Malfoy avoided her in the weeks leading up to the first event of the triwizard tournament. The way she had seen through him startled him. She had peaked through his walls so quickly, it unnerved him. However, unfortunately for him, she was everywhere.
He couldn't stay far enough away from her during Care of Magical Creatures. Somehow a sniff of her honey-lavender shampoo would catch the breeze, and he would be lost in thought about what it might be like to hold her. It was infuriating.
She never approached him, but they exchanged glances everytime they were in the same room. Draco could feel his heart hitch everytime her emerald greens locked on his stoney grey eyes. It was like an electric shock through his body. The reaction always stunned him, causing him to look away. But not before he would catch her small smile, the way she would shyly look down afterwards. His reaction disgusted himself, and he found that anger was the quickest way to shut down the strange emotions.
The first event of the triwizard tournament was approaching, and Malfoy was eager to go, if only to see Potter get his ass handed to him. A small part of him nudged him to admit he was excited he would see her there, but he suppressed it.
Malfoy joined his fellow Slytherins on the walk down to the event, which was held in the lowest part of the grounds. Rumor was they brought dragons, but Malfoy scoffed at the thought. Dragons? At Hogwarts? Yeah, right. Malfoy listened half assed as Blaise and Goyle argued over professional Quidditch teams. Draco was more interested in keeping an eye out for the new Gryffindor girl.
Finally he spotted her emerging from the champions tent. Her clothes were mussed,
And she looked flustered. He picked up his pace, concern rippling through him until the flap of the tent was pushed back and he saw Potter reach out and embrace her.
"Be careful, Harry!" Her voice carried over the few feet separating them. She still hadn't noticed him. The concern that had been building in him switched to silent rage.
Her and Potter. Should have known. Draco snorted, changing directions to head back to Blaise when her voice stopped him, jealousy and anger boiling to the surface.
"Malfoy!" Her voice caught him off guard, and Draco stopped in spite of himself, grinding his teeth. She was back to calling him Malfoy.
"What is it, Dumbledore?" He spat at her as she came prancing up.
She looked taken back by his cross demeanor. She hesitated slightly, her cheeks becoming an adorable pink. "I thought I told you I didn't like going by my surname."
Malfoy shrugged, turning his back to her. "Couldn't care less," he said as he made to walk away from her.
"Hey!" She grabbed his elbow and swung him around.
Malfoy snarled at her, jerking his arm back from her grasp. "What do you want, Dumbledore?"
Dahlia's face turned from concerned too angry as she stomped her foot, amber eyes flashing. "Well, I wanted to see if you wanted to sit with me for the first event, but since you're going to be such an ass I would much rather sit by myself!"
With that she spun on her heel and stormed away, leaving him feeling empty. He cursed, turning and strutting away from her retreating figure, plotting his revenge on Potter as he stormed back to his friends.
"Let's get a seat!" He snapped as he rejoined the Slytherins. His friends looked up, surprised at his snarky tone but complied. They filed into seats on the top row of the makeshift stadium. Malfoy observed the open middle of the arena, which was about the size of four quidditch fields. A rough terrain with rocks made it look almost mountainous, sinking into the earth in places and towering above them in others. At the very center of the circle sat a golden egg in a rocky nest.
"It's dragons for sure," a voice a few rows down carried to his ears. Malfoy turned, and to his disgust found Ron Weasley sitting with his twin idiot brothers, the mudblood, and the absolute imbecile, Longbottom. He opened his mouth to say a smart comment when one of the twins - he never could tell which one - confirmed his brother's statement.
"It's true! Been sworn to secrecy - our brother Charlie's the one that brought them over." The twin said it with pride. Malfoy paled slightly at the realization that that was a true statement; Charlie Weasley was indeed a Dragon Tamer. That meant that there was a very real possibility of truth in the boy's statements.
Before Malfoy could torment the Weasley group, another sight caught his eye, a more shocking one. Sitting a few rows down to his left was Dahlia, and she was giggling with a Hufflepuff boy he recognized as Ernie McMillan.
Jealousy flushed through him, and he almost stood and walked out. As soon as it was there, it left, and he was filled with disgust again. Dahlia was beneath him, and his little obsession with her would die down shortly. Instead, he forced himself to remain plastered to his seat, staring determinedly anywhere but the new couple.
Malfoy barely watched as the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions captured their eggs. He hardly noticed when Cedric Diggory almost got his face burned off, as enjoyable as that would have been. All he could see was red. Every now and then he would notice how Ernie had managed to slip his arm around Dahlia's shoulders, or how anytime the dragon got too close for comfort he would tuck her into his chest.
Finally, the last competitor was up. Of course it was Potter. Despite his longstanding feud with the Gryffindor, Draco found himself hoping that Harry beat this quickly so he wouldn't have to look at the disgusting scene in front of him any longer.
All was going well; Harry had summoned his broom, which even Malfoy would admit he was impressed by. Everything was fine until Harry managed to snag the Golden Egg, and shot into the sky on his Firebolt. The dragon, however, was not willing to admit defeat so quickly. It opened its wings, and snapped the chains holding it to the ground. It flapped until it was hovering a few feet about the stands. With a might roar the dragon reared its head, and released a stream of fire from its mouth.
Malfoy saw the whole thing as though in slow motion. He jumped from his seat, vaulting over the rows of chairs and people beneath him. He grabbed Dahlia from her seat, and before she had a chance to question him he pulled her to the ground beneath the bleachers, shouting, "Protego!"
Dahlia laid sprawled across his chest, pressing his back into the ground. His shield charm went up just in time, throwing an invisible wall against the main tunnel of fire that was blasted towards them.
Flames still escaped, lighting the ground and stadium around them. The dragon lost interest in the crowd beneath it, and took to the skies after Potter.
Dahlia was stumbling to her feet. Her face and arms were covered in soot; her hair had gone wild in every which direction. There was a wild look in her eye that Draco recognized as panic. Before she could break down Malfoy jumped to his feet, and pulled her into his chest.
"Are you okay?" The words fell from his mouth as his hands ran down her back and arms, feeling for injuries. He was shaking; he couldn't stop shaking.
"I-I'm fine," Dahlia stammered. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and Malfoy felt a wave of relief wash over him. She was okay. As soon as that realization hit him he immediately detached her from his body, recoiling in disgust at his actions. She opened her mouth to protest, but Malfoy turned on his heel and strode away.
Malfoy observed the atmosphere around him as he made his way through the destroyed stadium. Ministry officials and professors were scrambling around, escorting students to safety and extinguishing fires. Even more wizards had taken after the dragon. Even as he angrily cursed himself for his unusual display of emotion, Malfoy found himself secretly hoping Potter escaped that dragon. After this encounter, he wouldn't wish death by dragon on anyone.
__________________________________________________________________________
That night, Dahlia went out searching for Draco. Somehow he always seemed to find her, so she slipped out of her Gryffindor common room just after midnight. She was headed down the stairs towards the dungeon when familiar footsteps behind her stopped her.
"Going somewhere, Miss Dumbledore?" the headmaster voice rang out, sounding slightly amused.
Dahlia huffed, turning to face her guardian. She didn't dare tell him she was looking for a Slytherin boy, so she said the first thing that came to her head. "Just going for a walk; I couldn't sleep."
"Perhaps instead of a walk we could get some tea? Or I could join you on your stroll."
Dahlia managed to hide her frustration. She really needed to speak to Malfoy; she was tired of the games he had been playing the last few weeks. She'd thought he had been trying to ask her to be friends in his own twisted way, so she had thought that by showing him some kindness he might see she wasn't against that. However, he seemed to think nothing of her - even told her that - yet saves her from the dragon? She needed answers, and she also needed to tell him thank you. Instead, however, she plastered a smile on her face, and offered her hand to her guardian. "It's been a while since we've taken a walk together."
Dumbledore accepted her offer with a smile, and together they exited the castle and strolled down to the gardens. They walked amicably in peace for several minutes before the headmaster broke the spell.
"I believe there was something you wanted to ask me, after your sorting?"
Dahlia glanced up at Dumbledore in shock; she was surprised he remembered. The headmaster chuckled at her look of shock, waggling a finger at her. "I know everything that goes on in Hogwarts, my dear, and I forget nothing."
"Alright then," Dahlia began hesitantly, still slightly off put. Curiosity got the best of her, so she asked, "Did you hear what the Sorting Hat was saying?"
Dumbledore offered her an amused grin. "I am one of the very few that the sorting hat chooses to include in conversations, when it deems necessary."
Dahlia processed this information, her brow crinkling. "You mean it's not normal for you to hear every sorting conversation? You don't hear every student's?"
Albus laughed heartily. "Goodness, no. The conversation between hat and student is private, except in particularly tricky cases. In which, the sorting hat allows me to... listen in. I cannot join the conversation or influence it in any way, but I'm a silent third party nonetheless."
"So I was a particularly tricky case?" Dahlia disliked that wording. Why was she different? Why couldn't the sorting hat just pick a house for her itself? "How many other students have you been allowed to hear?"
Dumbledore hesitated, very slightly, but Dahlia noticed it anyways. She paused, forcing Dumbledore to come to a complete stop next to her. She cocked her head at him, demanding an answer silently. Dumbledore looked down into her eyes as he solemnly said, "Only three, in the past century."
Dahlia's jaw dropped, brows furrowing. That wasn't just uncommon... that was extremely rare.
"What made me so special? What is so different about me that the hat cannot choose a house for me?" Dahlia demanded, turning to her guardian. Confusion fueled her panic - why was she different? "The hat spoke of my mother and father's blood. Does that mean it knows who my parents are?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "The magic of the sorting hat is a mystery, even to me. I do not know for certain, but I believe the sorting hat cannot see your direct genetic makeup. I believe the hat sorts based on your magic, and your family's magic. I think it recognized the traces of your parents' magic in you, and was therefore able to determine what houses from which they came."
Dahlia processed this information, realization dawning on her face. "That means my parents went to Hogwarts?"
Dumbledore hesitated, but answered steadily. "Yes, at some point or another both of your parents would have passed through the school."
Dahlia's eyes lit up, suddenly eager. This meant there would be records of her parents - she just had to find out where to start. "Does this mean we can find out who my parents are?"
Dumbledore patted his wards head kindly, his head shaking sadly. "Dahlia, I've been searching for your parents since the day you arrived, searching for any kind of answer as to why you were here in this time, and what your heritage is."
Dahlia's excitement was extinguished. If Albus had been searching for years, he would have already looked through all Hogwarts records and found nothing. Her face settled into a scowl, hopes dampened.
"Please, trust me when I say, when the time for you to know who your parents are comes, you will know. Do not try to force this matter."
Dahlia rolled her eyes at the words her guardian spoke. While Dumbledore had never hidden from her that she was an orphan, he always shut down conversations about her parents - going so far as to change the conversation entirely. Or, if not, it would always end in a warning to leave it alone. Her growing curiosity was demanding answers, even as the rest of her knew it was a lost cause.
Dumbledore patted Dahlia's hand comfortingly, jarring her attention back to him. She glared up at him, hand twitching away from him in frustration. "I know it is frustrating, my dear, but I didn't come to talk to you tonight to quibble."
Dahlia sighed, rolling her eyes as she resigned herself to the fact that she would have to choose this fight another time. "What is it then, Albus?"
Dumbledore glanced around quickly, before tightly gripping her arm. His actions scared her; the pressure on her arm wasn't painful, but it was tight. She looked at him in alarm, finding no relief when his eyes held a bit of fear in them. His fear startled her; she had seen him worried many times over the years, but never fearful. His words gripped her next, chilling her to the bone. "There are strange things happening this year at Hogwarts, things I'm having issues discovering. Please, be on your guard. Be extra vigilant in everything."
Dahlia was frozen to the spot, her guardians warning playing over and over in her head. "Is it Voldemort?" Her words came out as a whisper, wide eyes looking up at her guardian. Albus's face settled into a grim line, his piercing blue eyes scanning her face closely.
Fear of a name increases fear of the things itself. Dumbledore had said that to her many times over the years as they discussed the rising of the Dark Lord. He had never shied away from using his name, not even when she was a child. Dahlia found that he was correct; she held no fear for the name; and therefore she held less fear of the man. Everything that was born must die, Dumbledore had told her. That meant Voldemort was a man, nothing more, nothing less.
Dumbledore's grip loosened, but he remained hold of her arm, his gaze still sharp on her face. Worry lines formed on his forehead, the deep ones that only revealed themselves when drastic times were approaching. "The Dark Lord is behind just about everything, these days. Take care to not reveal yourself."
Dahlia nodded stiffly, his words doing nothing to ease her own fear. "Of course, Albus."
Dumbledore smiled affectionately at his ward, though the worry lines were still apparent. "You should head back to bed. You have classes in the morning." And with that, he kissed her lightly on the cheek as he bade her goodnight, leaving her standing in the gardens with the moon as her only light.
Dahlia was headed back to her common room a few minutes later when she remembered her original purpose for leaving the common room in the first place. She quickly changed courses, heading directly for the dungeons. She wasn't exactly sure of where in the dungeons the Slytherin common room was, but it couldn't be hard to find. The air around her got colder, the walls damper as she descended deeper into the castle.
Dahlia didn't even make it down the first corridor before she spotted him. Malfoy was perched in a window in an empty classroom. He leaned against the wall, his head relaxed backwards. He had his eyes closed, the moonlight bouncing off his pale hair from a sky light. Dahlia froze in the doorway. Sitting there like that he looked so peaceful. So relaxed. Dahlia couldn't bring herself to interrupt his moment of peace, and she made to leave the room.
"Don't go," Malfoy's whisper stopped her. She paused, turning back to face him. His eyes were now open, and staring straight at her. His gaze was soft for once as he took her in, shivering and red cheeked. "What's a Gryffindor doing wandering around the dungeons at night?" His voice was commanding again, all signs of weakness gone as his face hardened to its usual disdainful coldness.
Dahlia suddenly found herself nervous, the butterflies in her stomach making her almost nauseated. "I-I came to thank you," she stammered, eyeing him skeptically.
Draco watched her intently, his face stoic. His eyes traveled from her face, down to her chest, and then jerked back up to her face again as if he realized what he was doing. Dahlia blushed under his scrutiny, but held his gaze as his eyes settled back on hers.
"No need," Malfoy said gruffly, shifting uncomfortably. His eyes darted away, back up to the moon directly above them. Dahlia managed a weak smile; she figured it would make him uncomfortable, but she wasn't done.
"You saved my life," Dahlia whispered the words, looking up at him. It was the first time she'd admitted it, even to herself. Her words caught him off guard; Draco met her eyes, and was weakened by the trust that filled them. Silence filled the room as Draco held her gaze, unable to bring himself to look away. He let the amber eyes draw him in for a second before he caught himself, breaking her gaze and looking back up to the stars.
"Too bad the dragon didn't get that Hufflepuff you were flirting with ," Malfoy covered his moment of weakness with sarcasm. Inwardly he scolded himself, reminded himself of who he was, and who she was.
Dahlia's cheeks flushed immediately, anger sparking. "I was not flirting!"
"He had his arm around you and everything!" Malfoy protested, crossing his arms as he glared at her indignantly. She planted her hands on her hips, scowling at him.
"So?"
"So?!" Malfoy glowered back at her, spitting the word back at her spitefully.
Dahlia's face turned into a pout, face falling as though disappointed. "I thought we were friends."
"We are." Malfoy didn't know what the hell possessed him to say that, when the last thing that he was supposed to be doing was be friends with someone like her. He bit his tongue and looked away from her, regretting the words.
Dahlia fixed him with a piercing look as she turned to walk away. "Then why do you care who I flirt with?"
By the time he had recovered from his shock she had fled the dungeon.