other way, climbing the stairs to the seventh floor. Here she found a small niche where she set herself up and started working on her essay.
Somewhere into the sixth parchment roll, footsteps started sounding through the hall. Jasmin looked up, only to see a familiar figure approaching her. His eyes were so focused on the end of the corridor that he would have missed her, had she not seized a fit or courage. "Hey, Draco." His head snapped over to where she was sitting on the floor, ink, and parchment littering the small elevation she had been working on. "What are you doing here, Dissatin?" He scowled and spat the words out. Jasmin embraced her fear and focused on his eyes. "I wanted to thank you. For yesterday." "What?!" Anger was twisting his face and she knew that she had to talk fast to not anger him any further. "It's good you walked in on me. It stopped me from doing worse." She gestured towards her arm, the bandages hidden beneath her dark robes. "So, thanks for that." She could tell he was still confused, but at least the anger faded somewhat from his face. "Okay. Just don't tell anyone." Jasmin smiled and sighed. "Yeah, I know. I talk, I die. Don't worry, Draco. There's nothing I'd gain from hurting you like that. Not on the long term anyway." Seeing uncertainty once more crease his brow, Jasmin feared she had said too much. But he just looked away and started walking again, his steps quickly carrying him away from her as if she had never spoken up. It took a good hour before Jasmin could force her thoughts back to the essay about the Unforgivable Curses and by the time she finished, she had her wand behind her ear emitting light from a lumos charm to she could scribble down the last words with cramping fingers. Her hands were stained in ink, so she waited until all ink had dried before packing together. Taking her wand back into her hand, Jasmin slung her bag over her shoulder and wandered aimlessly down the hall Draco had gone. She still had an hour’s time before curfew, so she decided to get her body some movement. Wandering slowly down the hall she soon got lost in thoughts, memories of the last Christmas. The colours and smells wrapped her, her feet walking by themselves. She was listening to the soft tunes of the figurine of the angel with the harp, so enthralled she didn't hear the strides echoing in the empty stone hall until she turned the corner and ran into someone.
Reacting too slowly, Jasmin fell, pain coursing through her whole body as she tried to soften the fall with her hands. She winced in pain and pressed her hand to her body, knowing the feeling of broken bone well enough to recognize it immediately. Strangely enough, it was Draco she had, once more and now literally, run into. He kneeled down amidst her scattered books as she sat up against the wall, annoyance trying to hide the worry in his eyes. Jasmin knew what he was worried about. Pranks were one thing but breaking a student's bones was sure to get him in trouble, no matter how much Snape liked him. Jasmin cried out in pain when he grabbed her arm, his fingers roughly digging into the still open wounds from yesterday. She let her head fall back against the wall and she pinched her eyes close to control and relish the pain. She was so lost in the throbbing fire threatening her consciousness that she almost lost his whispered brackium emendo. She opened her eyes to a blue light from his wand engulfing her wrist, reflecting on his mask of concentration. The pain slowly dulled and Jasmin let out the breath she had been holding. His glance remained on her hand as she softly tried to move her fingers, succeeding to do so without pain. When she looked up, she saw him still staring at her arm, and she noticed that her sleeves had slipped up, revealing the white of the bandage stained with a few flowers of blood as some of the cuts had opened due to the fall. "Thank you. Again," she muttered, offering him a smile as he backed away and looked at her. There was something off about his look, a distress on his face that couldn't just come from having broken her wrist. But Jasmin knew better than to ask. She was thankful it had been Draco she had run into, his talent saving her an uncomfortable trip to the hospital wing. Together, they picked up her books and scrolls, and he watched her as she stuffed them into her bag. "Glad I ran into you, going to Madam Pomfrey would have been really awkward after yesterday." He flinched at the mention and she remembered how uneasy he was with her having witnessed his breakdown. It was strange to think he actually believed that she would use that against him. But the more she thought about it, the more reasonable his discomfort seemed. It was true that she didn't like hurting people, she didn't like causing pain. But hanging around with Draco and his gang had offered torture of younger students as a very reliable way to fend off the darkness. She had learned to be quick with her tongue, being sarcastic and brutally honest, cutting where it would hurt her victims most.
She remembered that Draco had never actually gotten to know her true self, the one she shielded behind sarcasm, an ever-present smile and a joy for pain. Of course, he'd fear that kind of information about him in her hands. They walked down the stairs to the dungeons in silence, Draco seemingly lost in thought. Before they got to the last flight of stairs, Jasmine stopped, Draco walking on, not noticing her no longer beside him. "Draco." Now he too stopped, a few steps below her, looking up at her clutching her books to her chest for safety. She caught his gaze and held it, trying to convey how much truth lay in her words. "You really don't have to worry about me talking. I know I'm a cruel bitch sometimes, but I won't do that to you. Like I said, there's no benefit in it for me. Also, if it comforts you; if you tell any of the teachers what you saw, I'll be in so much more trouble than you can imagine. If you don't tell anyone, I won't either." Draco nodded, his face a mask of Slytherin calculation. Then he simply turned and walked down to the portrait, gave the password and disappeared into the common room. Hoping she'd made her point clear, Jasmin followed him. They had never been close or even something someone could consider friends, but Jasmin needed his malicious schemes. Also, she found herself to have taken a liking to the boy. He was cruel and harsh and cold and arrogant, but Jasmin preferred his presence to her absence. Whether that was because she actually liked him or found him simply more amusing than the boredom of solitude, she couldn't tell. Jasmin followed her normal evenings routine, snickering with Pansy, although staying away from picking on younger Slytherins, unlike the past three days, and eventually going to bed beneath the green silks. However, unlike the other girls in the dormitory, she didn't sleep. Rather, when they were all asleep, she picked up a small bag from below her bed and snuck back down to the now deserted common room. Sitting by the fire to not have to create another light, Jasmin rolled up her sleeve. Her mother was a muggle doctor, so she knew the workings of the human body, and knew the importance of properly tending to wounds. There was probably a spell to heal them immediately, maybe even without scars, and she was sure Draco knew it, but she had never magically healed her cuts. Mostly because she couldn't show them to anyone, as they'd stare and worry and fuss about it. She got a new bandage and the disinfectant out of the bag and loosened the knot that held the bandage in place. She rolled the bandage off the wound, hissing quietly as the last of the cotton tore away the freshly formed crusts, causing the wounds to bleed
again. She drenched the dirty bandage in the disinfectant and winced as she started dabbing at the cuts. "Why did you do that?" Jasmin's head snapped up to see Draco watching her from a couch. He seemed to have been sitting here the whole time since she hadn't heard him come in, a book in his lap. Jasmin quickly patched together a lie and tried to put on that smile she always wore. She had noticed that that calmed most people. No matter what she told them, a smile was comforting, soothing. It was a friendly gesture that made the words accompanying it less threatening, less harsh. But the smile wouldn't come. Something about the darkness, the dying fire and the shadows beneath his eyes kept the smile away and her lie shattered. She couldn't tell him the truth, not him, Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin prince with the heart of frozen silver. He'd laugh and only forge that information into a blade to bury in her back. But she couldn't lie. Not after what he had seen. Not with the darkness hugging her, ready to soak up all her secrets. Not with him looking at her like that, having asked the question without accusation, without disgust. "Sometimes I need to feel the pain. It keeps me sane." She continued dabbing the alcohol onto her wounds, blowing at the icy liquid to help the blood clot. "Do you do it often?" Jasmin didn't look up to hide her surprise at the sliver of genuine care in his voice. She wondered why he would care about her. He was Draco Malfoy. His father was one of the most powerful wizards she knew, he was rich beyond bounds and had skill and talent only second to the Granger girl. His heart was cold and cruel. Why would he care for her? "More often than I'd like. It doesn't always work." "I haven't seen you go on mad rampages though. I think I would have noticed that," he commented drily. Jasmin chuckled and got a new gauze out of her little satchel. "It's not that kind of insanity. Nobody has ever noticed it, so don't worry Malfoy." She ripped open the gauze package with her teeth and wrestled the sterile white patch out of the packaging. "Any why are you still up? It's a bit late to be still studying, isn't it? Your brain won't learn without sleep." His gaze dropped to the book in his lap and he closed it, folding the edge of the page he had been reading.
"Yeah," he muttered, not answering her question. "Do you have any idea what to do for potions?" Slughorn had said they'd not be brewing the potion like it said in the book, but brewing a version with a slightly different effect in an attempt to get rid of the side effects. He had given them the homework of figuring out how to achieve this and Jasmin still hadn't given it any thought. Draco also shook his head. "Didn't have the time yet. I've got more important stuff to do than play nice with that idiot." Jasmin covered her disappointment at his sudden reversion back to his arrogance with her smile, that now came to her as easy as breathing. She nodded. "Okay. I'll work on it in the library tomorrow, in case you care to join." He nodded and got up, leaving to the boy's dormitory without another word. Jasmin sighed and hurried up wrapping the bandage around her arm. The common room felt strangely empty all of a sudden and she hurried to creep back into bed.
Chapter Three Jasmin heard of Katie Bell via rumours. She was sitting in the library, pondering over the biggest potions book she had been able to carry and had overheard a conversation between two Hufflepuffs whispering in hushed worried voices. Jasmin didn't exactly know Bell, but the incident sounded terrifying enough to have her worried. She listened closely to the two boys, hoping to catch any more information, but they just revolved around the same things again and again. "...floating in the air, he said her hair was all over the place." "I heard that she was screaming, but nobody could hear her." "She was bleeding out of her eyes, crying blood, I swear!" Madam Pince shot them a deadly look and they quickly fled the library. Jasmin huddled back over her book until she heard footsteps approaching her again. She looked up to see Draco approaching her, his appearance ragged by the harsh wind outside. She put up her smile, but he walked right past her, not even seeing her, sitting on her table right by his path. He vanished between two shelves in the poison section and rushed back out towards Madam Pince only a few moments later, four books in his arms. Intrigued by his odd behaviour Jasmin closed her own book and got up to follow him. She walked quietly and quickly, but she was no match for his frantic pace. She wondered what animated him to such panic. Strangely enough, she found herself worrying about Draco Malfoy. She was somewhat relieved at the sensation, it comforting the part of her that had feared for her compassion whenever she was pushing third years around or dropping first years' books into their kettles of potion. But she also found it strange that she was worried about a boy she hardly knew. And what she knew of him gave her every reason to attribute his panic to karma. No, not everything. Last week, she would have. But not anymore. Before, he had been a cruel arrogant boy who defined himself by the purity of his blood and the status of his father, abusing the power and friends he had to hurt others, satisfying himself on their agony. But that image of him had crumbled. Draco Malfoy could cry. He too ran to be alone so that nobody would see him break, revealing the black twisting troubles that pierced his soul. And just now, he hadn't been mischievous, followed by his henchmen to set up another prank, plotting to torture another soul. He had been alone, in panic, and afraid. It wasn't enough to have her running after him worrying her
heart sick. But it was enough to spark her curiosity and some of that compassion that had her resenting the colour of her tie. In the sixth floor, she lost him. With nobody around to ask, she let memory carry her to the seventh floor. Maybe yesterday had been a coincidence, but it was where she had last seen him, so she climbed the last flight of steps, the book becoming heavier and heavier every second. She leaned against a pillar on top of the staircase when she had finally conquered the last steps, catching her breath, then she moved on. She passed a boy and a girl fleeing the hallway, terrified expressions on their face. Jasmin guessed them to be fourth years and judging by the terror on their faces, she seemed to be going in the right direction. She slowed down when she heard rapid pacing as she came close to a classroom door. It was open, and she peeked inside. Draco was pacing up and down the length of the room one of the books in his hands. He was leafing through it, his eyes skimming the pages so fast Jasmin was sure he couldn't read a word. She guessed the fourth years had been making out inside the empty room when Draco had needed the hideout. She felt a little sorry, they must have had the scare of their life. She made no sound as she stepped inside the classroom. It was strange, her being here. She wasn't his friend, Pansy was the one that had been fussing over him, she should be here. But Jasmin couldn't leave. He had helped her, twice now. Time she repaid him. "If you're looking for something, you might want to try the index," she commented quietly. He jumped at hearing her voice, staring at her in a shock so grotesque it would have been comical, had it not been real. "Fuck off," he hissed once he had somewhat regained his composure, making a threatening move to his wand. Jasmin tried to stay cool, keeping up her smallest of smiles as protection while her heart was screaming in panic and terror. Draco's anger was not to be joked with. He had grown up in a household that accepted violent outbursts without punishment and even encouraged them when directed at inferiors. And despite having kept her heritage hidden successfully up to now, Jasmin couldn't help the fear climbing up her throat. Keeping calm, she ignored his pulled wand and put her book down in favour of one of his. A collection of fatal poisons. She read the title of the one beneath. 101 naturally occurring poisons in English wildlife. She held up the book she had picked up.
"I'd go with this one. The others are just poisonous berries and weeds, barely potent enough to kill a dog. You'd need to concentrate it a lot, and the school doesn't have the apparatus for that." Draco stared at her in disbelief and Jasmin felt a similar stare coming from her conscience. Relax, she told herself. This is a plan. We need to calm him down first, so he won't send us to the hospital wing. Then we can talk him out of killing people. She opened the book she was holding and ran her finger over the index, picking out the name she was familiar with and opened the appropriate page, exchanging the book from his shocked hands with the one she was holding. "Here, try that. It'll be hard to get around here, so you might have to wait for the holidays. Otherwise..." she continued, flipping through the book he had been holding, Flora and Fauna to avoid while hiking in northern Europe. "Look at that. You'd have to capture a Forforthus first, but there should be some in the forbidden forest. They're out of bounds, but I don't think that matters for a murder plot." His lip quivered, just the subtlest of movements Jasmin would have missed, had she not been staring at his lips for quite some time now. She snapped herself out of it and sat down on a table, making clear she was going to stay here with him, picking up her own book. She flew through the pages until she had discovered the index in the middle of the book and ran her finger over the finely written names of the potions. "You can also try a potion, though you'd need to tell me what exactly you need for me to help you there. If you just want someone out of the way, we can try a vanishing potion." "No," he croaked, apparently slowly recovering from his shock. "I need them dead." Jasmin looked up and studied his expression, unable to read it. She did, however, note that he was fighting hard to smooth it. She got up and walked over to the door to close it. When she turned it was to see terror in his eyes. He had taken a step forward and had a tight grip on his wand. He had thought she would leave. And everything inside her screamed to do so, burned to flee, but Jasmin just returned to her perch on the table and took the book back up. The index had moved again, so she flipped through the pages until she found the list of potions again. She didn't understand the sudden resolution to stay with Draco herself, especially when he was plotting murder, but something inside her, a voice coming from a long-ignored part of herself, told her it would be disastrous to leave him on his own now. The voice was softer, warmer and gentler than the one she displayed for everyone to see and Jasmin listened, maybe because that was the voice she longed to be. She wasn't cruel or wicked, didn't enjoy hurting people, not like she pretended to do. She just needed the kick. The adrenaline, the self-loathing, the guilt. She needed
it to stay awake. And right now, with Draco Malfoy shivering before, desperately trying to compose himself, staring at her like she was the newest ghost, she felt more awake than ever. "Okay," she continued softly when she found the index and spotted one of the potions she was looking for. "Try this one then. The Draught of the Screaming Mandrake. We'll need to smuggle a Mandrake from the Herbology gardens and some of the stuff we'll need to get outside of school, but it's nothing illegal, nothing we couldn't get our parents to mail." She had consciously made the decision to add herself to the brewing process. It was again that strange foreboding that terrible things would happen, should she leave him alone. Draco just continued to stare at her as if she had just grown a second head. "What the hell are you doing, Dissatin?" he hissed, his voice a little shaky. "Helping you," Jasmin answered softly. "You've helped me twice now, helped me a lot. I owe you." The cold logic of the Slytherin seemed to remind Draco of who he was, and he managed to smooth over his face, putting back on that mixture of boredom and disgust he had worn since the first year. It was slightly betrayed by the soft shadows beneath his eyes. "I don't need your help," he sneered and got his books together, seemingly getting ready to leave. Not showing how much his rejection stung, Jasmin closed her own book and hid behind a smile. "Sorry to have disturbed you then." She got up and walked towards the door before he could. "You can use my owl if you need to, you know, spreading the load to avert suspicion," she grinned and then fled the room. She wasn't exactly sure why her chest hurt as if a bludger had hit her and she wasn't going to let Malfoy see that he could have such an effect on her. She hadn't expected him to be nice to her, he wasn't nice to anyone, but she thought she had spotted a change in his normally cold and perfectly practiced behaviour. It was still curious how a few words could cut her so deeply, especially after all she had done. She had hurt other people for years now, words her main weapon. Strange how susceptible she was to her own blade. Back in the Slytherin common room, Jasmin accepted that she wasn't going to get any further with her potions book today and decided to spend the rest of the evening with something that would calm her racing thought. She picked up her knife and a little box, about the size of a shoebox and headed out to the courtyard where she found a little secluded bench and sat down. She opened the box and picked out one of the little pieces of wood that was beginning to take the
shape of a four-legged animal, carving at it with the knife, careful not to cut herself. The wounds on her left arm still hadn't healed, she couldn't afford herself a visit to Madame Pomfrey just yet. Jasmin had been working on her own set of wizard's chess for most of the last year and she was down to the last ten figures. The board had taken the longest, as she had refused to use magic on any of it. She enjoyed working with her hands, it took her mind off things. She was working on the second dark knight, both of which took the shape of a thestral. She had had to take all the reference from books and drawings of the few classmates that could see the creatures, not being able to see them herself. The white knights took the shapes of unicorns, and both of them were finished already. She was skilled with her knife and was carving out the soft folds in the thestral's wings with slow deliberate movements. While her hands worked, her mind raced. What the hell was Draco up to? Who did he need dead? Was it one of the students? Had his murder plots against Potter finally begun to take shape? No, he'd look happier about that. Should she tell someone? He was planning to kill someone, poison them! She had to tell someone! But she couldn't just sell him out like that either. Draco was the only reason she'd made it through the last two years, she couldn't just throw him on the scaffold like that. He might not be a friend, but he wasn't just some random person whose fate didn't concern her. No, she couldn't just rat him out, not after what she had done today. And if she sold him out, he would too. She had told him how dangerous the information he held was to her, she knew he wouldn't hesitate for the blink of an eye to use it, should she tell anyone. And that wasn't the only reason she decided against stopping Professor McGonagall as she stalked over the lawn. The look on his face when she had walked into the classroom haunted her. She had never seen anyone look so distraught, so utterly afraid. Especially not Draco Malfoy. He was cool and arrogant, taking after his father in everything. He wasn't supposed to be stressed or even panicking. What was he so worried about anyway? Eventually, when the light was starting to fade, and Jasmin was beginning to carve the ribs into the tiny thestral, her mind settled. Her thoughts began to fade until only concentration was left. But she soon had to leave that blissful state as both the sky and the clock agreed it was time to go to bed, curfew only being a few minutes away. Quickly Jasmin wrapped the little figure into one of the pieces of velvet that were waiting in the box and packed up, hurrying towards the dungeons to avoid getting in trouble. She slid into the common room with only two minutes to spare, something of which the portrait took notice after she gave the password. There were still many students hanging around the room, so
Jasmin joined in, picking a table brightly lit by the fire and took out her little figurine again, hoping to finish it tonight. "Be careful with that knife of yours, wouldn't want to have you cut yourself, Dissatin," a snarly voice came from behind her. Jasmin turned to find Malfoy standing behind her, Zabini and Pansy watching from behind him. Jasmin put up her cruelly soft smile with which she had veiled the poison of many of her words, letting the pain only sink in once she was gone. "Oh, I've found I can handle knives quite well. At least my Turgsroot doesn't look like Hagrid's face. And I'd rather worry about that greasy hair of yours. I hear fat burns exceptionally well." She pointed at the flames licking at the black brick surrounding it beside her. Malfoy's grin faltered a little and Pansy snickered quietly behind him. Picking up on his lack of a snarky response, Jasmin continued, the same cold tone in her voice as not to raise Pansy's suspicions and jealousy. "Talking about potions, can I speak to you for a second?" Not waiting for an answer, she took her stuff and retreated into a less populated corner of the common room. Slytherins were competitive, nobody would question Jasmin's reluctance to share any information that could help her classmates in public. To her surprise, Draco actually followed her, his expression guarded and not one bit in the mood for playful bantering, as soon as his back was turned to the rest of the Slytherins in the room. "What is it?" Jasmin found herself squirming into the corner, the familiar feeling of nervousness on the border to fear having her heart race. Draco stood taller than her, his cold eyes freezing her mind. He was anxious and stressed and therefore unpredictable, scaring her even more than usual. "Sorry for what I just said. Didn't mean it," she started, forcing herself to keep eye contact, wanting to make sure he got what she actually meant. She knew very well how quickly she could hurt someone, and she had that feeling that that was the last Draco needed right now. It struck her as strange how she suddenly cared for his needs. But then again, one could say she had always cared, considering how she had made her best to ensure he'd always come out on top in every argument, knowing the pain that came with a broken ego. "And about potions. I have got some ideas about what might work. If you don't have any, I'll refine those, so we can work on them next lesson." He scoffed and nodded. "Sure, whatever. I've got other things to worry about."
"Good. If you'll excuse me then. I have our potions grade to save." Jasmin noticed a soft flicker of panic at the mention of grades before Draco spun around to hasten to the boy's dormitory. She wondered if it had anything to do with his father. As much as Draco admired his father, Jasmin had learned pretty quickly that the feeling wasn't mutual. Draco had always been under a lot of pressure to do well in school, his father going as far as grounding him for the summer when he hadn't done as well as the Granger girl in the first year, a girl that pretty much had no life outside of books. During that summer, Jasmin had kept close contact with him via letters, hoping to ease both his and her boredom. Pushing her newfound worry about Draco Malfoy aside, Jasmin dropped onto the couch beside Pansy. She and Zabini were taking up pretty much no space at all with Pansy almost sitting on his lap. "What the hell was that about?" Pansy asked, her voice high-pitched and as annoying as ever. Jasmin had never liked Pansy's voice, but seeing that the girl was the first friend she had made back in the first year on the Hogwarts Express, she had put up with it, seeing it as a training of her nerves and her patience. "Just potions. If I'm going to do all the work, I'd like to know, you know, know what I'm dealing with." Pansy scoffed and looked at the spot where Draco had disappeared into the boy's dormitory. "It sometimes really pisses me off how Snape just waves him through while the rest of us have to work our asses off." Jasmin looked at her friend with raised eyebrows. Pansy had had a crush on Draco for as long as Jasmin had known her, in fact, Draco Malfoy had been their first topic of conversation back then in the Hogwarts Express. She was astonished at how quickly her friend had overcome her yearlong crush. But what she said was true. Sure, Snape always favoured Slytherins, but he had taken a special liking to Draco this year. "Yeah, it's a little unfair. But Draco has a lot to deal with right now, and I don't mind the work." She was used to taking twice the load while Draco leaned back, and for once, she didn't feel like she was doing something wrong with that. She usually either felt like she was cheating when she was better than him, pushing his grade or like she was taking the opportunity to learn from him by allowing him to slack off. But not this time. This time it felt as if she was taking a few ounces of a ton resting on his slim shoulders.
"Whatever floats your boat, girl. I know that I won't have him bossing me around anymore." With that Pansy stood up and started heading towards the staircase that lead down to the girl's dormitory. "You coming?" she asked back at Jasmin who jumped up to follow her. "Sure. Night Zabini," she added over her shoulder, making Pansy turn and blow him a kiss. "Goodnight Sugar," Pansy purred, before dragging Jasmin up to the dormitory.
Chapter Four The next day, Draco didn't come down for breakfast. At least not when Jasmin was in the great hall with Pansy and the others, but she didn't worry about it too much. Maybe he'd already been there before them or was still sleeping in, no need to fuss. Pansy sure didn't, Zabini getting all her attention. They were practically eating each other, and Jasmin's appetite soon dissolved. Excusing herself with some homework, of which she had a whole mountain, she grabbed her stuff and made her way to the second potions classroom Snape had allowed them to use for studying. She was a little surprised to find it empty except for Draco and a seventh year, considering everyone had as much homework as she had. She settled down on a table next to Draco who didn't even look up, completely absorbed by Confronting the Faceless. Putting her chess shoebox at the far end of the table as a reminder of her reward once she got done, she took out her books, quills, and parchment and got to work. Eventually, Draco beside her joined in and continued working on an essay Snape had demanded due tomorrow. Jasmine had already finished hers and was working on the final touches for the potion. She let out a quiet yawn that made the seventh-year hiss at her and stretched when she was finally done. She had pushed some things that weren't due until next week aside for tomorrow, knowing full well that she'd be here all night should she try to get on top of her homework today. She looked at the clock at the end of the room and saw that she still had an hour before her first lesson. Quickly, she got out her knife and the almost finished thestral and started working on the final details of the claws. "And what's that going to be once it's finished?" Draco had apparently also completed his homework and was watching her carve out the last claw. The seventh year let out a groan of furious frustration and slammed his book shut, storming out of the room. Jasmin put down the little figure and let him examine it. "The second black knight. I'm working on a chess set." Draco picked up the figure and inspected it. "Why aren't you carving it with your wand? With that little knife of yours, it'll take ages." Jasmin smiled and took out another little square of wood on which she had already drawn the outline of the king, a man in a suit of armour with a gigantic fantastical broadsword and two hounds by his side.
"That's kind of the point. It's meditative, at least for me. Helps me calm down and clear my mind a bit." "I could use some of that," he muttered and handed her back the figure which she wrapped in velvet. "I've been at it all last year, I'm almost done though. I have a few figures left, then I'll paint them, and the last thing is enchanting them." "Sounds like a lot of work." "It will be. Which is good, I won't have to go looking for a new project anytime soon." Draco sighed and leaned back in his chair. Jasmin noticed how exhausted he looked, the circles beneath his eyes carving themselves into his skin ever deeper. "Yeah, same here," he sighed. Jasmin looked up in interest and stopped carving away the rough edges. "What are you working on?" He glanced at her quickly, a somewhat panicked expression on his face, as if he'd already said too much. "I need to fix something by the end of the term and I'm not getting anywhere," he eventually said after what seemed like an eternity. Jasmin had thought he wouldn't answer her question at all. Her next question came very tentatively as if the words weren't quite sure where they were going as they tumbled out of her mouth. "Can I help you? Two heads can think of more than one," she added quickly after seeing the expression on his face. "You don't have to tell me what you need it for, whatever needs fixing. And I can trade you a secret, in case you want to blackmail me into silence." She smiled a little at that, not her usual smile with which she could hide and divert attention like a muggle magician, but a real, encouraging smile. Draco seemed to think about it. Him considering her offer already got her hopes up. He was a very talented wizard and rarely needed help with anything, but Jasmin was good at research, extracting information from books quickly and efficiently without having to plough through five hundred pages of introduction.
"I don't think blackmail could keep you quiet." Jasmin leaned her elbow on the table and turned to him, subconsciously flipping her knife. "And where would you get that idea?" "Considering the gravity that you said the things I know have, you seem very calm." Jasmin grinned and hid her racing heart. "Don't judge a book by its cover, Draco. You of all people should know how easy others are fooled into believing what they want to be true. And don't worry, I am utterly terrified of you." She knew the truth of the words was questioned by the smile on her face, but it was all she could do to keep talking. Because she was terrified. His cold grey eyes had always scared her, and they had not lost that effect now. She knew he was nervous, something was pushing him ever further towards the edge of breaking. He was afraid of something, and people who were afraid were unpredictable. And Jasmin knew he wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if it would get him where he needed to be. No, Draco Malfoy scared her, he always had. "You spend a lot of time with me for someone who's afraid," he commented, the playful tone had gone from his voice. He still had that superior smirk on his face, but his eyes were cold and serious. Jasmin suppressed a shudder. "Yeah, that undermines me a bit, doesn't it.�? She didn't continue, didn't give him the information he so clearly was asking for. She didn't need him to know of the emptiness inside her, didn't need him to shy away too. She knew what impact the truth had on people, how they reacted when you were different, strange, off. And for some reason, she didn't want Draco to back off. She was terrified of him, afraid what he could do, of all the different ways he could make her life hell, but she didn't want him to leave anyway. "Maybe I just like the way you look when I beat you in every argument we ever had," she offered, a smug smile on her lips. "And maybe Dragons feed off cotton candy," he answered. His face too melted into a smile, but not the cruel grin he usually wore, but an actual playful smile. Jasmin found that she liked it, maybe more than she'd admit herself. Jasmin chuckled quietly and took her knife again to continue carving. "So, what'cha say? My help and a secret of mine to keep me quiet." The smile slid off his face and he cocked his head slightly, aiding its fall.
"What do you get out of that anyway? Why would you want to help me?" Jasmin shrugged, not exactly knowing the answer herself. "I like helping." Draco laughed coldly at that and shocked her a sceptical look. "Yeah, I know. A Slytherin that likes helping, funny joke, ha-ha. But it's true. Being a Slytherin doesn't mean you have to be a pest. It just means you're ambitious," she defended herself. Draco looked at her thoughtfully while she started carving out the helmet of the king. "You just don't act the part, that's all I'm saying." Jasmine sighed. "I know. I hate that." When she looked up, she found Draco staring at her with curiosity. When he met her gaze, he quickly looked away and started packing together. "Yeah, we should get going. Snape is already pissed enough," Jasmin mumbled after a look on the clock. They walked to Defence Against the Dark Arts together in silence. Jasmin noticed how he still hadn't given her an answer, but now with Pansy, Zabini, Goyle and the others surrounding them, the chance had passed. *** Snape was indeed slightly annoyed with their continuing failure to cast nonverbal spells, having Draco, the only one of them that had been able to manage it, demonstrate in front of the class when his anger boiled to the surface. Draco strode to the front of the class with the usual confidence. The whole class stopped to watch, and silence settled between them as Draco opposed the black robed professor. They both raised their wands to their faces, then spells started flying. Not a sound was made, only the whizzing of the spells through the air and the sizzling, when they were deflected, reached their ears. The class watched the silent demonstration in awe, Jasmin drawn in by the look of fierce concentration on Draco's face. "Enough," Snape said and Draco lowered his wand, his face losing some of the tension it had held. He grinned at Jasmin and the group of Slytherins around her when he walked back while Snape lectured them about the importance of this skill. Transfiguration after that was just as dull, Draco imitating his usual pompous self, apparently only Jasmin noticing the exhaustion that seemed to follow his every move. At lunch, her owl Knop flew in and dropped an array of letters and the newest copy of the Daily Prophet next to her table
and then exhaustedly set off towards the owlery. One of the letters was a postcard from a Caribbean island, which explained Knop's tardiness. Having no more lessons that day, Jasmin snatched her letters and the newspaper as well as her bag and went back to the classroom she had worked in earlier. Draco wasn't there, seeing that he had Transfiguration where she had Charms, which she was thankful for. She'd be getting more work done with him not around, seeing her spiked interest in him over the last few days. She got to work on the assignments closest due and eventually actually caught up to all but the newest tasks, which wouldn't be due until next week. Massaging her cramping hand, she put her quill down after finishing the last essay for Charms. Her eyes fled over to the letters, but she grabbed the newspaper first, stuffing the letters quickly into her robes as Pansy entered the classroom. Jasmin smiled and waved, and Pansy let out an overdramatic exhausted huff as she dropped onto the chair next to her. "Trelawney is killing me, really. I think I'm going to set those fucking curtains on fire sometime soon!" she hissed and several other students in the room shot her angry glares. Jasmin used the opportunity to lay a finger to her lips, indicating her friend to be quiet. Pansy grudgingly complied, tearing out her Divination book and a star chart, setting to work. But Jasmin still didn't get to read her paper in peace as another Slytherin girl entered the room, picking out a classmate of hers and started screaming about some missing books and quills. With a meaningful glance, Pansy and Jasmin got up and fled the room that was now in commotion, heading towards the Slytherin dungeons. She stuffed the paper into her bag and had forgotten it over Pansy's babbling by the time they were in the common room. Picking her way across the room towards the few students that were actually working, Jasmin forced Pansy to work by ignoring her over the blank piece of parchment she had just pulled out. Sometimes Jasmin felt like her whole life was centred around the darkness inside her, or mostly around the battle against it. She lost often enough as fighting it off required a strength that sometimes failed her. The reasons were always different, the situations in which the darkness overcame her never the same, but Jasmin still kept record on them, in case there might just be a pattern. She also made sure to note down the thing that she thought had awoken her, hoping to seek it out whenever the next fit of fog came too close. It had rarely worked, but anything at all, any sliver of control over the grey mist that ruled her life was worth the effort. So Jasmin took out her quill and ink and started. She knew herself that her way of recordkeeping was odd, but it kept her engaged when she wrote and read it, kept her awake.
Draco, you kept me awake. Usually, this starts with "you woke me up" and I was so close this time. The pain was fading so fucking quick and when you came into the bathroom and I had to stop, it came up and I almost lost it. I was almost gone, lost hold of the knife, and you blasted the bloody door right in my face. I think it's more correct to say the pain of being blasted around the cabin woke me up, kept me there, but you blasted me through the stall, so I'll allow you the glory. It started at breakfast. I was early and alone. I thought the silence and the cool air might freshen me up, but I was wrong. Sooner than later, I was spiralling away, losing it. I ran to the bathroom, the first one I found and locked myself in. The knife's always with me, in case you were wondering where I got that from. You're not. You'll never read this. This isn't a letter. It's a record. Strange that I need these to keep sane. Is it odd that somehow, I do want you to read this? I somehow want to tell you. Make you understand. Bullshit. I never wanted anyone to understand, nobody can. You wouldn't, and even if, you'd just run off, laugh with Pansy, or to Snape and tell him all about it. No, I can't have you read this. It's a record. For me. This format is just to make it easier. It was no different this time. I was trying to concentrate on the pain, on your pacing steps, on the toilet beneath me, on your ragged breathing. Didn't help much. I had my head on my knees, and it was just there. I could feel the bottom of my soul numbing and it was already clouding the stem of my brain. My body was going slack like it always does, and the knife fell from my hand. And you just blasted the door. I don't think I'll ever be more thankful for someone using a bombada on me. I don't think I thanked you yet. I don't think I can without spilling the beans and I'll eat a broomstick before I tell Draco fucking Malf oy about how messed up my brain is. I could just blackmail myself then, that's just as easy and saves you the effort. But thank you, Draco. You have no idea what you saved me from. If you had, you wouldn't think it so strange how I'm trying to make up for it. Also, I think something is going on with you. I know you won't tell me, I don't even think I want you to, but I'll try to be there for you. I have that feeling that you shouldn't be alone, not right now. You were there for me when I needed it
, even if you didn't know, and I'll try the same for you. Let's see how you take it. Just try not to be mad at me, okay? It's strange how vulnerable I've become around you, and, with no smile there to protect me, it'll hit right home. Just try to be careful, okay? I'll do the same. Thanks Jasmin sealed the letter like any other letter she might send off with an owl, but instead of the address, she wrote the date of the bathroom incident on it, before springing up to the dormitory and opening the secret enchanted compartment of her chessboard and sliding it in there. The letters were a little tradition of hers, a little regularity to keep a check on herself. Each one was different, but each held the same information. How she lost to the darkness and how she awoke. This one, however, was stranger than most. Her fingers were itching to pull it out again and hand it to Draco, but she wasn't that stupid. He had no idea of the impact he had had, no idea what he had done. He'd use anything in there against her, didn't understand how precious that information was. Or how important he was to her, now that he had saved her.
Chapter Five It was a good two weeks before Draco walked up to her in the library. They talked little in those two weeks, but the silence between them wasn't malicious. Jasmin had the feeling that Draco was testing the waters, seeing how seriously she had meant her proposal and how much power he actually held, whether it was enough to ensure her silence. Well, Jasmin knew he had. Just because she didn't act the part didn't mean she didn't freeze every time she heard him say her name to someone else or watched him tensely whenever he walked up to Snape or another teacher. Every time she could feel her stomach sink as if there was a hundred foot fall beneath it. What he knew could get her into so much more trouble than he could understand. And the worst part of it was, she couldn't even retaliate. Ever since he had found out, she had been strangely fascinated with him and seeing him so vulnerable had her abandoning any plan of hurting him in the ways she could. Draco Malfoy didn't need to be hurt any further, not right now. Meaning when he actually did it, told anyone about the almost healed scars on her left forearm, she'd be powerless. And that did terrify her. Draco Malfoy was a terrifying boy, but Jasmin stayed, orbiting around him like a planet afraid of its sun. She was afraid of what he knew, the power he held over her, his anger and how little she cared for her own squirming insides whenever she got near him. Because, yes, she was afraid of him, more now than ever so, but that didn't stop her from looking forward to potions and defence against the dark arts, or feeling strangely disappointed when he chose to sit beside Pansy for the next assignment Slughorn gave them. When he approached her in the common room after it had cleared of the last stragglers gone to bed, her heart jumped, and she almost sliced the black queens long flowing hair off. She'd made the white queen a Vela, enjoying the symbolism of the seemingly pure creatures with the hideous temper representing the white side, and was now working on her black counterpart, a mermaid. "I would like your help. With the fixing." His tone was demanding, and he wore the face he kept up whenever bossing around first years, something he had done less and less in the last days. Jasmin inspected him, now that he had come near the light of the fire. His face had sunken in, his high cheekbones highlighted eerily by the fire. He was losing weight and the circles beneath his eyes had dug themselves there as permanent shadows. Letting none of her worry show on her face or her voice, knowing that he didn't want any of it now, not if he chose to keep his act up as well, she shrugged.
"Sure, no thing. Right now?" He drew his face into a grimace. "No, are you that stupid? Meet me on the seventh floor tomorrow after class." Jasmin nodded and started packing away her figures. "Okay. See you then." Draco spun on his heels and veered off down to the boy's dormitory. Jasmin sighed and followed, going to bed as well. *** The lessons next day seemed to take forever and in the free periods in between Jasmin could hardly concentrate on her homework, getting much too little done. But her mind was racing, all over the place. Why had Draco agreed, why now? What did he need fixed? What secret would he be demanding in return for her silence? Which ones could she offer? Which ones were too much? How could she convince him of their worth? Could she.... NO! By the end of the last period, she had set her mind on what she was going to tell him. Armed with only her wand and her knife, she climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. She waited at the top of the stairs, but she didn't have to wait long. Soon after she had regained her breath, Draco was sprinting up the steps, walking past her without a word. Jasmin hurried to follow him, furrowing her eyes in confusion when he paced in front of a blank wall. Before she could open her mouth to ask what the hell he was doing, a door started digging itself out of the stone. Draco stopped walking and pushed the door open, dragging her inside before slamming it shut. They were in a huge room filled with piles and piles of all kinds of random objects. Some of them were familiar, most of which she had no ideas what they were. "The Room..." "Of Requirement. I know, I've read about it. Never knew it was that easy to find," Jasmin interrupted him, letting her eyes wander the gigantic hall, her feet following Draco on their own accord. They stopped in front of what looked like a tall black wardrobe with a strange ornamental iron working that kept it locked.
"It's a vanishing cabinet. It's broken." Jasmin heard the quivering strain in his voice but refrained from looking around, catching his expression. Instead, she stepped forward and inspected the cabinet. "Does is have a connection at all? Or is it completely down?" "It has a connection, but it doesn't work. Nothing goes back and forth." Jasmin nodded. She didn't know too much about vanishing cabinet, but from what she knew she remembered that establishing the connection to another cabinet was the hardest part. Figuring out how to repair it should be doable. "Okay. That should be manageable. 'Till when did you say?" "End of term, latest. The earlier the better." Now she couldn't help herself. She turned and caught the look of bitter reluctance on his face before he could wipe it clean. She hid the intention of her turn by doing a three-sixty. "Room of Requirement, huh... Well, right now, I require..." She found what she had been thinking about and stepped towards the bookcase her eyes had fallen upon. Grinning upon realizing that indeed, all those books were on portal spells and vanishing cabinets, she started picking out any at random and carried them back to the clearing in the cluster on which the cabinet stood. She dropped them to the floor, pulling a set of cushions from the pile closest to her and turned to Draco. "Now, about the blackmail." It was a strange opener to a conversation, but Jasmin had always been upfront when nervous. And Draco's now again confident stance, looking at her amused and sceptically, had her fucking nervous. "Yes. A secret to ensure your silence." Her heart was racing under his cold grey eyes and she wanted nothing but to run, flee from his power. He was pulling her threads like a puppet master and she was about to hand him the match to set her alight. But she didn't run. Her feet were rooted to the ground and her hand crept to her left sleeve, slowly pulling up to reveal the rhythmically spaced scars on her forearm, now no longer covered by a bandage. Draco's smile froze at their sight. Jasmin was used to them and pulled her sleeve higher until it revealed her arm up to her elbow, pointing at a line that ran perpendicular to all the others, from her wrist up to the crook of her arm.
"Two tries," she explained to the scar that was hidden beneath several perpendicular smaller ones. "You can hardly see it was two, like I said, I am good with the knife. Never worked though. I always obliviated whoever found me and patched me up. I've always been good with that spell. Nobody else knows." She looked up and saw the horror in his eyes. Her insides quivered at the hurt and confusion and fear in his eyes, threatening to destroy the facade of carelessness she had to keep up in order to keep going. "If you tell anyone, I'm going to St Mungo's, especially when they find out the rest of it." Only now did Draco look up from her arm, barely composing his face. "The rest?" She could sense his horror. What else could there be, apart from what he had already seen? Jasmin put up a mischievous smile and rolled down her sleeves. "Now now, Draco, let's not be nosy. You have your secrets, I have mine. Equal Exchange. Now, let's get cracking." Leaving him standing there in his confusion, Jasmin dropped down and picked up Vague Verses venturing Vanishing Cabinets and started flipping the pages, her eyes racing over the words. Her calm, however, was all pretence. Her heart was racing, and her eyes flicked up at his face often, desperate to know how he was taking the news. She had hoped to never tell anyone about the two scars hidden beneath the others, had hoped never to admit to having been so weak at one point. She wanted to whip out her wand and cast on him too the spell that was just itching on her tongue. But she forced herself to concentrate. He was trusting her to help him, so she better get on with that if she didn't want the whole school laughing and fussing. After a few hours, Jasmin had tickled all the spells he'd already tried out of him and got working on figuring out what other ones to try. Eventually, Draco said they'd better get back to the dungeons to avoid getting caught outside of curfew and the walk back down the stairs was the only time Jasmin took her nose out of her newly acquired books. The Room of Requirement didn't seem to mind her borrowing them and she spent all night ploughing through two more volumes of Vague Verses venturing Vanishing Cabinets. Draco didn't speak to her after that, which was no surprise considering she didn't even take her eyes off the book to eat. Pansy and the others accepted her sudden mental absence, knowing her habit over obsessing over topics every now and then and left her alone.
Chapter Six Draco fled the great hall with his world crashing down on him. Potter's fucking green eyes, they pierced him and for a split second, Draco thought he knew it all. His heart dropped and if he hadn't been used to the sound of the world falling apart around him, he would have thought the roof of the great hall was coming down. And then, when Katie turned around as well, Draco ran for it. He was done, he was so fucking done. His body moved on its own accord, his mind didn't have the strength to move any further. He had almost killed Kathie. Kathie Bell could have been dead because of him. Once again he saw the dead bird before him, felt its limp weight in his hands. That could have been Kathie. Dead and cold and limp. And Potter knew. He looked at him, right through his ribs into his soul and he knew. Draco ran. The castle fell apart around him, and he ran to avoid the pieces of his world falling. For a second he wondered whether he could find Jasmin in time, before any of the pieces hit him or before Potter could find him. He quickened his step, turning corners as quickly as he could. He didn't know where he was going. He hastened up the stairs in front of him as fast as he could. Right, right, left, another right. His shoulder flared in pain as he threw himself against the door he opened, and he stumbled into the girls’ bathroom on the second floor. Draco Malfoy was going to die. He knew it. The mark in his arm burned and throbbed and Draco knew he would die. He couldn't do it, he couldn't kill and no matter how much Jasmin would help him, the cabinet would remain broken. He was done for. The Dark Lord would kill him and his family, in the most painful way he could conjure into his twisting slithering brain. Draco crashed against the sink and held on to the porcelain for dear life. His knuckles turning white and his bones shivering under the pressure. Sobs rolled over him and Draco drowned in despair. He found himself wishing for Jasmin to be here with him. It was strange how close she had suddenly gotten to him. He had always liked her, liked her wits and her quick tongue. But the face she had showed him over the last month had been one he had not only grown to like, but something more. She cared for him, genuinely, much more than Pansy, Crabbe or Goyle ever could. And she helped him. Even not knowing what was going on, she helped him because he needed it. She hadn't pitied his pathetic state, hadn't laughed that he couldn't handle that weight. She had smiled and helped. Right now he needed her more than ever, but Draco knew he couldn't go and find her. There was no way he could make it that far and keep his face. It was probably better that way. Draco had
seen the way she looked at him, he had heard the way her voice softened around him. He knew she liked him, more than what was good for her. He was going to die after failing to live up to the Dark Lord's expectations, but before his death would be granted to him, he would have to watch all those he loved die before him. For everything in the world he wanted to keep her out of that, out of his fucking problems. But he needed her. There were reasons he was in Slytherin, why he used charm and threat to get what he wanted or needed. He wasn't brave, he wasn't strong, he had no friends or extraordinary wits to rely on. There was no way he was getting out of this, there was no way he was getting out of this alive, not alone. And there was no way he was dragging her into this, not matter how comfortable it might be. He looked up at the mirror and watched grim resolve form on his face. He couldn't get out. He didn't have the courage to. And he wouldn't get out alive. Not alive. His survival instinct writhed at the thought, coiling and thrashing like the snake that was now nesting in his home. But the other parts of his mind, the ones that had long accepted his fate, rejoiced. Draco would never live to see the end of the war, one way or another. He would never live to be happy, alone or otherwise. He would never live to tell Jasmin what he felt whenever she looked at him, spoke to him, touched him. But he could choose how he died. He was dead, he was doomed. But he could give all those he loved, all those close to him, a chance. Later, Draco could barely remember how he had taken out his wand. Held it under his jaw. Angled it so the spell would go right up. Decided how he liked the colour green. How he'd like it to be the last thing he'd see. He could remember Myrtle. He remembered her words, her annoying voice, how she had tried to preserve that little heap of quivering pathetic fear that was left of his life. He remembered wishing for Jasmin. Asking the ghost to find her. He remembered Myrtle moaning and floating off into a toilet, moping. He remembered being alone. The duel with Potter was a blur of light and movement. The pain however was not. Even when Madame Pomfrey released him, he remembered the pain crystal clear. He remembered how he had panicked at first, how he had to remind himself that this is what he wanted. He could recall how his thoughts had flown back to Jasmin. How he had wondered if she had been just as afraid when she had almost died. When he woke up in the hospital wing that question had still lingered with him, even before the pain and the realization that he was still here, still around. The fear of what that implied overshadowed the memories, numbed him until he barely felt himself more. That was, until Jasmin touched his arm and looked up at him.
Chapter Seven After three weeks of only on and off sleep and regular all-nighters, Jasmin felt like she had understood the magic of the cabinet and had several ideas of what to try to fix it. She poked Draco in the arm after lunch to get his attention as he walked down the steps from the hospital wing, his surprise at her sudden willingness to speak to him again clearly showing on his face. "I think I've got something. I'm free now 'till dinner, you?" Recovering from his surprise rather quickly, Draco nodded. "Same." Smiling, a warm feeling of accomplishment in her chest, Jasmin followed Draco into the Room of Requirement. Only now, in the light of the candles floating over them, did she see how sick he looked. His pale skin had a greyish tone to it, his face was hollow and thin. Jasmin wondered when he had last eaten, or slept at that matter, glancing at the dark rings beneath his eyes. He looked frail and sick and Jasmin wasn't sure how his body was keeping him up. "Are you okay?" Genuine worry tinted her voice as she let all the pretence, all the masks fall, now that they were alone. Draco's eyes fell on her and she could tell he was trying to measure how much to tell her. "I will be, as soon as that thing's fixed," he murmured and walked over to the vanishing cabinet. Somehow he didn't sound convinced and Jasmin noticed once more that strange reluctance in his slender frame as he moved towards the dark cabinet. Jasmin caught up to him and caught his gaze, closing the cabinet he had begun to open. Over the last few days, she had come to accept and understand a few things. She had grown to care for Draco. He was an arrogant asshole, sure, but he was also weak and was carrying a weight far greater than what his slim shoulders could support. And he had saved her from the darkness, had saved her from that terrible sleep. It hadn't come back once, not even hints of it ever since he had blasted her through that stall, and she owed him for that, owed it to him to help him. "Are you sure?" Her voice was quiet now, small and full of worry. She remembered that he had come down from the hospital wing when she had stopped him, and somehow, she knew what the answer would be. She watched him closely, watched the conflict of keeping up his cold proud facade and letting himself crumble in her arms. When he didn't answer, just stood there, shaking,
Jasmin moved towards him, her heart racing in fear as she reached out to him, resting her arm gently on his arm. Her voice was now raw and just barely more than a whisper. "Because, I have that feeling you don't want it fixed."
Chapter Eight He shook beneath her touch and kept his eyes fixed on the ground behind her shoulder. Jasmin let her hand trail down his arm, letting go immediately as he flinched when she reached his lower arm. "Equal Exchange," she whispered, the terror of the idea rattling her voice. Only now did he look at her, the look on his face unreadable. "You tell me, I tell you. All of it." He didn't answer, just stood there looking down at her. Drawing a deep shuddering breath, Jasmin took a step backward and kept her gaze on the cabinet. She sat down on the cushions the room had remembered to put there and opened her book. "Try this one." She handed him the opened book and he sat down beside her, also looking at the cabinet. He took the book and stared down at the pages, not seeing them. Jasmin clenched her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into her palm, and pinched her eyes closed. "The first time was during the Christmas holidays," she whispered. Her fingers played with the hem of her left sleeve and she slowly drew it upwards, tracing the familiar scars. Draco beside her froze, his eyes still on the book. Her stomach lurched, and she felt like she might vomit, but she kept talking, gritting her teeth. "None of you were there, you all went home. Third year. I went into grounds. I hoped the wind could wake me up. It didn't though." Jasmin let her head roll back onto the pile she was leaning against and opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling above. Draco was looking at her now, something soft about his look. "It hurt. A lot. There were clouds in the sky. I remember being sad that I couldn't see the stars. Madam Hooch found me. She patched me up, got me back to consciousness. Gave me some sort of potion to drink that helped with the blood loss. I obliviated her while she was still shouting at me. I think she was in shock. I told her she had wanted to show me something at the Quidditch pitch and that she had fallen. I think she pretended to remember. We went back to the castle, just like that. Like nothing had happened. It rained that night, so nobody ever found the blood." Jasmin looked over at Draco staring at her in shock. The familiar plastic smile tugged at her lips, but she let it fall back down, not taking the opportunity to hide, scramble away again. "Your turn," she murmured, and a look of terror struck his face. "Why don't you want to fix the cabinet?"
Jasmin looked back up and held on to her scars, making sure she wouldn't run. Not now, not when she was so bare. Terror beat through her with every breath, terror that he wouldn't budge, wouldn't open up, that she would be alone. But then he spoke. His voice so soft, so small, nothing but a breaking whisper. "When the cabinet is fixed, they'll come. Aunt Bellatrix and the others. They'll come here, to Hogwarts." His breathing was frantic, his chest moving heavily with sobs and tears of fear he wouldn't allow. "They'll make sure I follow my orders. Do as He told me to. Kill... him..." His voice died under him and Jasmin watched him crumble, shatter behind his facade. He was breathing heavily, his lips quivering and his eyes furious to hold back tears, but she could sense how much worse he looked beneath. Not exactly knowing what she was doing, Jasmin took up his hand into hers and held it there, between them, as she picked up her voice from where it had fallen to the floor. "I once obliviated my dad." She felt her heart break at the memory, but she kept talking, had to keep talking. For her own sake, and for the sake of the boy falling apart beside her. "He walked in on me, just like you did. He was horrified. Had the same look as you had. He went to me and just held me for a while. And I thought it might be fine. That I wouldn't have to keep it secret anymore. Then he started talking, about getting help, how this was normal for people my age, how talking to a professional could help me. I did it right then. He didn't even finish the sentence. Pushed him outside while he was still confused, and he just knocked again and asked what I wanted for dinner." Jasmin tried to breathe, tried to explode the shackles that seemed to have been laid on her chest. "What if we don't manage to fix the cabinet?" "Then he'll kill my mother and father." The thought alone seemed to make him wince and Jasmin started tracing soft circles on the back of his hand, letting him know she was there with him. "They've fallen from his grace anyway. He'll have me under the imperius curse and then he'll make me do it. He already had me torturing mother, as a taste of what would come should I fail he said." He shuddered at the thought and tears spilled from his eyes over his clenched jaws. "I have to fix the cabinet." Jasmin nodded as if she agreed while her mind was racing, veering around to find any sort of solution, any sort of comfort. "Okay. Who do you have to kill when they get here?" Her voice was soft and calm, so much more confident and stable than she felt. When he answered, his voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper, shaking terrified in the air.
"Dumbledore." Jasmin felt her heart drop into her stomach and burn up in the acid. Then she nodded. Smile and wave, girl, smile, and wave. She didn't speak while her mind raced away, desperately trying to comprehend, understand, find a way out. Draco was the first to find his voice again. "You... you said you were insane..." His voice trailed off, but Jasmin didn't need to hear the question to understand what he was asking. "I call it darkness. Sometimes it just takes over and I feel nothing. I'll be a ghost and just drift around. I feel and see and think nothing, just move, breathe on. It's horrible. It can go on for weeks. The longest I've had has been over two months. I hate it. It makes a heartbeat feel like an eternity and a month like a minute. I just float around, can't move. It's like quicksand pulling me down and all I can do is stay still." Jasmin drew a ragged breath and now it was Draco squeezing her hand. It was strange how reassuring his touch was. Maybe it was the thought of him being just as broken as she was, just as in need for support as her. 'Till now, I've always woken up. It's like breathing again, getting out of the water after a dive. All of a sudden, I can hear again, I feel. That's what you ran in on. I tried to feel, hoping to feel the pain could keep the darkness away. When you came in I didn't want you to notice, so I stopped. I almost drowned there. You tore me out of it with your blast, saved me." She closed her eyes for a second, trying to muster up the courage to keep going. "That's why I stuck around too. I wasn't lying, you scare me. You know how to hurt people so well." He flinched at that, but Jasmin kept going, had to keep talking or she'd stop altogether. "But that fear was something. It kept me here, kept me awake. I always hated how horrible I was when around you, hated hurting other people. But that self-loathing was really fucking strong, it made me more alive than most things." Silence settled around them and Jasmin became strangely aware of his cool hand in hers. And of one other thing. "It hasn't been back though. The darkness." She glanced over to him and caught his grey eyes. She smiled, and it was a real smile that blossomed on her face. "You're keeping me alive."
Chapter Nine Jasmin pieced herself together at his sight. Yes, he was keeping her here, she had realized as she had said it, but he was breaking apart. Jasmin picked up her shards and shifted until she kneeled in front of him. "Equal Exchange. You saved me, I save you." She twisted her head and glanced at the cabinet, then turned back to Draco who was trying to follow her example, trying to piece himself together. "Let me try something. We have never spoken, neither of you or me. I have deduced all I now know by myself." Draco was too stunned by her sudden change in tone to stop her when she took his face in her hands, pressing the next words upon him, making sure he understood their importance. "I might be able to do something about this. But that is only if you speak to nobody. Of none of the conversations we've had. Don't talk to me, don't look at me, I'm nobody to you, just another girl at your whim." He nodded stiffly, and she pulled him to his feet after getting up herself. Now he towered above her, his pale sick face looking down at her, lost and fearful. "Don't do anything until I get to you again. If they ask, you're working on the cabinet." With a fit of courage suddenly seizing her heart, she placed her hand on cheek and looked up at him. "I think we can do this," she whispered. For a heartbeat, Jasmin only saw the sliver of hope in his eyes, only felt how close he was, her heart nudging her ever closer. Then she stepped back and let him go. "I got to go. Shouldn't be too long." Then she spun around, fleeing from her own confused heart, urged on by an idea burning in her fingertips. His tale had shown her just under how much pressure he was, how quickly he was crumbling under it. Just the idea that she might help him had her almost running down the hall. Jasmin had always considered herself more of a Hufflepuff than a Slytherin. She was empathic and enjoyed helping people. She hated hurting others and she tended to reflect the mood of those around her. But in over five years, she had picked up several traits that seemed predominantly present in the house of Salazar Slytherin. She had become a very good liar and had learned, from Pansy's mistakes mostly, the art of seducing boys. She had become more confident as she displayed superiority towards others and had learned to pick apart, recognize and come up with her own schemes to get what she wanted. But most importantly of all, she had learned rather quickly that every piece of information was useful. Every sliver of a conversation, ever peek at a letter and every strange movement was intel that could be used for her own plans or kept for later ones.
That was why she was now running down the hall towards where she knew the Gryffindor common room to be. An article from the Daily Prophet from last year kept flashing in her mind as she caught herself on a corner of the spiral staircase. She wasn't going to run into the Gryffindor common room all out of breath, looking completely panicked. She knew the prejudices the Lions would have towards her, she didn't need any other false impressions. Once her breathing had resumed its regular rhythm, she walked up to the picture of a very fat lady in a light pink dress. No other student was approaching the painting, meaning there was no way she'd get into the common room. She sighed. This was going to be a lot more difficult than she'd hoped. "Oh, hello young lady. You seem to have lost your way, my dear. This is the Gryffindor common room, you need to head down the stairs and..." the lady chirped but Jasmin interrupted her. "Thank you, but I'm not lost. I am looking for someone, a Gryffindor. I wondered if you might help me." She kept her voice soft and light, giving the impression of innocence and helplessness. Immediately the cold features of the painting softened somewhat, but mistrust still lingered in the lady's voice. "And why would a Slytherin be looking for a Gryffindor, if I may inquire?" Jasmin smiled nicely and shifted her weight, opening her body language as she had been waiting for the question, waiting to talk to a painting for hours on end. "I need her help with something I can't figure out on my own. It's a secret, she didn't want me to tell anyone. Might you be able to tell you whether Hermione Granger is in the common room or where else she might be?" The fat lady, at hearing the Slytherin speak in such high tones of Granger, smiled. "Of course, dearie. She's here, if you'd excuse me, I'll tell her you're waiting." "Thank you so much." The fat lady walked out of her frame and disappeared, presumably walking into one of the frames in the common room. Jasmin stepped down a few steps. Granger wouldn't be as easy to convince that she meant no harm, so she put some distance between them, picking a step so she'd be beneath her, enabling Granger to look down on her and see all of her. Jasmin had learned well with the Slytherin, had learned to manipulate and use others body language and expectations against them. This was the first time she was proud of that knowledge.
Much too soon, the fat lady returned, and the portrait swung open, revealing a hole out of which first Potter, then Granger, and then Weasley climbed. All three looked suspiciously at her, Ron straight out glaring daggers as he recognized her as one of Draco's followers. "What do you want?" Potter asked harshly. Jasmin answered his question to Granger. "I need to speak to you, somewhere we won't be overheard. I need your help." "With what?" Weasley asked, looking as spiteful as ever. Jasmin didn't blame him, Draco had in the past made it a favourite past time of his to pick on the Weasleys, mocking them about their poverty as a punishment for what his father saw as treachery to the blood. However, Jasmin was also feeling slightly annoyed. She was asking nicely, they were three and she was one and she hadn't made a threatening move once. She just wanted to talk. "I can't tell you here. These walls have as many ears as paintings, probably more. Just, can we go outside? It's important." They looked at each other, weighing their odds. The boys looked very unhappy about the proposal, but eventually, Granger turned to her. "Okay. Let's go." Jasmin wanted to dance in relief. She had learned that girls tended to be more reasonable, especially those that weren't part of a group. Boys tended to let pride and ego steer their reasoning, girls tended to be more pacifistic and likely to see more reason. Jasmin knew Potter was the direct link she needed, but Granger was her best bet at getting him to comply. It was a strange procession, the three Gryffindors, and the Slytherin, trying to avoid the fullest hallways and the resulting gossip as they made their way to the grounds. Jasmin sensed the trio instinctively steering towards the Gamekeeper's Hut, but she was glad she didn't have to say anything when Granger led them to the edge of the lake, where trees and bushed would hide them. There, she spun around, hostility still flashing in her eyes. "Now, what do you want?" Jasmin took a deep breath. The following conversation was going to be hard, but there was nothing she could do about that. She held on to Draco's fear and felt a pang of regret for a second when she remembered she had just left him there in the Room of Requirement. She chased the thought out of her head. This would help, this had to help. "You're with the Order of the Phoenix, right?" The boys froze.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Granger hissed, and Jasmin had to suppress her instinct to flinch away from their anger. "There was an article in the Daily Prophet and you and some others were missing the night that happened. It makes sense." "Who did you tell?" Potter demanded to know, and Jasmin did her best to keep calm. This was a negotiation, anger to hide her fear would get her nowhere. "Nobody. Look, I don't want to cause any trouble. I just really need your help," she pleaded, and it seemed like Granger finally got it. "With what?" Her voice was still hard, her arms crossed, but at least she was giving in. Jasmin focused on her breath, tried to stay calm. She couldn't fuck this up. "Save a life. Four, actually." Grangers face softened slightly in surprise and Weasley and Potter seemed stunned for the moment. All the better. Jasmin turned her full attention on Granger. "Whose? And from what?" Jasmin armed herself. This was the tricky part. Getting them to agree before telling them it was about Draco. They'd never agree if they knew it was him. He and his family had done too much to the trio for them to agree. "A friend of mine and his family. He... his parents are in the hand of him, and he has to do what they tell him they'll kill his family. He..." Jasmin broke off. She couldn't tell them... but she had to... She looked up at Granger, looked into her eyes and begged her to understand. "Please, Granger. I'm asking you because you're reasonable. Can I ask you to at least try and be that while we talk?" At that, Weasley seemed to find his tongue. "Reasonable?! Hermione is the most reasonable person you'll find. You did damn right to come to her for help!" But Jasmin ignored and just stared at Granger, hoping. Granger shifted her weight, tilting her head cockily. "Try me," she ordered, and Jasmin had to do everything not to smile. "Okay. His orders are to kill Dumbledore and open a passageway for the Deatheaters into Hogwarts. He doesn't want to, he's terrified, but they'll kill his family if he doesn't comply," she
added quickly, seeing the looks on their faces at the mention of Dumbledore. "I need the order to hide him and his family. They need to get him out of there." She forced herself to shut up, seeing the way they looked at each other. "I suppose we can ask," Potter offered and Weasley screwed up his face. "Help someone who was planned to kill Dumbledore?" "If he's worked with the Dark Lord he'll have information. If his parents are kept there they might know where he is. That might just be what the Order needs," Granger added. She turned to Jasmin after a last meaningful glance at Potter. "Okay. We'll ask. No promises 'till then. Mind telling us who we're hiding?" Jasmin didn't know where she had gotten the courage to continue speaking from. "Draco." Weasley’s jaw dropped, Grangers face hardened and Potter's screwed up in hatred. "No way!" Weasley found his voice first. "No way we're helping that slimy greasy ass! Whatever trouble he's in, he deserves it!" "Malfoy's going to kill Dumbledore?!" Potter asked in disbelief. Granger was quiet. Ignoring the boys, Jasmin kept her gaze fixed on her. Potter may be the leader of the group, but Granger was the voice of reason. So Jasmin stared at her, waiting for her reaction, begging her to remember her promise from earlier. Granger stared at her, her face a stone-cold mask Jasmin couldn't read until eventually, she seemed to breathe again. "Malfoy couldn't come and ask himself, could he?" she hissed, and the full extent of her hatred for Draco dawned upon Jasmin, making her respect and admiration for the girl grow even further as she hadn't denied the request as soon as she had heard his name. "He doesn't know I'm here. He... he's breaking." "Awesome. Less work for us," Weasley threw in, but once again, Jasmin ignored him.
"He's helped me, a lot, and I owe him. He can't do it and he's breaking down. He won't be able to continue the show for much longer. And when he doesn't they'll kill him. Listen," she quickly continued as Potter was about to open his mouth. "I know you hate him. I know he's an asshole and he's done nothing over the last six years to make you have any sort of sympathy towards him. Just... please," she begged, letting her gaze wander between the three. Granger spoke first, her face now resolute and set. "Okay." "WHAT?!" both boys yelled in unison, staring at her in wild disbelief. Jasmin also stared. She had prepared for hours of arguing. Not this. "We'll talk to the Order." "Hermione!" Weasley opened to argue, but Granger spun around and scolded him. "The Malfoy's were with You-know-who from the very beginning. Yes, they're scum, but they're more use to us alive than dead. From what she's saying he will kill them, and we're all better off saving their sorry asses than letting them die. And it's not like we will have to do anything. We just need to pass her on to the Order." Jasmin wanted to kiss Granger by the look on Weasleys and Potters faces. They didn't want to help, not Draco, but the girl's fury had them think twice of whether to argue with her any more. Granger turned back to Jasmin. "We'll contact the Order. Don't tell anyone about this. I'll come back to you as soon as we know more." Jasmin couldn't restrain herself. She hugged Granger tightly, letting go immediately as soon as she felt the girl stiffen beneath her. "Thank you," she said as sincerely as she could manage, then she ran off before the boys could recover from their shock.
Chapter Ten Jasmin found Draco in the lavatory where he had discovered her. He had fled the common room abruptly after successfully ignoring and sneering at her for the rest of the day. Pansy had laughed about his sudden absence, had joked about how twitchy he had been for the last weeks. "Speaks volumes about McGonagall's transfiguration abilities, doesn't it? Couldn't even properly turn him back from that ferret Mad-Eye made him." Jasmin eventually managed to excuse herself and went looking for him. She had run through what felt like half the castle when she opened the door to the lavatory and quietly entered. Draco was standing over the sinks, holding on for dear life it seemed. His arms were stiff and pinched his shoulder blades together on his back, making him looked like a feeble tent held up by a quivering frame of bones, threatening to fall with the first whisper of wind. Jasmin could hear his ragged breath interrupted here and there with quiet winces of pain. When he heard her steps he flew around, his face contorting quickly from fear to anger until he spotted her. Jasmin walked up to him slowly like she would to a frightened animal, determined not to scare him with any quick movements. She held her hands where he could see them and kept her eyes on him. Her gaze fell upon his arm, his rolled-up sleeve, and when he followed her eyes, he quickly moved to pull down the white fabric. But she had seen. Careful not to move her face she looked back up at him. The fear in his eyes stung her. Fear of judgment, fear of betrayal. He was afraid of what she might think of him now, that she might turn her back. As if she could. The mark meant little to her, she knew what it meant, had expected it to be there. When she reached him, he flinched as she lifted her hand to take his. She looked up at him, wanting to make sure he was fine with what she was doing, and softly pulled his sleeve back up. *** It was a different kind of fear that gripped him now, coursed through his veins and brain as he looked down upon her brown mass of hair. He had feared for months now, not even sleep bringing relief, but never had he feared like this. Feared for the ground on which he stood, that sliver of silver hope that made his heart beat.
Her hands were warm and small, like he remembered them on his face and arms. Her fingers moved over his skin softly, barely brushing it as she inspected the horrible mark upon his arm. He winced as it flared up in pain once again and her eyes shot up at him, worried. "It hurts," she whispered, more a statement than questions and he nodded, clenching his teeth, willing himself not to cry. Not again, not in front of her. The mark burned into his skin like glowing hot iron and the pain melted with the feeling of her warm hands on his skin. She brushed lower, her thumb tracing a pattern on the palm of his and she took out her wand. Barely noticing it over the pain that had driven him out of the common room, he now looked at her again. It was strange how he trusted her, trusted her to see him like this. Were it anyone else, he would have died in shame, but not with her. She didn't laugh or mock or fuss or shouted. She worried quietly and moved to act, to help him. He would never admit this before anyone, but he was thankful that she was helping him. He would have crumbled alone. No matter what she had said back in the Room of Requirement, no matter how confused and terrified she had looked when he had blasted her out of hiding, her arm raw and bleeding, right now she was a rock in the surf and he clung to her for dear life. She looked up at him as if looking for objections, but he didn't care. He trusted her, trusted her to help, to know what to do like she always had. He merely pinched his eyes closed as another wave of fire scorched his arm to the flesh, turning his bone into liquid steel, breaking and screaming and blazing alight. He barely heard the whispered aguamenti. He only felt the relief as the cold water moulded around his arm, cooling the fire that was burning his skin. A sigh of relief escaped his lips and once again he looked down at her, watched her face set in determined concentration as her wand tip lingered close to the snake's mouth that was burning on his arm. "You don't hate me?" His voice was small and nothing and he was surprised that she even heard him. She looked up at him in bewilderment which cleared after a second when she understood what he meant. "You're an asshole, Draco, not a murderer," she answered quietly, her voice soothing and calm like it had been in the Room of Requirement. "You hurt people, but never like this."
They both stood in silence, Draco lost in the feeling of the coolness on his arm, Jasmin in deep concentration on the spell. *** "I talked to Granger today," she started after a while. Draco froze beneath her and her grip around his hand tightened as not to let him slip away. Quickly she continued before he could interrupt her. "Potter and Weasley weren't too happy, but she's reasonable. They're going to contact the Order of the Phoenix, ask whether they can get you out of this." Draco wrenched his hand out of hers and the water fell to the ground. His face was twisted in angry disbelief as he backed away from her. "You did what?" Jasmin sighed and breathed. Apparently, she would be having the argument she hadn't had with Granger with Draco. "I asked Granger to contact the Order to hide you and your family," she calmly explained. Anger terrified her, especially when aimed at her. And she had always been afraid of Draco's anger more than of anything else. That fear was coming back now. His face twisted with rage and she backed away as he stormed towards her. "I have not sunk so low as to ask a Mudblood for help," he hissed, and Jasmin felt terrified tears swim in her eyes. "This has nothing to do with how low you've sunk. They are on your side, they can help." Her voice was low and calm, but it quivered with fear. Jasmin wanted to run, get away from the fury radiating from him, curl up somewhere and cry and hide and vanish, but she stood her ground. "I don't want their help!" he bellowed, and Jasmin winced, feeling the wall behind her. "Not the help of mudbloods and blood traitors. Not fucking Potter's help!" His voice crushed her. It echoed around the room and she could feel herself breaking under it. She could hear the cracks forming, could feel her heart tearing apart. The pain dug and dug, and his voice cracked her, cracked her open to the core. And anger lashed out. Fire of fury roaring bright to hide the wounds his words had cut.
"Then die," she hissed, and he stopped dead in his tracks. "Your pride will kill you, Malfoy. First, your mother while she screams and cries and begs for you to be left unharmed while her husband watches. Then your father, his face so contorted in pain that he cannot utter a word, not one last sentence of how proud he is of you. And then, last, you. Alone and afraid and dead. If you prefer that, then fine, I won't bother." She forced the words through her clenched teeth, her anger lashing out to protect her from further wounds and words from his silver tongue. When she saw the stunned expression on his face, the way he withdrew from her and retreated, hurt and confused, her face softened. "You won't have to deal with them, Draco. I'll arrange it, tell you what you need to do. They weren't too fond of the idea either, but Granger isn't stupid. You're more use to us alive than dead. And we're all on the same side eventually. You can tear each other apart when he is dead." Once again, she took his hand in hers, hoping to mend the divide, hoping to make him see reason. She could see the conflict in his face, then he ripped his hand from her, his face twisting once more into that proud anger. "I won't explain to my father that a mudblood is saving his life." He spun on his heel and headed to leave. A mixture of anger and desperation fuelled Jasmin's movements as she lunged forward and caught his arm, the left, burning, hurting one. She dug her fingers into his flesh, not caring whether it would hurt him or not, only that he stayed. Using his own forward momentum she swung him around and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him towards her, forcing him to look at her, to understand. "You will. You will let me help you and you will work with me to save your family and yourself. You will, this one single fucking time in your life, stuff your arrogance up your arse and listen. And if you don't, if you offend Granger or her friends so that they change their mind, or do something stupid when with the Order, the whole fucking school will know what you have done, what you failed to do and how you crumbled." Her voice was calm, but her eyes were fire. He was trying to wriggle out of her grasp, but her nails dug into the skin at his neck and forced him to stay. His eyes widened. "You can't. You can't do that. If you tell them, I'll..." "Then go ahead. Tell them I'm mad, tell them I hurt myself to feel alive, remotely normal, tell them how easily they can really hurt me. Tell Madam Hooch and Dumbledore about their false
memories, tell them I broke the law and obliviated my parents. I don't care." Her grip softened slightly as a strange warmth found its way into her eyes. "Tell them, I'll still save you, whether you want it or not, then I can die." At the shock in his eyes, she smiled a small sad smile. "That's right. Like I said, you saved me. From my own stupid drifting without knowing what I'm here for. Well, I know now, I know what I want. You, alive, away from him. And I'm a Slytherin, remember? Ambitious. Cunning. Determined. I know what I want, and I'll get there. Don't bother trying to stop me." Jasmin let go of his arm, letting her hand slide lower until her fingers entwined with his, let her hand relax until it lay gently on his neck. "It's no sign of weakness to need help, Draco. It's strength to accept it. To step over your pride and embrace what others offer." She pulled him lower and met him halfway, rising to the tips of her toes. Their faces were so close now, and Jasmin could tell his heart was racing just as fast as hers. "Let me help you," she whispered, the words brushing against his lips like a silver light. Then she kissed him. Not wanting to give him the chance to refuse, she gave in to the craving of her heart and came closer. Her lips brushed his, melting into him, made liquid by the fires of fear and passion. Somehow, this felt so right, so meant that Jasmin wondered at how intense the fire in her soul suddenly was, craving for more. Only when his hands moved to her face, holding her close to him, his lips moving with her so desperately as if it meant death to let got, did she notice the relief flooding her as he accepted her. Jasmin melted into the kiss like wax modelled beneath his hands and her heart racing with happiness that felt so strange in contrast to the fear and angst ruling her for the last year. When she pulled back, out of breath and shivering beneath his hands she stayed on the tips of her feet, wanting to be as close to him as possible. Trying to tame the hurricane inside her heart, she closed her eyes. When she opened them and looked up she saw Draco looking at her, a look of curious happiness on his face. Even a small smile. Jasmin was sure she hadn't seen him smile all year. Not like this. Not a real genuine soft and heart-breaking smile. "We can do this."
Chapter Eleven It was a week before Draco spoke to her again. Jasmin told herself that she didn't mind, that it was just his way of dealing with things. He was powerless and had laid his life into the hands of someone else. Further, he had his family’s expectations to disappoint, a whole other batch of problems. Still, no matter what she told herself, it hurt. Which meant that she was getting through all of her work twice as fast, digging herself furiously into homework, burying herself in work, anything to distract her from his slender frame, his hollow, sunken face and his frightened eyes that didn't even brush her. At breakfast, Jasmin was painting the last white pawn, a small figure with an eerie resemblance to the youngest Weasley, when a tiny owl aimed a letter at her cup of pumpkin juice. She quickly saved the letter and saw the further absence of any more mail as a sign to get back to work. She blew the paint on the figure until it dried and put it back in its cushioned compartment together with her six brothers and her mother. Taking the box and the letter, she made her way back to the common room. Finding an armchair she curled up and put user box in her lap. A quick scan told her the room was mostly empty, as most people had classes now or were drowning under oceans of homework. So should she, but her emotion-avoidance-tactic had gotten her up to date and on top of everything pretty quickly. She opened the letter. The Order will take them in. Meeting in Dumbledore's office, midnight. Bring Draco. Jasmin wanted to both cry and break out into crazy laughter as relief tore open her ribcage. She quickly wiped her face from any emotions when she heard footsteps on the thin dark rugs behind her. But the person didn't approach her but walked past her. Draco walked as if in a dream, his skeletal frame moving without him, dragging him on. The ghostly nature of his movement scared her as if he was already far gone, his mind drifted away from this world, begging for the final threads to be cut, while his body simply moved on, kept moving without him. Jasmin had to force herself to stand, to tap his arm. She rooted her feet to the grounds, dug roots into the underwater earth to stay put when his dead grey eyes hit her. "I need to talk to you. Alone." She mimicked at the few Slytherins that were with them in the room. He nodded, the movement mechanical and surreal, then he broke into a slow walk, back out of the common room. Clutching the letter in her hands, Jasmin followed.
She was so caught up in his frail frame, his pointy bones sticking out everywhere that she didn't know where they were going until they were in a lavatory with a broken stall at the very end. Here he turned and once again looked at her without really seeing. Worry creased her brow when she saw how deep his eyes had sunken into his skull. "How are you doing?" The sound of her voice seemed to magically draw his attention from that dark place it had lingered to her and he looked at her for the first time. "You said you wanted to speak to me." His voice was lifeless, and Jasmin wondered where he drew the strength from to sound so hostile. It stung, the way he held up his defences around her, how he didn't trust her. It felt like that moment they had shared here last time hadn't happened at all, as if it had just been a dream. She was just trying to help him; couldn't he see that? With all he knew she was bound to him, she couldn't just leave his side. He could wreck her life, and as little as she usually cared for it, somehow it had gained value over the last weeks. He had given it value. Jasmin had drifted through her life for as long as she could recall, had been pushed and prodded further by the world around her without ever making a move. But that last cut, that door blasting into her, had been the last push. Then she had moved. Draco had made her move, and she had weaved herself through her life for the last few weeks. It had been exhausting, but never had she been in less danger of the darkness overtaking her than now. And it had all been for him. She needed him, needed him to stay close by, to stay with her. She needed the way her heart took a leap whenever he entered the room, the way her brain froze over whenever he turned to look at her, the way her mind went blank whenever he was close. She needed Draco Malfoy, and the way he was looking at her now, as if she was the root of all his misery, was killing her. But she didn't let it show. She never did, she'd be damned before she would give him another thing to turn against her. Her face smoothened over and became a cold blank slate, a mask so much better than his, that it even fooled him. He took a step backward as she shoved the note into his hands and looked up at him, her eyes cold to hide the blood collecting in her heart. "They've done it. We'll meet in Dumbledore’s office tonight, midnight. Don't be late and don't fuck it up." With that, she turned to leave. She had to be careful with masks, had to be careful with icing over her soul to avoid pain like that. Hiding from pain was an invitation for the darkness, the easiest way to slip into it. She had to get away from him, away from having to protect herself from his silver tongue.
"And what if?" Jasmin cursed herself for stopping and turned around. His face was cold, and his arrogant sneer was back in place. Jasmin wanted to scream, wanted to tear down those walls of ice that he thought he needed, wanted to tear open her chest so that he would finally understand that he could be weak with her, that he could break down, wanted to finally know whether it was okay for her to do the same. Because she felt like she was about to break, to crumble and shatter in front of him. Her own secrets were tearing her apart and the boy she had hoped would save her from herself was doing his best to aid her self-destruction. "Then we die," she stated coldly, a strange comfort hugging her at that thought. Draco pushed his signature grin onto his face and Jasmin could have been any other student in the whole fucking school as he pushed past her. "And what makes you think I want you alive, Dissatin?" Those words hit home. It tore down the drapes of illusion she had carefully crafted around their relationship and had her see it for the first time for what it really was. Draco cared about as much for her as a drug dealer cared for an addict. She needed the highs he could supply, and he happily used what she so easily offered. He had moulded her to strike others with a level of cruelty she despised and had profited from her self-hatred. And after voluntarily offering herself to help him out with a bloody murder plot, he discarded her like the useless asset she now was. Jasmin didn't bother hiding in one of the stalls. She let herself drop to the ground, it was too much to both stay standing and stop herself from falling apart right now. The pain of betrayal stung in her soul and she had to remind herself of the benefits of it to not try to reason with herself. The pain kept her alive, it kept her here. So no matter how much it hurt and how much she wanted to tell herself that he was just stressed, under a lot of pressure, that of course he felt safer behind his masks, that the way he held on to her back when they kissed meant that he did actually care for her, that she just needed to wait until this was all over, she couldn't. She had to keep the pain there, alive and bright. So Jasmin sat there on the cold tiles of the boy’s lavatory and tilted her head back onto the wall. She concentrated on the pain in her chest, the way it forged iron bands around her lungs that wouldn't let her breathe and welcomed all the wrong memories she now had. The way his lips had moved against hers, the way he had held her, as if he actually needed her as much as she needed him. The way his voice had become soft and silent when he had told her about the cabinet, as if he was opening a weak spot to her, just to lure her in. She had to give him that, he had played her very well. He had known exactly what she craved before even she had known and had become that. He had become a person to confine in, a person that both
needed her help and could help her when she was about to fall apart again. He had kept up the act incredibly well, as if he actually cared, until he had what he needed from her. At the back of her pained mind, the thought that she had delivered him right on Dumbledore's doorstep, with Potter and all the important members of the Order of the Phoenix right there to be snacked away by the Death Eaters, padded around, trying to find a way for her to notice it. When Jasmin acknowledged it, panic was added to the pain. She wanted to jump up and race to Hermione or anyone who might stop this folly she had started, but her body wouldn't move. Jasmin clasped her hand over her mouth and screamed in frustration, fear, and pain. But then exhaustion crept in. She no longer had the energy to stop the foolish homicidal side of herself from arguing with herself. Going through the conversation all his hostility had only been directed towards her. He had been hopeful about the plan, he had only become mean towards her. And even that could just have been a reversion to his usual snarky self. He had never had emotions for her, had kissed her only to give her what she wanted, but he didn't mean no malice. He had no interest in making her believe she would get any further than Pansy, that's why he had been so casually mean to her, but he wasn't going to pull through with his plan. He had just used her as a resource, as a friend, he simply didn't want her the way she wanted him probably. Probably. The word lingered in her mind, raising hopes she resented the moment they saw the light of dawn. But maybe they weren't unfounded. Maybe he was just stressed out, the pressure getting to him. She knew the feeling of feeling safer behind a mask to show to others. And right now, safety was scarce in his life, a luxury he had to hold on to wherever he could. Jasmin hated herself for how much she wanted that thought to be true. How much she wanted Draco Malfoy to care for her. It was pathetic how desperate she was. At that thought, tears welled up inside her. Jasmin did her best to fight them down, but eventually gave up. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to be, nobody to impress. She could cry all she wanted for once. She could cry and wail and thrash around, maybe it would mend the threatening tear in her soul, and nobody would hear, and nobody would care. *** It took Draco everything he had to stay rooted where he had hidden himself next to the door and not jump out and comfort her like he wanted to when she started crying. As soon as he had seemingly left, the pain showed on her face, pain he had caused with just a few, well placed words. He had learned that art from her and it took every ounce of resolve he had to now use it
against her. But he had to. Sure, he and his family might be hidden after this, they might be out of the line of fire, but the Death Eaters and especially the Dark Lord were not stupid. They knew he wasn't brave, he wasn't full of courage and strength. They knew there was no way he would just overcome his fear like that and run to Dumbledore for help, not with the lives of his parents on the line. They would know he'd had help. They would find her, and Draco wanted no part in what would then follow. She had to stay clear of him. He knew this was a cruel way to repay her for all she had done to help him, but in the end, it was the right thing to do. She was saving his life, he was saving hers. Because no matter how talented a witch she was, one did not defy the Dark Lord without consequences. So he held on to his tongue, so he wouldn't call out and made sure his feet stayed rooted where they were as he made himself at least witness the pain he had caused her. He watched as she stood up and started pacing, tears still running over her face. He shrank back as the first scream hit him like a train, the others to follow were worse and worse. She cut her hand badly as she punched a mirror and shattered it, her bones crunching as they hit the wall behind. But she didn't stop when her blood hit the floor, she just screamed louder, curling herself into that sound that cut through his soul. Crouching on the floor, she hid her face in her bloody hands. Sobs rocked through her body, risking her balance on her heels with every breath and it was all Draco could to stay where he was. He wanted to comfort her, to hug her, stop whatever was tearing her apart like this. So he stood there, letting the sobs rattle her until she fell, curled up on the cold tiles. As he crept out of the lavatory he had to keep telling himself that this was good, that this was what he wanted. If he had caused her pain like this, she wouldn't come near him. She would stay away, maybe even attack him, retaliating for what he had done to her. Anything but kiss him. If she did that again, he knew he wouldn't be able to follow through with his plan anymore. If she came close to him again like that, he doubted he could push her away again. Hell, it was hard enough now to walk on knowing she was behind him, every step seeming to take extra strength. His mind wasn't helping either, constantly replaying every word she had ever spoken to him, every time she had ever touched him, especially that last time. But he just had to make it through tonight. Just this night’s meeting, he had to be cold and arrogant and cruel just this one more night, push her away for a few more hours, then it would be done. Then she'd be safe from him. Maybe he could tell her afterwards, send her an owl, tell her how much this hurt, how much he wished he could have just indulged in that kiss. But the mark on his
arm burned with ever growing anger and even though hurting her like this was torture, it was nothing compared to what the Dark Lord would do to both of them if he found out. Draco walked away, forcing himself to take every step, bracing himself for the night’s meeting. He had to make Jasmin Dissatin believe she was nothing to him while his heart screamed at him to do everything but.
Chapter Twelve Jasmin wasn't sure why she actually came to stand underneath the Griffin at midnight. Draco would come or not come without her, she was no longer needed. Maybe she needed closure. Needed to know whether he cared for her or if it had all been elaborate play and illusion. She wondered if Draco was already there, considering her only purpose was to bring him. At that moment he turned a corner and strode towards her, all silver confidence. Gone was that helpless look, gone was the fear. He stopped beside her, turning his attention to the griffin. "You know the password, Dissatin?� Her voice sounded weak over the sound of her breaking heart, but Jasmin ignored it. This wasn't the end. Sure, he had toyed with her emotions, had played with her hopes and had smashed them on rock bottom, but she wasn't done yet. She was going to get him to safety, no matter what he had done to her, he deserved that much. Afterwards she could let nature take its course. But not just yet. With trembling fingers she tied a knot on the mask of subtle concern, fastening it around her face tightly. She opened the door to Dumbledore's office without knocking, her own carelessness frightening her beyond bounds. Carelessness was always the first symptom. Inside were Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody, both looking at her, their gaze immediately shifting to the boy striding into the room when Malfoy shoved past her. Jasmin remained by the open door, not exactly knowing whether she was supposed to stay or leave. "Mr. Malfoy. I am very glad you have come to your senses before seriously injuring someone with your attempts on my life." "A cursed necklace, boy? Who were you trying to kill, Madame Maxime?" At Moody's comment Jasmin sensed Draco tensing with anger. but Moody didn't, continuing happily before either her or Dumbledore's warning glances could stop him. "You're as clumsy as your father when killing, got that from him alright." Jasmin saw Draco draw breath, but she was quicker than his insult. "Draco, don't," she warned him softly. But she had underestimated his temper. After an odd second that seemed like the calm before the storm he whirled around, his face twisted in an anger foreign to her. "Don't you fucking tell me what to do," he growled, his voice a wave of rolling thunder clashing all around her. Jasmin shrank back and felt tears welling up to her eyes. She hadn't wanted to cry
again, but that dark fire burning in his eyes and on his tongue terrified her. Her whole body trembled, and she felt like a child again with her father raging over her like a thunderstorm. "I'm just trying to help," she whispered, a whisper being all her voice could manage right now. "And see where that got me, very well done, Dissatin. You didn't fucking help, you handed me from one Slaver to the next. And probably killed my family at that!" His screaming echoed around her and Jasmin was barely able to comprehend the words he was flinging at her. But even those that would not make sense to her panicking knife cut with silver blades, right into the heart she had just patched up. As the blood started to dwell from the fresh cuts, Jasmin ran. She didn't even wait for the griffin to take her down, she just flew down the stairs, her legs barely able to keep up with her minds frantic pace. Jasmin ran, ran from her thoughts, ran faster and faster, out of the castle onto the grounds, further and further away from the lights behind her. Faster and faster she forced herself onwards, trying to outrun her thoughts, to outrun the obvious conclusions drawn from what had just happened. Jasmin ran from Draco Malfoy who truly couldn't care less for her. *** Draco drew a few deep breaths before he had steadied himself enough, before he had forced the image of her crying terrified face far enough out of his mind to face the two men before him. Both older men watched in awe as his body-language changed like water, the arrogance and confidence melting off him, leaving only a terrified boy with a purpose. Dumbledore watched the change, impressed, then he addressed the boy before him. "That wasn't very kind, Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Dissatin is very sensitive to such things." Draco couldn't bring it over himself to lie, to smile, so he simply nodded, not bothering to hide the guilt that rode his soul. "I know. Trust me, Professor, I never wanted to hurt her like this. But like this she will stay away from me, and nobody will associate her with me." Impressed, Moody nodded. "You're a clever little kid. Once you're gone, nobody will ask her, and she won't have to lie. Smart thinking." Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes, smart indeed. Even for a Slytherin you show an extraordinary resourcefulness, Mr. Malfoy. However, I fear you have overlooked something this time." "And what would that be, eh?" Moody inquired. "Ms. Dissatin was clearly distraught at your display. The past has shown clearly that it is best not to leave her alone with this kind of turmoil, and right now, she is more alone than she has ever been. Draco, when this is over, I want you to go looking for her, make sure she is alright." Draco opened his mouth to argue, to explain how that would ruin his plan to protect her, but Dumbledore silenced him. "I can think of your concerns, and I can assure you, all of them will be taken care of. Allistor, if you please." Moody nodded his ugly head and looked at Draco with his real eye, his magical one fixed on the wall behind which were the grounds. "Listen up, boy. You'll need to let your parents know when exactly they are to use floopowder to get to the safe-house. We'll redirect them, the first stop for all of you to meet up is your mothers old home. Make sure they can make it in three nights time." Draco nodded. "Three nights time, floopowder, mom's place. Understood." He turned to Dumbledore. "But sir, if I go to Jasmin now..." Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed, she will not be able to stay at Hogwarts, that is right. Moody, if you could give us a minute." Moody nodded and limped past Draco through the door, closing it behind him. A soft sadness shadowed the sparkling eyes of the old wizard as Draco turned to him. "Jasmin has troubles with staying awake, as she calls it. It is a problem both she and I yet have to find a solution to. However, if my eyes have not fooled me, she has been a lot more comfortable around you than with any of her friends over the last five years. I have hoped she'd find a friend sooner than now, but I was very happy to see her trust you. It is now essential you do not betray that trust. She will manage to catch up on the things she will miss in school, but her contact to you is vital for her at the moment. I fear for her should you decide to leave her side. She will leave with you, it is the best for both of you. And now please go and find her. Tell her what has been discussed. She needs to be ready to leave as soon as your parents are safe." A cold numbness had spread over Draco as he nodded and raced down the stairs, through the castle, onto the grounds. He barely saw the uneven ground beneath his feet over the image of the two scars hidden beneath the many small ones. Dumbledore didn't know about those, nobody did. What had he done?! Anxiously his eyes swept the grounds, desperate for any sign of her. He
didn't want to call her name, not wanting to draw any attention to them. He had to find her, had to help her. He wasn't sure what would happen if he didn't get to her in time, but something about the way his chest fluttered in panic told him there was no after. Draco stumbled around in the darkness, his panic searing ever higher with every minute that passed. But for once, Fortuna seemed to smile down on him. He found her. She had curled up against a rock that hid her from the view of the castle, her hands clutching at her shoulders, her nails digging into her skin through her robes. Her body shook with silent sobs and Draco cursed himself a thousand-fold. He couldn't even remember the reasons he had given himself to justify hurting her like this. His knees were giving away under him anyway, so he knelt down beside her. His hand trembled as he lifted it, wanting to comfort her. He was pretty sure he had no right to the feelings her touch would grant him, but as long as it helped her, he would have cut his own hand off. She froze as she felt the touch on her shoulder, whimpering as he slid his hand down her back, bringing him closer to her until he sat beside her. She lifted her head and he caught a glimpse of puffy brown eyes before she winced and curled up again. He gently rubbed her back, hoping his touch might comfort her the way hers could comfort him. They sat there in silence, her breathing slowly steadying, evening out. *** "Go away, Draco," Jasmin whispered hoarsely. Pain was still flowering in her soul, she didn't need any more of it. She couldn't take both the pain of his angry face and the sweet sweet hope that arose with his touch. She knew very well how fragile her soul was, she couldn't let him play with it any longer, not if she wanted to keep herself from shattering. "Jasmin..." She froze. It was the first time he had ever called her that. And his voice was so soft, so full of pain and sorrow. She wanted to keep looking down, not move that he might actually leave, it would be better probably for both of them. But the heart is a soft and selfish thing, it does not care for the worries of the mind. So Jasmin found herself looking up and meeting grey eyes stormy with emotion. "What the hell are you doing here?" Confusion and despair carried the words over her tongue. She didn't get what was going on anymore. Why was he here? What more did he think he could
get out of her? Was he just here to raise her hopes again? She wanted to be angry, furious because of how he'd hurt her, but the fire didn't come, not when his face reflected the pain she felt, not when his hand cradled her face like that. It was pathetic how desperate she was for his touch, his affection, but Jasmin no longer had the strength in her to fight it. Not tonight. Tonight she was exhausted and hurt and tired, she had no power left to keep herself in check. "I had to make sure you're alright." Confused, Jasmin furrowed her eyebrows. He didn't care for her, he had made that quite clear. But before she could muster up the energy to tell him to shut it and quit toying with her, he kept talking, his words fast and frantic, as if he had to get as many thoughts out to her as he could. "I'm sorry for what I did back there. Also for how I acted in the bathroom. I know I hurt you and I hate that I did. I just thought, if the Order actually managed to hide us, what would happen to you? If you were close to me when I disappeared, they would question you and hurt you. I didn't want that. I'm so sorry for what I did, I never wanted this." The tears had died down, and hope erased the pain in her chest. "Then what did you want?" Her voice was small and quiet, pushing the question into the air where it hung shivering, unsure whether it really wanted an answer. Jasmin saw the thoughts race behind his eyes but was distracted when he came closer to her. When his lips once more brushed over hers, her resolve to push him away crumbled. His touch was so warm against the cold nights air, his kiss so soft compared to that of the blade. Like her resolve, Jasmin melted. "This," he murmured. "I have never cared about anyone like I do for you. I want you to be safe. And that wasn't going to happen near me, no matter how much I want you there." "And now?" A little smile tugged on his lips. "Dumbledore said you could come with us. He said it was important that you're not alone." True. Being alone had worked out so far, but it wasn't going to any longer. Not with the other options being so much better. She wouldn't have made it much longer on her own, and somehow, that now mattered. Staying alive had become important, her life somehow had gained value. Now that this closeness was possible, now that he was possible, death had become something she feared. "Then it's good you're here I guess," she smiled and let her fingers wander over the skin of his neck. "He says I can come with you?" Draco nodded, and Jasmin hated the dark thoughts that
were about to shatter his smile. "I don't think that will work out though." His smile fell, and Jasmin heard it break on the stone beneath. He shrank away from her, hurt in his eyes. "I won't push you into anything, we can go at your pace." Jasmin smiled at how vulnerable the thought she might not want him made him. It was good to know she wasn't alone with that. "It's not that, although that respect for me proves you are everything I believed you could be. No, I just fear that if your fathers pride cannot bear being saved by a mudblood, he could not live with one." She kept her gaze on him, wanting to catch every twitch of his reaction. For a second he seemed to freeze, then he nodded, slowly, as if he had to force himself to. "Yes, that would be pretty hard for him to accept." His gaze shifted to her and he looked at her with a sense of curiosity. "I have never heard a muggleborn use that term themselves." Jasmin smiled with a hint of sadness. "Wield your enemy’s blades, then you can know where they'll strike," she murmured. "You don't mind?" It was hard to keep the fearful hope out of her voice and Draco smiled an unsure smile. "I should, shouldn't I. Father would want me to. But he wants a lot of things for me that I'm learning to disagree with. And if he doesn't want you, he can go fuck himself." His thumb brushed over her lip and he smiled. "You're the best thing that has happened to me ever since he came back. I couldn't care less for who your parents where as long as it leads to you, right here with me." Jasmin flung her arms around him, her heart glowing with happy content. After a second of frozen surprise, his arms found their way around her and held her close. *** Draco was new to the feeling that coursed through him when he dared to pull Jasmin closer. It was strange to think that his father wanted him to despise her when she was so perfect. No pureblood he had ever met had shown such care towards him as she had over the last months. She had listened and followed him, even when he hadn't known that he needed it. She didn't judge him for the black mark on his arm, no matter how hot it burned. He pulled away softly and Jasmin looked up at him with that strange worry he had yet to get used to. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" Her voice was full of concern and Draco thought his heart would melt. What a strange feeling. He slowly pulled up his sleeve, wincing as the movement put
pressure on the mark that was already throbbing in pain. The blank ink moved slowly and lazily under his skin, sloshing around like a fed snake. Immediately her eyes were drawn to the mark and dread filled his soul. "Are you sure?" he murmured. "What I've done can never be undone. This will never go away." He kept his gaze fixed on her, but to his surprise she didn't think about it or back away. She smiled. One of those beautiful soft melancholic smiles that had that strange air of sadness around them. She too pulled up the sleeve over her left forearm and the scars shimmered silver in the moonlight. "Neither will this."