Not sure why it rated this as Mature!! Sorry for the wait! It's my holidays and I've been off enjoying myself =D Anyways, this is a LONG update to make up for it. Not as exciting as previous parts but the next update will make up for it! Enjoy! The ending is the best bit and I hope you like Opal's letter, it was funny writing it!


Draco pushed the crumpled duvet off his body and stepped out of his four poster bed, walking over to his window. His hands came to rest against the cold glass, as though he wished to break out, his grey eyes flickering longingly over the scene outside. The bony branches of skeletal trees reached up to a pale sky, choked with thick white clouds. The tops of the neatly trimmed evergreen hedges, around the Malfoy manor, sparkled with flecks of frost. Such cold, cold beauty.

A shiver trickled slowly down Draco’s spine, his head fell and his eyes crossed to his arm. His gaze almost, almost fell upon the fresh Dark Mark upon his arm, but before he could view the scorched skin he ripped his eyes away. He glanced at the sealed letter on his desk, he still hadn’t sent it.




“Shade! Wake up!”

“Hrrr.” Shade groaned and rolled over, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“C’mon! We’re going to Hogsmeade! We need to get out of this castle before we go insane!” Opal yelled, tugging her best friend’s hand.

Shade’s arm jerked upwards and with a loud ‘thump’ she fell out of bed onto the floor. Shade lifted her head, from where she sat and glared at Opal.

“If anything drives me insane this holiday, it’ll be YOU!”

Opal merely flashed her a devilish grin and rolled her eyes, helping Shade to get up.

“Oh, stop complaining! Now go and get ready!”

“I don’t want to go out!” Shade muttered, turning back to her bed.

She didn’t feel in the mood to do anything. She hadn’t heard from Draco for days. Had he forgotten her already?

Opal dived at Shade before she could collapse in her bed once more, snatching her and steering her towards the girl’s bathroom.

“Get ready!” She ordered. “Today will you cheer you up, I promise!”

“I don’t NEED cheering up!” Shade said sourly, frowning.

“Yeah, right!” Opal snorted, “You look about as happy as Harry Potter every time Professor Trelawney used to predict his imminent death!”

Shade smiled grudgingly and stuck her tongue out in a childish manner.

“Fine! I’m going, I’m going!” She said, shuffling to the bathroom.




It was the day before Christmas Eve and Opal had seen Shade growing more miserable as the days passed, with no contact from Draco. She felt a pang of sympathy for her friend every time she woke in the morning and rushed to check if there was mail for her. There never was. Opal, on the other hand, had been receiving letters from Cirron nearly every day.

So, Opal had brought her friend down to Hogsmeade to find dresses for the Christmas Ball. It was held each year, at the end of the Christmas Holidays, when all the students came back to Hogwarts, a final celebration before classes started again.

“I’m so excited, Shade!” Opal beamed as they stepped into another shop. “I mean, this is going to be the first Ball I’ve gone to with an actual boyfriend!”

Shade frowned softly and turned around from the rack of dresses she was looking at.

“Erm…excuse me, First Year...weren’t you swearing your undying love for Anthony Goldstein?”

Opal scowled. “We were together for one day, Shade! That’s a date, not a boyfriend.”

“Mmhmm.” Shade muttered, suppressing a laugh. “What about Second Year...the scandal of Terry Boot and Michael Corner...you said you’d go to the ball with both of them!”

Opal avoided Shade’s teasing grin and focused a little too enthusiastically on the rack of dresses in front of them. After a moment she turned back to her friend and threw her hands up.

“I couldn’t say no! You know I don’t like letting people down!” Opal whined, “Besides, they both ended up mad at me and I didn’t dance with either of them…so they definitely don’t count as boyfriends!”

Shade stepped a little way away from her best friend and with a laugh whispered,

“Fourth Year...Roger Davies..."

Opal glared at her furiously, dumping the dress she was holding back on the rack, and let out a little choking sound.

“A temporary moment of insanity! We were simply...testing the boundaries of our friendship and we then mutually decided that we were, in fact, far better off as just friends.” She concluded weakly.

“You went out for a week. That’s like the longest time you’ve ever stuck with a boy, bar Cirron of course.” Shade added hastily.

“He’s a nice guy! That’s why we’re friends with him, remember? It’s just...he’s a little...too preoccupied with himself sometimes.”

“A little? Opal, Roger would be happiest going out with his own reflection!”

Opal laughed grudgingly and shook her head, to tell Shade to stop making fun of their friend.

“Come on, stop analyzing my love life and concentrate! We’re meant to be finding dresses here!”

Shade shrugged, diverting her attention to the rack they were looking at and sighed hopelessly.

“Well show me some dresses then, because all I can see are disasters...things that look as if they were designed by Bellatrix Lestrange while she was in Azkaban.”

Opal hiccupped with laughter and ran her eyes over the dresses.

Her gaze was assaulted with an explosion of mismatching colours. Vivid green taffeta adorned with clashing bright pink ribbons. Sickening mustard yellow gowns, long sleeved with cuffs of lace. Watery pink dresses puffed out like huge messes of candy floss and chipped sequins glared horribly on most of the bodices. Opal doubted if any of it would have been fashionable even when her great-grandmotherwas alive.

“Okay, so Hogsmeade isn’t exactly Paris, London or New York.” She laughed, “But we’ll figure something out. For now, let’s get out of here before I go blind!”

Shade laughed and willingly let her friend drag her from the shop, over to the Three Broomsticks across the road. The small pub was packed, shoppers stopping in for a drink before heading out to pick up last minute Christmas presents. They weaved their way through a crowd of witches and wizards, finding a small gap at the bar and ordering a couple of butterbeers.

They scanned the pub for somewhere to sit, as Opal held the drinks and Shade pulled her coat off. The heat inside the room was deadly, the fire roaring away and the mass of bodies only adding to the warmth.

“Shade! Opal! Over here!”

The two girls looked to see Harry waving enthusiastically at them and they barged their way through several students to sit with the Golden Trio. Most of the stools were gone and Shade had to squeeze up next to Harry, feeling slightly uncomfortable about it.

“Christmas shopping?” Hermione asked them as they sipped on their drinks.

“Nope, did all that already! We were looking for dresses for the Christmas Ball.”

“Any luck?”

Opal grimaced. “We should have learnt our lesson from last year. Buy your dress before you come back to Hogwarts for the new year.”

Hermione laughed. “I know what you mean...I think every shop here has had the same dresses for the past five years. I’m sure you’ll both sort something out though.”

“Mmm.” Shade murmured a little disbelievingly.

“So, Harry. Who are you taking to the Ball?” Opal asked suddenly, running her finger around the rim of her glass.

Harry diverted his eyes to the table and shrugged, fiddling with his hands.

“Erm, not sure yet.”

“Well, you should ask Shade then!” She announced.

There was a short, sharp coughing noise as Shade nearly choked on her drink and her glass slammed back down onto the table, still spluttering slightly. When she caught her breath she scowled at Opal, aware that her cheeks were growing extremely hot.

“I...have a boyfriend...remember, Opal?” She hissed sharply.

It seemed Opal was never going to give up trying to change things.

“Yeah. But he hasn’t exactly made the effort to ask you to the Ball-”

“I’m sure he’s planning to when he comes back!” Shade objected, aware that Harry looked as uncomfortable as her.

“Well, he hasn’t even bothered to write to you yet...so I think you’re entitled to accept invitations from someone else. Since he can’t be bothered to make an effort.” Opal said a little coldly, picking her butterbeer up once more and sipping at it.

Shade scowled horribly, she didn’t want people knowing that he hadn’t bothered to write to her...she knew what they all already thought of him. She didn’t want their views encouraged.

“He’s been busy.” She muttered weakly.

The site of Ron, across the table, with his arm draped protectively over Hermione’s shoulder made her frown even more. She missed Draco desperately and it hurt so badly to think that he didn’t even care enough to respond to her letters.

“Don’t worry. I won’t ask you!” Harry laughed suddenly, giving her a friendly nudge and smiling encouragingly at her.

“Complete prat if you ask me.” Ron muttered across the table.

Shade’s head jerked up and she glared at the red-headed boy furiously.

“What is this? Anti-Draco day!”

“Shade, all we’re saying is that he doesn’t exactly make much effort does he? You’re supposed to be his girlfriend!” Opal said bluntly, pushing her empty glass away from her.

Shade felt an angry pain throb inside of her, she knew her friend was only looking out for her, but she hated the way everyone was so quick to judge Draco.

“You’re the ones not making an effort. You don’t even know the guy but you’re ready to pass judgment like that!” She said, snapping her fingers together as a demonstration.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group, the air thick with hesitation, each unsure of what to say, yet no one ready to apologize.

“Well...I’d at least take a minute out from my incredibly busy schedule to write to my girlfriend, if I were him.” Opal said after a while, rolling her eyes.

“Well you’re not Draco, so stop putting yourself in his shoes!” Shade snapped back.

“Look, you’re my best friend, Shade. It just irritates me to hell to see how he’s treating you. And, it irritates me even more seeing how you’re so willing to take it!”

Shade exhaled slowly, her breath seeming to quiver. She stood up from the table and pulled her coat on hastily.

“When you’re all quite done with insulting my boyfriend, feel free to come and speak to me. For now, I’ll leave you in peace to have your bitching session!” She hissed angrily, stalking out of the Three Broomsticks.




Draco ate dinner alone that night, his arm itching horribly, but he still refused to lay eyes upon the marking. When he came back up he noticed a letter on his desk, the handwriting unfamiliar. He closed his open bedroom window first, trying to shut out the cold that was creeping into the large room. Then, he walked back across to his desk, sinking into his chair and lifted the letter.

“Loser. It’s Opal.

Get your priorities sorted and write to Shade. She’s going insane. She’s been miserable every day since you left! Stop treating my best friend like this and have some decency and show her that you’re still interested. I shouldn’t have to tell you any of this. You should know how to treat your own girlfriend but, since you’re obviously a novice at it, I thought I’d give you a few tips free of charge.

Also, the Christmas ball is happening after the holidays, remember that thing where people dance and have a good time? Shade doesn’t have an official date yet…hint hint. Plus, Hogsmeade has about as many nice dresses as Pansy Parkinson’s wardrobe. Think you could pick something gorgeous up for Shade? I’ve written her measurements at the bottom of the letter. Being so horribly rich I’m sure you’ve got some idea of what’s fashionable. Have a...pleasant Christmas Malfoy.

Opal.”

Her words were like an electric shock to his system. He hadn’t thought about how much he was hurting Shade by not responding to her letters, even if he hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Draco felt his stomach churn sickeningly and he placed the letter back on his desk. He had to put this right.

He felt as though he was the last person in the world who deserved Shade Greystone. He was a killer. But Draco wasn’t going to let that put him off. He wanted her to know exactly how much he cared about her.

He grabbed some parchment and a quill, depositing a small glass bottle of ink into his trouser pocket. Draco was off to find his magnificent eagle owl. As he swung open his bedroom door his mother’s tall, slender figure came to face to face with his own.

“Where are you going, Draco? You have practice now, you know that!”

Draco sidestepped her and walked into the hallway, a cozy warmth emanating off the rich scarlet wallpaper.

“I’m going to write a letter to someone.”

“Draco, come back here this instant! Communication is a waste of time and a complete distraction. This isn’t the time to be gossiping with your friends, you’ve got important magic to practice.”

Draco whirled around on his heel and looked his mother in the eye.

“Gossiping? Mother, I’m not a girl.” He snorted, his fingers curling tighter around the scroll of parchment in his hand.

“Draco follow me.” She moved her arm out elegantly to her side, indicating that he should join her.

Draco did not budge. He flicked a strand of shocking blonde hair out of his pale grey eyes and shook his head.

“No. I’ve got other things to do.”

His mother’s eyes seemed to widen in horror, her muscles tightening.

“Follow me at once, Draco.” She repeated slowly.

Draco took a step forward and his mother’s form relaxed, satisfied. She turned to lead him down to the drawing room but his footsteps did not echo behind hers. Her graceful form twirled around, her blue robes dancing around her as she twisted to face him again.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time. I’ve got other things to do. I’m going to write a letter.” He repeated slowly, his sculptured lips curling into a vicious snarl.

His mother’s eyes narrowed angrily and her jaw tightened as she clenched it.

“You WILL do as I instruct you! You need to practice. You are a Death Eater now!” She spat fiercely at her son, her blue eyes seemed to flare with anger and she grimaced with disgust at her son’s disobedience.

Draco inhaled slowly and shook his head one final time. He had had enough.

“I’m NOT your puppet! YOU CAN’T CONTROL ME! I’M MY OWN PERSON!"

He had not meant to shout, but the words roared from his throat and battered their way through the air, ringing heavily in his mothers ears. His cheeks were flushed a pale red with his rising temper and his mother seemed to take a step backwards in shock. Draco spun on his heel and marched away from her, his fists shaking.

“Draco Malfoy!” His mother screamed after him, her voice piercing the air.

Draco could not help but turn, from years of obedience and instinct.

His mother’s features were contorted into a look of pure fury, her nostrils quivering.

“You are part of the Dark Lord’s army now. You will do exactly as you are asked. You have given yourself to our Dark Lord and you will show him your loyalty.” She whispered softly but the words crept easily down the hallway and sparked loudly in Draco’s ears nonetheless. “And you think you can’t be controlled?” She laughed bitterly, her voice rising. “Your whole life has been taken out of your hands already Draco! The Dark Lord will control you and your family will control you...especially when you can’t even complete a simple task like killing a STUPID OLD MAN!” She howled madly at him.

Draco’s heart skipped a beat in his chest and his brow knitted into a tight frown.

“What?” He whispered.

“You were right. You didn’t kill that man. I didn’t think my own son could be so WEAK! Such an embarrassment! I had to do something before Yaxley declared the Malfoy’s unfit to serve the Dark Lord!”

Draco’s face had fallen, his mouth open, his heart speeding up like a runaway train as he slowly caught on.

“I had to put my own son under the Imperius Curse! I made you murder that man, because you were too weak to just do it yourself!” She snorted bitterly, her nose scrunching up into an accusing look of disgust.

Draco struggled to respond, his palms sweating at his mother’s revelation. He had not killed that man. He hadn’t chosen to. That light-headed feeling, that was him being put under the Imperius curse! His jaw clamped shut, furious not just at his mother’s actions but her words. Her obvious disappointment in him, in his apparent ‘weakness’...could she really hate her own son that much?

“Go to hell.” He hissed and spun around, striding towards the staircase, walking away from his mother’s instructions for the first time in his life.

“You’re part of it now, Draco! You’re part of it all! And unless you want your father tortured by the Dark Lord, you will do everything that’s asked of you!"

His mother’s words echoed down the hallway after him, bouncing off the richly decorated walls.

Please RATE V just down there! =D