XXI

Perhaps it was the end.

Perhaps it was the beginning.

Maybe it was even the middle. Who cared? Draco didn't. It had occurred to him a long time ago that the world was always trying to rid itself of him with each passing day. Today, it had succeeded.

He fell slowly into a growing darkness, as if the water was taunting him for believing he had strength over it. Fish and creature alike ignored him as he sank; air leaving his body bubble by bubble. It was the plants who hugged him coldly, wrapping themselves around his ankles and pulling him towards them. Tiredness rushed into him like air into a vacuum, and Draco's eyes began to close.

It was then that the warmth began. It started from above him and spread all around him, making everywhere bright and hot, as if the sun had come down to kiss him goodbye. It grew so hot that he began to feel as though he were being boiled alive.

His eyes fluttered open.

A bright light hovered just above him, holding him in white, hot arms of light; as if it was checking if he was still alive. It was the patronus from his dream; the one that had rescued him as he drowned. There, like in the dream, were the pair of glowing amber eyes, staring back at him.

Of course, he thought; they were her eyes.

The warmth found its way into his body, and as he watched, his body began to lit up until it was a glowing white like hers. He found his breath again, and the blurriness all around him cleared up.

Everything became sharper and clearer and crispier. It was as if he had been given the energy of a phoenix and then thrown amongst the stars. He looked around them. There was clear, blue water for as far as his eye could see. It was as if all the life around the two of them had suddenly vapourised into nothing – who would dare venture into their presence?

To anyone who might have suddenly felt the urge or had the chance to look upon the lake, they would see the fish swimming about in a circle, keeping a mile's radius from whatever that was the bubbling, shining light in the middle of that circle. Perhaps they would, if they were hovering about twenty feet in the air, but no one could even fathom what was happening, except for the fishermen in Hogsmeade that experienced a sudden windfall.

He held out a hand, curious to see what would happen if they touched hands. She seemed to hear him and stretched out her hand in turn. Their fingers barely touched, and a ring of light spewed forth from the contact. The light around their bodies dimmed and dimmed, until the only thing the sirens swore they could see were a pair of glowing gold eyes and a pair of glowing white eyes staring at each other.

Then Draco took her hand, and pulled them up towards the surface.

When they broke the surface, neither of them gasped for air, as if it were perfectly normal for one to breath under water. Draco's eyes felt warm, like warm honey, and he was sure it was because they were glowing. He looked at Hether. He didn't know whether to be excited or to be shocked or to be upset with her for abandoning him. He chose the last.

"Why'd you leave?" he splashed water at her to let her know that he wasn't angry with her.

"Because you were right." She wiped water away from her face?

"What?" He said, caught off-guard.

"You were right. Hermione is unto us." She avoided his eyes. "She thinks we're either death eaters or well on our way to becoming one. Because we're often together."

"That mudblood," Draco's voice seeped with irritation. "'thinks she's so entitled to know everything. What's she; the Hogwarts' chaperone?"

"That's not a nice word, Draco." Hether shook her head. "We should head back. It's getting late."

She dived back beneath the surface of the lake and he followed suit, his fear of water long gone.

On the other side of the castle, Grega was terribly upset. In fact, upset wasn't the word to describe it. She was furious; seething with rage, to the extent that Cho believed she would certainly explode the next second.

Cho was getting worried. She had queried Grega for the past five minutes, but the girl refused to spill what the problem was. Instead, she had resorted to pacing the room heatedly, such that Cho was almost afraid she would wear the rug out.

Suddenly, the door was flung open, and both Grega turned sharply to see who it was. A pang of fear ran through Cho's heart when she saw who it was.

"What do you want?" Grega snapped irritably.

Blaise arched an eyebrow and threw a bundle of robes on the floor. Cho craned her neck to see what it was. The bundle of robes shifted and Grega let out a short but shrill scream. To Cho's surprise, it was the girl with the infection. She gasped. If anyone knew or heard that Grega let her in her room…

"Is this some kind of sick joke?!" She yelled at the heir, who chuckled. "You think this is funny? Get this… get her out of here now!!"

"What are you going to do about it?" Blaise folded his arms and stood in the doorway, blocking the only exit excepting the window.

"This isn't funny, Blaise." Cho lifted her eyes from the girl on the floor, who refused to even move. "Get her out of here, or I'll curse you."

Blaise's brown eyes lit up with fury and she stumbled back. He took three quick and menacing steps towards her and stood in her face, towering over her; his face drawn with lines of fury.

"You?" He spat out in a clipped tone. "Curse me? You couldn't even curse a fly. You can't even keep your lips shut because you're mucking over blessed Harry Potte-"

"Piss off, Zabini." Grega wedged herself between the two of them as Cho turned a very deep red. She spun on her heels so they wouldn't see her cry. Everyone still felt as though it were their duty to remind her that she snitched on the D.A. – even though she was under a truth spell. It was painful enough that Harry refused to talk to her after that. "What's the meaning of all this?"

Their voices droned out as the two began to hurl heated words back and forth. Cho sat on her bed and faced the window. For a split second all she wanted was just to curl up in a ball and cry. But even if she did there would be that one person waiting tomorrow for the perfect opportunity to call her a snitch and probably even jinx her books to fly around like snitches.

Her face went even redder as she remembered running after her books, tears streaming down her face while everyone else laughed until a prefect forced Caliban to remove the jinx. It was humiliating, and it made her want to fling herself from the top of the school and bury herself in the biggest ditch she could find.

The split second of surrender passed as the thought of humiliation entered her mind, and Cho scanned the room with her eyes. Her fears became quickly realised. The girl had escaped. Why wouldn't she? She had probably been dragged halfway across the school from her way to Hufflepuff, and had been forced onto the floor in front of one of the people who made her feel like scum, as a sick joke.

If Cho were her, it would probably have been the last straw. A higher jump made for a quicker end, after all.

"Can you both shut up?" Cho whipped around and grabbed her coat. She ignored the daggers Blaise was shooting her as if she, a mere speck of dust in his world, had dared to disturb his lunch. She didn't care. She wasn't going to let another student of Hogwarts die. Not on her watch.

"What is it?" Grega frowned.

"The girl's gone."

"Her name's Veja." Grega said as if it was the most obvious of things. It wasn't.

"Whatever. You've both done a good job of adding to her humiliation. Guess what? You just broke the last straw." Cho marched to the door.

"Are you trying to say she's going to jump?" Blaise cut in, and Cho turned sharply to face him. She was done with his unwarranted crap.

"If I were humiliated like that, every day for the past four years, then yes." She said pointedly at him. "Understand this – if she dies, we will all be expelled."