Hadara Potter hadn't expected it. She hadn't expected to look up into his face, after getting off the train to start her sixth year, and feel betrayal rip through her with the brutal pain she usually associated with the blood-boiling curse. She actually stumbled to a stop, staring at him in shock. She could see it in his eyes, the entitlement, the victory, the pride. Hadara felt a kind of helpless rage she hadn't experienced since she was tied to the gravestone and forced to watch Voldemort come back to life using her blood.

She had worked so damn hard. She wanted to give them a chance. She had seen Pettigrew grovelling and snivelling at Tom's feet, and been disgusted. She didn't want anyone to be subjected to that ever again. The hat had wanted to put her in Slytherin, so she knew there was good in them. She had foolishly thought that if she could become powerful enough, show them that she would protect them, that she would fight for them; then maybe she could help. Maybe she could take some of the torment out of Professor Snape's eyes. She wanted everyone to know that they deserved better then the life of a child soldier and slave, that no one had the right to demand that they bow down.

After Voldemort had returned she had left the quidditch team, used the extra time to study, to train. Hadara had petitioned the ministry of magic for emancipation, and won because she had participated in the Triwizard Tournament that Fudge himself had stated was only those of age. She went toe to toe with the ministry that was slandering her name in the papers so that she could practice magic in the summer, so she could prepare. She had become an animagus before her 15th birthday. She had illegally taught herself how to apparate and make portkeys. She had dropped divination, and picked up ancient runes after finding out she wouldn't be able to break wards without at least a basic understanding.

In her fifth year she had skipped every history of magic, astronomy, and herbology class, not caring if she failed, because those subjects wouldn't help her protect the people she cared about. She used the extra time to duel practice dummies in the room of the requirement, and teaching herself new defensive spells, not even Ron and Hermione together could beat her in a duel now. She got up at 5 am everyday to run around the lake to build her stamina, and practice sneaking around undetected. She spent her nights reviewing all the old newspapers and books from Voldemort's last reign of terror in an effort to better understand his tactics and the first generation death eaters. She had gone to Professor Mcgonagall last year for lessons in how to use transfiguration as a defensive tactic. With Hermione and Ron's help she started the D.A. so that her friends and classmates would be better able to defend themselves, her own skills becoming even more refined in the process. She had gone to Poppy Pomfrey every Sunday and spent the whole day learning In-The-Field-First-Aid, because Merlin knew she would need it at some point. She had finished her 5th year with the top grades in Charms, Transfiguration, Defence, and Runes beating every single one of the Ravenclaws and even Hermione. At the battle at the ministry of magic, when she was brought in to finally testify to Voldemort's return, she had gotten into what had been described as "the most vicious, brutal duel ever witnessed, Voldemort and Dumbledore were awe-inspiring, Bellatrix Lestrange and Hadara Potter were terrifying." She had killed Bellatrix Lestrange, Voldemort's right hand, his top lieutenant. She still woke up from nightmares about that night, but Hadara thought she had finally proven how far she was willing to go to protect people. She had shown that she wasn't playing around, and that she would kill to protect them. She thought that they might trust her. Hell, even Snape treated her with respect now. She was working so fucking hard, killing herself with sleepless nights, and brutal training. So that they would know that if they just held on a little longer, gave her just a bit more time to learn and plan then they wouldn't have to sell their freedom. She never took a break, never to took a day off, because they were waiting for her, depending on her to end this before they sold their souls and fuck. She had worked so hard, to show that she respected them, respected him. Worked to show that she wouldn't turn them away if they had a problem, if they ever needed somewhere to go. No matter what they did, what he did, she never retaliated. She wasn't a push-over, but she never let their dominance games bother her. But, here, standing right in front of her, was proof that people thought that all of her hard work wasn't good enough, that she wasn't good enough. It was useless, here she was looking in his eyes and she knew that she couldn't do anything and god damn it her magic was wreathing and her eyes felt hot and she was so angry and disappointed and sad and scared and so fucking tired. She wanted to break something. The grief was crashing against her and her magic started to crackle-

"Dara?" Hermione's concerned voice brought her back to reality, causing her to tear her eyes away for the staring contest she had unknowingly engaged in with Draco Malfoy.

"Are you alright? Your face just went really pale. Have you not been sleeping again?" Great now Ron was looking at her too.

She couldn't tell them. This was big. Draco Malfoy had taken the Dark Mark. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. Even thinking it made her feel nauseous, and she didn't want to explain why it hurt her so much. Her emotions were jagged and tearing at her insides. She couldn't tell them, she didn't bear to see the fear on their faces before the opening feast even started. So she lied, right to their faces.

"I think I might be getting a cold, I'll go see Pomfrey right when we get to the castle." With that sentence she locked it all up, the grief, the sadness, the fear, the betrayal, she shoved it all down and blanked her face, she would deal with it later. For now, she was going to pretend to be a student instead of a child soldier, and ignore the boy who seemed to have joined her on the front lines.

—

Draco Malfoy hadn't expected it. He hadn't expected to see her look up at him, her stunningly green eyes still holding traces of amusement for whatever joke Weasley had just told her, and stare at him with open horror. At first he had thought it was just the usual amount, the type of look most people give Slytherins, even if she had never once directed that look at him before. He had felt his trademark smirk twist his lips, even as the cold disdain entered his eyes. Who was the Gryffindor Golden Girl to judge him? He was a pureblood, a heir to a huge fortune, and he had the top grades in Slytherin, this year he would also be Quidditch Captain. He would not be looked down on! Then other emotions chased themselves across her face, almost too quick for him to decipher. Anger, quick and violent, darkened her eyes by several degrees. Then helplessness? No, Grief. Absolute utter heartbreak.

This couldn't be right, Hadara was always cool and composed, unflappable. Her hadn't seen her show this much emotion in years. She comported herself in a way that he respected, the only Gryffindor that didn't wear her heart on her sleeve. He was usually one of the very few who could tell what she was feeling and that was only because he had known her for years, before she had gotten so good at hiding her thoughts and feelings. Even now, when she was obviously off balance, the other students hadn't noticed her inner turmoil, even Granger and Weasel had yet to realize.

He met her eyes again. Now she looked disappointed? Her shoulders were slumped and her face had paled, she looked hopeless and sad. Her magic practically screamed disappointment and grief, and all of it was directed at him. He tried to think of what he had done that warranted such a reaction from her. No matter what he had said and done in the past she had never looked at him like that. She never rose to his taunts, never lashed out in anger, never tormented him, nor did she curse him behind his back. Eventually he had stopped bullying her, the rivalry he had with Gryffindor was now lead by the Weasel. He couldn't help it, none of the Slytherins could.

Last year, after she had left her team, Slytherin had demolished Gryffindor in the first game of the season. He had walked right up to where she was standing with the rest of the Gryffindors planning on rubbing it in their faces. Of course, Hadara never did react like he expected. She had looked up at him, smiled and told him that it had been a great game and that he had played well. At first, he had thought she was mocking him, but he tell she meant it, see the respect in her eyes. Of course, her words had left him speechless and standing like a fool in the middle of the hallway, but that didn't erase the fierce burn of pride at her words. He hated to admit it, but he respected her. She was a fierce duelist, and was absolutely ruthless when people she cared about were threatened, both traits he respected. After the return of the Dark Lord, she had proven to be blindingly intelligent, quickly outstripping everyone in her efforts to better herself, even the insufferable know-it-all Granger. Her opinion mattered to him, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

That's why he couldn't help but be confused by the amount of emotion she was showing him at the moment. What could he have possibly done to have her look at him with so much grief in her eyes? He hadn't even engaged in the usual pissing match with Weasel on the train. In fact, he had avoided her compartment all together. Instead, he had spent the time basking in the glory and respect that the other Slytherins now showered him with. All because of- NO. She couldn't- there's no way that she could know- and then he saw it, for the barest of a second her eyes flickered to his left forearm, right where it was. He looked back at her in shock. How did she know? It was obvious no one had told her, he could see the surprise in her expression. Their eyes met again, and he didn't understand. All that grief and heartbreak was for him? She looked crushed, like her whole world had just fallen apart.

Granger was talking to her, and she broke eye contact to reply. She looked back at him one more time, her eyes filled with such absolute, utter betrayal that Draco felt like ice had just been dumped down his back. He took a halting step forward, his hand lifting up to reach out to her, he wanted to beg her to stop looking at him like that. Then her face smoothed out, the emotion drained from her face, she was cool and composed once more. She turned and walked away from him. He waited. She didn't look back.