House: Slytherin

Year: 5

Category: Standard

Prompt: Silver

Word count: 1398

A/N: Fem!Harry AU.

Phoebe Artemis: Twin sister of Phoebus Apollo, man-hater and sworn virgin, Goddess of Hunt, Moon, Childbirth and Virgins. The color she is usually associated with is silver/grey - the color of moonlight.

They are silver.

Draco scratched the back of his head as he pondered the words of the Seer he and his mother visited before going to the Diagon Alley. How could a person be silver? Narcissa had not questioned the words, however: she simply smiled, paid the woman twelve Sickles and and dragged Draco out of the shop in Delphi, Greece.

"Don't think too much about it, Dragon," the Malfoy matriarch advised the blonde boy. "I got a strange description from the Seer as well."

"What was it?" Draco asked hopefully.

"'They are saffron'," Narcissa quoted her own prediction. "Not two weeks later, I bumped into your father, who was holding his mother's saffron hat at Twilfitt and Tattings. Those prophecies only make sense in retrospect."

"Okay," Draco decided. He'll ignore the words of the Seer for now and go on. The love of his life will find him, one way or another.

Besides, hadn't his father said Divination is a very unreliable branch of magic?

All of those thoughts got thrown out of the window on the Hogwarts Express. The rumor mill saw Artemis Potter board the train, and Draco was anxious to meet her. His father had advised to make friends with the Girl-Who-Lived, but it was his own curiosity that led him into the search for Potter's compartment.

Of course, she was not alone: a redhead, likely a Weasley, was sitting across her, starstruck look in his eyes as he leaned to listen to what she was talking about. Draco could not fault the blood-traitor - the girl was striking, with delicate build, pale skin and inky black hair tumbling down just past her shoulders.

Time to intervene and save the girl from pollution of the commoners.

"Hello," he drawled as he opened the door, and the girl turned her head.

The impossibly deep green eyes, dotted like the surface of Moon with flecks of brown, arrested him and launched his mind into a tailspin. He had seen her before in the passing, in Diagon Alley! He had been exiting Madam Malkin's, and she was entering all alone, looking quite ruffled and completely unremarkable.

How was that girl and this goddess (oh, now the name made so much sense!) the same person?

"Who are you?" Weasley demanded rudely, and Potter frowned in disapproval. Point for him!

"Malfoy," Draco sneered at the blood-traitor, before turning to the Potter heiress, softening his voice. "Draco Malfoy. I heard Artemis Potter is in this compartment. Is it true?"

"Well..." the girl smiled shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear and standing up. "Yes. I am Artemis. Nice to meet you, Draco."

Draco couldn't help but return the smile, suddenly at crossroads. What to say next? She showed no recognition at his name, and he had never interacted with someone who didn't know of his family, at least.

"Would you like to sit with me and my friends?"

Artemis tilted her head to the side, but Weasley stepped in front of her.

"Arte!" Weasley hissed at the Girl-Who-Lived, and Draco gritted his teeth. A nickname already? "You stay away from her, Malfoy!"

"Let her decide for herself," Draco retorted with heat. "Besides, I'm surprised there's another one of you, Weasley. How, by Morgana's name, do blood-traitors send six children in Hogwarts?" He wrinkled his nose as he inspected the second-hand robes, battered trunk, old rat sleeping on the seat and the wand with unicorn's hair peeking out of the tip.

"Shut up!" Weasley reddened, the color clashing terribly with his ginger hair, and took a step forward. Draco gulped and reached for his wand -

"Ron!" Artemis positively hissed at the blood-traitor before turning to Draco. "Thank you for the offer, Draco, but I don't abandon friends." She shot him an apologetic smile, and closed the compartment door in his face.

Draco stood there, gaping for a moment, before cursing and storming off.

Game on, Artemis Potter. Two can play this game.

Since that day, the cold war between Gryffindor Princess and Slytherin Prince commenced, and as the years passed, it steadily got worse. While the two were perfectly polite and courteous to each other the entire time, same could not be said for the court they held.

Weasley twins' pranks became more vicious than usual, prompting Marcus to curse the Beaters; Granger and Zabini actively tried to outdo each other academically, competing for the top spot. Youngest Weasleys got into numerous scuffles with Crabbe, Goyle and younger Greengrass, Astoria; even squib Longbottom and air-head Brown joined in, mobilizing their friends and relatives in other Houses for surprise attacks on Slytherins.

Draco did nothing to stop the attacks, and Potter for her part looked quite indifferent to the war. In fact, many commented how similar they behaved within each other's vicinity: going from indifferent to ice-cold in Draco's case, and from warm and welcoming to razor-sharp and calculating in Artemis'.

It suits their names, the whispers that reached the Malfoy heir said. The sprawling Dragon of the North Sky, and the cruel Goddess of Moon and Hunt.

The last part gave Draco a pause. Cruel? Artemis was a lot of things, but cruel was not one of those things. The only cruelty he could see as possibility was her blatant dismissal of her fanboys and fangirls.

Then again, hadn't they started this war over perceived insult? Draco should not judge those poor souls so harshly. Getting no attention from a generally warm girl was a brand of cruelty - a brand Draco never felt.

Whatever they felt towards each other, no one could accuse Draco and Artemis of ignoring each other.

As such, Draco wasted absolutely no time when he heard about it.

"Will you go with me to the Yule Ball?"

Artemis looked more than slightly taken aback, Granger and Weasley gaping in the background. The main courtyard hushed, everyone watching with bated breath. Draco spied a few of the Durmstrang students looking at the scene with interest and had to hold back a smirk. Their foreign guests had not been long here, but after this, they will most definitely find out why everyone looked like Apocalypse had come early.

In a sense, it had and it hadn't: Draco didn't need to ask Artemis, but his pride would not allow someone else snatch up his rival. Also, asking her this publicly insured there was only one viable answer, at least in the eyes of Hogwarts students.

At last, Artemis nodded.

"I will."

Draco smirked at her, and bowed to add insult to the injury. "Thank you."

Artemis rolled her eyes skyward and turned her back to him.

"Great Hall doors. I won't be waiting for you."

Beautiful, was the only word his mind could process as he gaped at the Gryffindor Princess. The Greek-inspired dress she wore was silvery-grey and diaphanous, falling to the floor and leaving her shoulders bare. Hair spilled out of the knot at the top of her head and framed her face, and the belt and bracelets were done in green and silver.

Slytherin colors suited her disturbingly well.

"Close your mouth, Malfoy," Artemis said as she glided down the steps, followed by almost unrecognizable Granger in periwinkle ball gown.

Draco obeyed her and shut his mouth, suddenly awake of the gawking eyes and loud giggles behind him.

"I hope you know how to dance, Potter," Draco managed to get his faculties under control enough to jab at his partner as she joined him in the line for the Champions.

"I hope you know how to lead," Artemis shot back, and Krum in front of them snorted and Granger giggled.

"Good luck, Arte," Granger called as the Hall doors opened.

"You too, 'Mione," Artemis grinned and turned her head to Draco. "Shall we?"

Draco swallowed. The cold blue light from the Hall his Artemis' face, and for a moment Draco could've sworn he stood in the presence of the goddess. The color of the moon is usually described as silver or grey, he thought dazedly as the long-buried memory resurfaced.

Your love, Draco Lucius Malfoy? They are silver.

"We shall."

And with those words, Draco led the fourth Triwizard champion to their first - and hopefully not last - waltz.