Realization

Draco sat in one of the compartments on the way back to school with a vacant expression on his face. His cloudy gray eyes were staring out the window, which was showing cheerless plains, covered in a thin coat of snow. On his lap, there was a Daily Prophet newspaper, on the cover of which was his own photo where he was stiffly smiling while holding a trophy in his hands.

The Slytherin boy was thinking about the brief conversation he had with Anastasia after the Dueling Championship had ended.

When the ceremony, where he was awarded a monetary prize (which in Draco's eyes was nothing worth mentioning) as well as the golden trophy of two wands crossing in the middle, was finally concluded and Draco could finally get away from the crowds, cameras, and reporters, he was stopped by the familiar Russian girl.

"Congratulations on the win," Anastasia said with a slightly regretful smile. "I didn't expect for your abilities in Mind Arts to be so advanced despite your family's talent in them. I wish I could say that I underestimated you and that's the reason for my loss… but that would be a lie, wouldn't it?"

Draco silently stared at the girl, who he thought that he completely figured out. Unlike what he expected, she didn't seem resentful – though he knew that she was a good actress and he couldn't take what he saw at face value.

However, despite knowing that the girl could control her emotions pretty well, he still expected her to throw a tantrum, ignore him or otherwise show dissatisfaction at the experienced loss. After all, she was still only a teenager.

As such, Draco was at a loss of words.

Anastasia's bright blue eyes crinkled at the corners as her smile turned foxier after seeing the blond boy's reaction – she really enjoyed overthrowing others' expectations of her.

"It seems that you thought I was just some scheming bitch, huh?" she asked with a light laugh, her hand rising to cover her lips. "No don't say anything, Mr. Gentleman – I can see right through you!" Anastasia said when she saw Draco opening his mouth to protest out of reflex.

The blond boy could only wait for her to finish what she wanted to say. Anyway, it wasn't like his thoughts were different from what she had guessed…

It was just voicing these thoughts out, however true they might be, made people ashamed of secretly having them being correctly pointed out.

It could be considered as another strategy of manipulation – a guilty person would always jump out to protest, while the innocent one would ignore the accusations without bothering to blink an eye.

"Why did you come to see me?" finally asked Draco after a lengthy silence.

The Russian girl quietly sighed and stepped slightly closer. The elegant smell of her perfume permeated the air, making it seem as though Draco was standing in the middle of a field of flowers, instead of an empty corridor which led to the competitors' changing rooms.

"I just wish for you to know – I view you as a friend… at least more than anyone else in this competition. I might have tried to manipulate you here and there, but you dealt with it surprisingly well. Next time, I hope I can see you in a ballroom instead of a dueling arena," Anastasia playfully winked and went past him.

'This girl really makes it her job to confuse the hell out of other people!' Draco thought with some frustration as he turned around.

"Are you really Rasputin's daughter?" he asked the question which hadn't left his mind for the past two days.

The usually graceful girl, who was in the middle of her elegant retreat, almost tripped over her feet when she heard Draco's words.

She quickly straightened herself out and turned around, only to incredulously stare into Draco's eyes with a corner of her mouth slightly twitching. Seeing the complete seriousness on the blond boy's face, she finally couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.

"Oh, ha-ha-ha! Oh, Merlin, oh- I can't-! Ha-ha-ha…" Anastasia clutched her stomach and almost cried from laughing so hard.

"…"

Draco could only stare at the strange girl dumbfoundedly and wonder – was his question really so funny? Or did he suddenly become a comedian when he wasn't aware of it?

The blond boy examined himself to make sure that the girl wasn't laughing because he suddenly sprouted feathers or anything like that. Seeing that he was fine, Draco could only silently wait for Anastasia to calm down.

Five minutes later…

"Oh, I didn't think that this rumor reached even international circles," Anastasia finally calmed down and said while brushing her eyes from a few teardrops with a handkerchief which Draco so considerately extended. "The Dark Lord and I aren't blood-related, as far as I am aware. The Nobility just likes to create various stories, seeing that he visits my family's manor quite often…"

"Oh? Then would you mind telling me the reason for your closeness with him?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's. A. Secret," Anastasia slowly said with a wink at the end whilst enunciating every word. "But, since you made me laugh so much, I will give you a hint – the Dark Lord thinks that I am very talented in a certain area."

'A certain area?' Draco unconsciously mouthed. His mind immediately flew to slightly inappropriate thoughts because of the wording.

But she's only thirteen!

And the Dark Lord is what… over a hundred???

Draco suddenly sensed a hint of danger. His eyes immediately focused on the present, only to see Anastasia playfully rolling her wand in her hands.

"Mr. Gentleman, you sure seem to have some ungentlemanly thoughts in your head…" the Russian girl's foxy smile turned slightly predatory.

Draco released a light cough and returned to the previous topic.

"So the Dark Lord appreciates your magical talent, huh?" he asked while avoiding looking into the girl's eyes.

Anastasia stared at him considerately for a moment and finally replied: "You could say it like that. But, as it involves the Dark Lord's secrets – it will be dangerous for you to know more. So, Mr. Gentleman, do refrain from prying from now on."

These were the last words she said before leaving.

---

"Draco, we are here," Hannah gently shook the boy's shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Unbeknownst to him, the train has finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station and students were leaving for the thestral-drawn carriages.

Draco nodded and exited the compartment together with his friends, following the rest of the students out.

Ever since he had won the European Juniors' Championship, he had received a lot of letters from his friends, acquaintances, year-mates as well as people he never knew existed. The one question that most of them asked was: 'Where did you learn how to duel?'

This question was usually followed by: 'Can you teach me?', 'Who allowed you to compete?' and the killer one – 'Can you help me with my homework?'.

Even third-years sent him letters asking him to help with the spell-work, magical theory or other things, which Draco had no intention of doing.

Because of his sudden popularity rise in Britain, which was no longer a country well-known for its amazing duelers, it was no wonder that Draco was once again the target of everyone's attention and discussions in the Great Hall.

"Have you seen the newspapers over the holiday? A Slytherin first-year won an international dueling competition in Under-14 section! Ahhh! I should have also competed – the competition this year seems to have been easy!" lamented one Ravenclaw to his group of friends.

Another one snorted:

"Do you only read headlines? It's no wonder your House ranking is almost at the bottom! Malfoy dueled with previous year's champion in the Finals! You run away screaming every time you see Peeves with a bucket of paint – and you think you can duel? It would be an embarrassment to Hogwarts if you stepped up on the arena because people would think that there's no one better than you in our school!"

The group of students started laughing at the loudmouthed Ravenclaw, who was rapidly turning red.

"And you think that sending out a first-year as one of the school's best is not an embarrassment?!" he shouted out angrily and left in a huff.

Other students were having similar conversations between themselves. At the Hufflepuff table one of the fourth-years' consolingly patted on another boy's shoulder.

"Diggory, you will have your chance in the future. So what if some slimy Slytherin won in his first year? You have competed in the Youths' competition for the first time – it's a lot harder than Juniors' duels and you will definitely become a Champion next year or in the Summer Competition!"

Cedric Diggory ruefully smiled and replied:

"I couldn't even become the winner of my Group and enter the top 6. More than that – I could barely defeat three opponents before being taken out by that Brazilian girl! Let's not even talk about the Youths' competition – last year when I participated in the Juniors' Championship and dueled with Anastasia Vasilieva, I could barely hold on for three minutes before being knocked out! But this year, a first-year won against the same opponent!"

The surrounding Hufflepuffs speechlessly shared glances between themselves and could only carry on patting the boy's shoulder with consolation. If Cedric wanted to pity himself, then who were they to contradict him?

The Gryffindor table was much more boisterous in comparison.

"I can't believe that a Slytherin brought glory to our school! Where were we, the brave and awesome Gryffindors?" one of the Weasley twins' stood up and asked seriously.

"Yeah, where were you, Ronniekins! You are also a first-year! Go and beat that slimy Slytherin's pale ass in red color, so that he would remember us forever!" continued the other twin.

"And ever," solemnly ended the first one.

Ron's face rapidly turned red – it was like magic. Seeing that many heads turned in his direction, he could only shoot angry glares at his stupid brothers while pretending that they were talking to someone else.

However, the twins' pointed stares in his direction made Ron's efforts completely useless. Finally, he couldn't hold out and yelled:

"If you want for the Gryffindors to win so much, then why haven't you gone to compete?!"

Many more eyes turned to stare in the redhead's direction, however, he completely ignored them and went back to scowling into his mashed potatoes.

"Alright, alright! Sheesh, who would have thought that he is so grouchy?" complained Fred to his brother while shaking his head with lamentation.

"Indeed, he must have caught it from Aunt Muriel or Percy," replied George as he hurriedly pulled his twin away, as though Ron had an infectious disease.

However, the younger redhead was pretending to be deaf and mute – growing up with them made him immune to their antics (to some extent).

Unlike everyone else, Draco couldn't get into a lively mood which was surrounding him from all sides. It was probably because of the stares, which were directed his way - as though studying a rare and mysterious animal.

The blond boy sighed and raised his head while confidently meeting the eyes of the onlookers and raising an eyebrow at them, as though asking: 'Are you done with staring at me?'.

Just as he was about to go back to his meal after scaring quite a few students, Draco's gray eyes clashed with a pair of familiar blue ones.

The fork, which Draco had been holding, dropped to the ground as a sudden thought entered his mind.

Could it be?...

---

The Great Hall was as lively as ever and Hogwarts seemed to hum with happy magic as students returned to its premises after the short winter holiday.