A/N: Hey guys! This is my first fanfic, so please please PLEASE give me any feedback that you have. I know romances are inherently a bit fluffy, but I genuinely want to create as good of a story as I can. As you can see though, this is rated M and there will be language, some violence and other –adult—themes, hemm hemm.

Just as a couple of notes, this fic is set during Half-Blood Prince, but there will definitely be some noticeable deviations from the book so don't hate me for it :]

I own NONE of Harry Potter and all credit goes to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.

Chapter One

"Look at me."

Kathleen McCormack's eyes darted nervously towards the gate, then back to the floor. She was horrendously uncomfortable - the airport was an unpleasant place to begin with, and the circumstances within said airport weren't helping any.

She bit the inside of her cheek and avoided all forms of eye contact.

"Kathleen." Her mother's voice was pleading.

After considerable hesitation, Kathleen obeyed. Her mother's gold-flecked green eyes - a mirror of her own - were swimming with tears, but she was smiling through her sadness. "You'll be just fine, sweetheart. You'll be with your friends and you'll be here, where everything is familiar."

Her father cleared his throat and smiled as well, but his was less convincing. "Right. And we won't even be gone a year. Back before you know it," he said playfully. "Please be good to your grandmother."

When Kathleen rolled her eyes, he pulled her into a warm hug and ruffled her hair. She might've cried along with them, but all she felt was a profound lack of feeling, like she was floating in an emotional nothingness.

Perhaps she was just being dramatic.

"We'll miss you," her mother whispered, "but we'll write all the time."

She nodded mutely. Finally, she turned to scoop up two-year-old Bridget into her arms and she planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Yuck, Kaffleen!" Bridget protested, squirming roughly until she was safely released back to the ground. When their mother began to usher the toddler forward and she realized that Kathleen was staying put, she frowned, clearly confused. Bridget put her two pudgy hands over her hips, an aggravating habit that she'd picked up in the last couple of weeks. "Come on!"

"I'm staying for a bit," Kathleen said, probably too loudly. "I'll be here when you get back."

Bridget eyed her uneasily, then shrank closer to her mother's side. "You'll be here," she repeated cautiously. "With Nann?"

"Exactly," Kathleen replied. "Behave yourself."

Her younger sister nodded solemnly, then ran back to give her sister a farewell hug before timidly shuffling back to hold their mother's hand.

With that, she watched as her family walked towards the customs counter. One final wave, and they disappeared from sight.

They were going to the United States for a temporary job opportunity for her father—it was only ten months, but with the economy being the way it was and the pay they were offering, there hadn't been much choice. It would also get his foot in the door with some much-needed American business contacts for when the family returned home to Ireland.

Kathleen, however, was left here, with her maternal grandmother. It was in the middle of the school year and her parents had decided that it would be better not to displace her. Reluctantly, Kathleen agreed and stayed behind, even though she was anxious to be away from her tight-knit family.

"Come on, child," Nann said gently. "Let's get home and unpack your things."

The car ride over was quiet, and Kathleen could tell that there was something troubling Nann's mind. She was a beautiful woman considering her age—she was over sixty years old and still had traces of flaming red hair within her mostly silver bun. She still wore makeup, though her rouged lips were now in a tight frown.

There had always been a certain amount of tension with Nann—though she was always warm and kind on the surface, Kathleen had overheard more than one argument between her and her mother where stinging words and pleading were frequent. She knew the reason for the fights, too—her mother's side of the family had magical powers, and her father's side did not. Nann never degraded her son-in-law for his lack of ability, but she totally disagreed with her daughter's decision to live a muggle life and to have her children do the same.

When she was eleven, Kathleen received her Hogwarts letter in the mail, just as she was told she would. While there was a fleeting moment of curiosity, her parents had instilled in her the values of a magic-free life, and she wanted to stay in the muggle world. She never learned magic, she'd never even as much as seen it.

"Something wrong, Nann?" Kathleen asked as they snaked through the city.

Her grandmother shook her head, giving Kathleen a sad smile. "No, no. Just very sorry to see them go."

"What do you mean, you and dad agreed?"

Usually, Kathleen wasn't so quick-tempered, especially with her grandmother. Respect your elders and all that nonsense.

Her grandmother sighed. "Look, darling, I know how you've grown up, but now that you'll be away from your mother, we've both realized it's a good time for you to learn magic. She doesn't know yet, of course, so you won't be mentioning it in any of your letters. Your father has finally realized that it's unfair to keep you from a witch's life that you were born to live. He's going to ease your mother into the idea while they're away."

Kathleen was dumbfounded. She was astounded that her father had agreed to anything so ludicrous. Though her father was the one without powers, it was her mother who had been so adamant to live the non-magic life. Granted, the original reason for shunning magic was because of her mother's devotion to her father and her fear of him rejecting her, but Kathleen knew that the issue went far deeper than that. She was very tight-lipped to Kathleen and her mother on the issue, though Kathleen knew her father was relieved to keep his normal lifestyle regardless of the reason behind it.

"Nann, I know you want me to learn it, but… I just have no interest in magic."

Her grandmother gave a tight smile and regarded Kathleen, sizing her up. Kathleen couldn't read her expression. "You will."

Kathleen glared furiously at her grandmother. With her out of control strawberry blonde waves haloing around her head, she looked a bit like an angry green-eyed lion about to strike. "What about school? The whole reason I stayed here was so I could keep with my friends, Nann!"

"You'll make new friends," she assured dismissively, as if that were the end of the conversation. Kathleen wasn't going to give up so easily.

"They won't take me anyway. I don't know magic, they're not just going to let me pop in and settle among the fifth years."

Her grandmother grinned, revealing the dazzling smile that she had passed on to her daughter, and she to Kathleen. "No, of course not."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically, waiting for her Nann's retaliation.

"That's why I've told the Headmaster that you've been homeschooled. If we start training today—which we will be, don't give me that look—I should have you at an acceptable level come September."

Kathleen refused to go to some imaginary platform with her grandmother. She had agreed, however, to go with Seamus Finnigan. Seamus' mother and her own had been good friends at Hogwarts, and had remained that way afterward. Kathleen had seen Seamus more than a dozen times in her childhood because of their parent's friendship, and while she wouldn't call them chums, she at least knew him.

He gave her a warm smile when she arrived at the train station. Kathleen gave a curt goodbye to her grandmother and walked stiffly beside Seamus. She tried to hide her frustration, but was doing a poor job of it. Her clothes were wrinkled; her hair out of control and her nails were bitten to the quick. She had never felt so nervous.

There was no kind way of putting it; Kathleen was downright pathetic at magic. Trying to cram four years worth of spells and incantations into a ten month period with an unmotivated student was one of the worst ideas her Nann had ever had. Her parents had offered no sympathy either—eventually, Nann told her mother about the situation and since then, her parents had been oddly adamant about magic when she had spoken to them on the phone.

Kathleen tugged at her sleeves anxiously. Seamus raised an eyebrow at her.

"Alright?" he asked.

Kathleen stared at him. Despite the length of time she had known Seamus, he may as well have been a stranger for how comfortable she felt then. She shrugged, then held her breath has she followed behind Seamus into a seemingly solid wall.

The whole day was a blur to her. She spent the train ride with Seamus and his friend Dean Thomas. Despite herself, she had managed to forget about the circumstances for a few moments, and she'd managed to have a few laughs on the commute. Seamus had a dry wit that he had kept subdued whenever he visited her home, but now that they were away from their parents he allowed it to show freely. Dean was equally as sharp, and was thrilled that Gryffindor might have a new recruit. She liked the idea—her grandmother had told her that she'd be most proud if she was put into Slytherin, but she didn't think it mattered much, and the two Gryffindor boys had given her a much-needed sense of welcome.

The anxious feeling that had been building in her stomach turned into a cold twist of dread when she stepped off the train.

The castle was magnificent and regal— completely breathtaking.

Kathleen felt an instant, burning hatred towards Hogwarts.

She had never wanted this. Her life had been magical enough—she was happy, she had friends she adored, she loved accomplishing things through her own hard work. As far as Kathleen was concerned, magic was nothing more than a deadly infection—as soon as she had come into contact with it, her life had begun to wither away and die. She tried to be optimistic like her parents and Nann had encouraged her to, but she couldn't help but feel bitterness.

She was still fighting internally when she stepped up to the famed Sorting Hat.

There's nothing hidden in your head the Sorting Hat can't see…

Then you should see that I should be sent home, back to where I belong, Kathleen thought furiously.

You belong here, the Hat said, although she couldn't be sure if everyone else could hear it talking as well. I see great determination. You're quick-tempered, yes, stubborn too.

You're painting a great picture of me, she snapped back at the Hat sarcastically.

You underestimate your resourcefulness and skill. When the time comes, you will hold onto your beliefs and do everything within your power to achieve what you believe that you must.

Kathleen frowned, a little confused by what the Hat was telling her.

"Slytherin!" the Hat bellowed.

Feeling hollow, Kathleen stood and walked towards the Slytherin table, trying to ignore the disappointed looks on Seamus and Dean's faces. Despite what the Sorting Hat had said about her resourcefulness and determination, she couldn't help but feel ashamed that she was headed towards the house known for having master manipulators and selfish egotists.

She sat at the end of the table, cut off from most of the others. She recognized no one, much as she expected. After the Sorting was finished, she quietly served herself some roasted carrots and boiled chicken and ate in silence.

She stood up with her plate in hand, then realized everyone was staring at her.

"What are you doing?" a mocha-skinned boy with striking green eyes inquired.

Kathleen immediately reddened and set her plate down on the table. "Sorry—I was just bringing my plate back to the kitchen to be washed, is all."

He smiled. He had a generous mouth and straight white teeth. "Where did you come from?" he laughed. When Kathleen stared back at him like a deer in headlights, he explained that the dishes were transported from the tables by the house elves and that she didn't need to worry about it.

She nodded, embarrassed. "Sorry—homeschooled," she mumbled as an explanation, smiling a little.

The boy shrugged and extended his hand. "Blaise Zabini." He stared at her slyly. "You're blushing like mad."

Kathleen ignored his comment and shook Blaise's hand. "Kathleen M—O'Malley," she stuttered. Her Nann had told her to use a pseudonym so no one would know that she had not, in fact, been homeschooled for the past four years. She desperately tried to shake the habit of saying Kathleen McCormack.

"This is Malfoy," he said casually, nudging the boy next to him, whom Kathleen hadn't been paying attention to. He had steely eyes with a penetrating stare, a strong jaw and wispy blonde hair. Kathleen realized with a flush of embarrassment that this coldly handsome Malfoy was in fact staring at her, with no hint of friendliness in his eyes.

"Hi," she offered warmly. She thought of trying to shake hands with him too, but her instincts immediately told her no. He didn't reply—he just continued to stare at her, only breaking his gaze to do a split-second once over of her body. He acknowledged her by raising his eyebrows slightly, and she thought she could see a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. She laughed awkwardly, and he broke his intense eye contact with her and chose to return to his food.

Uncomfortable and warm-cheeked, Kathleen glared at him and wordlessly excused herself from the table without waiting for dessert.

He straightened his Prefect's badge and smoothed his platinum hair with his fingers, then sighed. The pressure was mounting on him - much as he tried to shake it. He told himself that he needed to forget about his family for the time being in order to avoid his emotions tangling with his success.

He splashed icy water onto his pale skin. He needed to control himself, keep his composure, come off as the same prick that he always had been—no signs of weakness, even though he wanted to give into it.

He toweled off his face and a grin spread across his face. There was one saving grace in the situation… this transfer girl, Kathleen - home-schooled and fiery, smelling of intoxicating cinnamon and vanilla. She seemed naïve but perhaps just a bit fiesty, a perfect combination in Draco's eyes. She'd fall easily for his charm, she'd be like putty in his hands, but not so easily that it wouldn't cause plenty of excitement for him.

Malfoy wants, Malfoy gets.

Malfoy wanted a distraction. He knew that this O'Malley would be a very, very welcomed distraction.