Disclaimer: I own nothing but Bri, Ciaran and the Eveane history, oh, and Hunter. In other words, Draco and his family aren't mind, and neither is the whole world HP. Oh, and Roberto is Gracie's char.

Note: Please be kind…I suck at Canon's.

A soft sigh is emitted from the girl at the window; she moves her arm rubbing the condensation away with a sleeve which dampens. Outside there was a thick blanket of snow, which was getting deeper by the second. Gentle crackling could be heard as the sky grew bluer, the darkness thicker and more complete.

"Merry Christmas, Brianna." she spat, turning round, away from the window, the distant lights of the Vickers' household, and beyond – of the village. She looked at the fire, burning in the grate before she crouched down near it, feeding it more timber to destroy and crumble to ashes.

Brianna, Bri, watched the fire for a few moments before straightening up and wandering through to the dining room. The table was laid for relatives that never came, guests that never arrived. Dust had settled on the ornate china over time, the silver cutlery tarnishing, fading into dullness.

She passed through the room quickly, bare feet noiseless on the polished wouldn't floors of the hall way. She paused at the foot of the stair case, hearing sobbing from above. She shuddered, hearing the wails of despair: the only noise that broke the deafening silence.

She moved past the staircase, pressing her bare feet into boots and removing a coat from the hook, when she froze. Black eyes flickered towards the door as a shrill ring reverberated through the air to her eyes. Even the crying faltered.

Taking slow steps, she crossed the wood flooring to the large doors, swiftly unlocking one and tugging the heavy door back, staring at the man before her. The crying continued upstairs.

She meant his eyes, they were steely and cold. Slate coloured, she could feel him watching her, feeling like he was getting right under her skin and she shivered – uncomfortable, she stepped back.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked, her voice ringing clear in the silence.

"Merry Christmas. Long time no see, Rose." she recognized that voice, and placed it to its owner. Stepping away, inviting him in as she believed him to be here to speak with her father. Why else would he come at this time?

"What do you want here, Ciaran is out." she said, shutting the door and turning round to face the man, arms folded.

"My, my…You are just like they say…"

Tired with his petty conversation already she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "And what do they say I'm like, Draco?"

"Dearest Rose, I'm surprised you still remember my name." Bri raised an eyebrow, looking at him.

"I'm not as naive as I once was, you forget you don't have that kind of power over me any more, Draco Malfoy." she said, raising her head and swallowing back anger. "Now, you will tell me what you want or you leave."

She glared at him. He was 18, only a few years older, yet their worlds seemed lifetimes apart. She held his gaze for a few moments before pulling out a bag and a letter from under his cloak. Bri gazed at them idly for a moment.

"What is this?" she asked, as he handed the bag to her.

"Merry Christmas, like I said." a smirk crossed his face. "It's for you." she meant his cool eyes once again and rolled her own.

Humouring him, she removed the tag, opening it and seeing a bottle filled with dark scarlet liquid.

"Wine?" she said, looking at the label curiously. Her lips twitched in the faintest smile.

"Your favourite, if I do recall correctly."

"You brought me wine…" she let out a small laugh and moved towards the door. He followed as she took it into the kitchen, placing it on the countertop. She removed two stemmed glasses from a cupboard and filled them with the wine he had brought her. "Merry Christmas, Draco." she said, half sarcastically. She watched him over the top of the glass as she took a deep sip, feeling bitterly sweet nectar run down her throat. "Mhmn." she mumbled without helping it.

"You like it? I knew you would." The rare occurrence of a genuine smile fitted itself to Draco's mouth for a few moments before moving into the smirk again. She sighed and placed the glass down with a gentle clink.

"You didn't come here just to tell me to have a nice Christmas, which obviously isn't happening…What d'you want?" she demanded now, turning to him once again.

Draco sighed and moved his gaze away from her, momentarily. "Father wanted to send a letter. I said I'd deliver it because I didn't want to be stuck at home, alone for yet another night."

Bri nodded, staring out the window. "I see." she was quiet for a few slow and silent moments, interrupted only by their breathing, before looking at him. "The letter? I'll see he gets it."

She took the crisp parchment from him and slipped from the room. Curious still, he followed her down the smart corridor of the Eveane Manor. She stopped abruptly at her fathers study. He watched the curtain of ebony fall down her back with interest, as she quietly entered and left it on the spotless desk.

She emerged quietly, looking up at him, he was startlingly close. She rolled her eyes. "I can see you will not be leaving any time soon…" she sighed. "Don't you have friends…girlfriends to run back to? It's Christmas, and I'm sure they'd be missing you dearly…" she muttered, cynicism in her voice.

Still the same old Rose…He thought, allowing himself to watch her carefully, as she wandered back down the corridor. He shrugged. "I thought I'd spend some time here…Paying an old friend a visit." he smiled, walking up behind her and laying his arm round her waist.

She stepped away with a smile. "Not this time Draco." she shook her head. "You're not taking advantage of me, again." she told him, handing his wine once she was back in the kitchen. "Drink your wine and be gone." She turned away from him. He looked at his glass for a moment, before replacing it on the counter.

"I think not…" he murmured, moving close behind her and resting his fingertips on her slight hips, whispering in her ear. "You don't want me to go…I know you don't. You're lonely here; with no-one but a snivelling mother for company…You want me to stay, so stop denying it." he told her, feeling her body tense briefly, and then relax.

"Why me, Draco…?" she wondered, softly. "Why did you pick me…? There are loads of other girls out there. Is it because I'm an Eveane? Is that it?"

Draco hesitated a moment to long and Bri picked it up, closing her eyes. "No…I miss you Rose…I want you back." he whispered still in that same, annoyingly seductive tone. "Admit it, you miss me."

Bri smiled and let out a small laugh, sounding like chimes breaking. "I used to think that…But all you did was use me, Draco. And you may kid me that you've changed…But I know you haven't."

She untangled herself from him, and stepped away, turning round to face him. "You brought your letter now go." she told him, her voice firm, harsh…cold.

Draco folded his arms, silent for a moment staring at her. He stepped close, sharply, and pulled her into his grip, pressing his lips against hers in a forceful but beautifully soft kiss.

Bri pulled away. "LEAVE!" she demanded, finding her wand in her coat pocket and producing it. He grabbed her wand and tossed it away.

"What did I tell you about denying you want me?" he whispered, voice husky with lust. "I told you to stop it. So do."

He kissed her again, moving his arms round her waist and under her coat, encircling her with a firm grip. Unable to help herself, she gave in, her arms going round his neck, pressing her body against him, standing on tiptoes to reach him better…

Suddenly she pulled away again, furious. "NO! STOP IT! No more spells, wine…anything!" she yelled at him, pushing him away from her. "LEAVE NOW, DRACO!" she almost screamed at him then, snatching up her wand and pointing it in his face.

"You'll regret it." he warned. Bri was silent for another moment.

"Leave." she said again. "And you will not come here again, send a servant because god knows you have them."

He moved towards her again. "You loved me, once."

Bri glared more. "No. I never did." her voice was filled with spite.

"I loved you." Bri shook her head.

"You lied to me. You got close to me to find out information from my father. You were under orders from your father." she informed him, stepping away again – uncomfortable with his closeness.

A noise of irritation escaped him. "I still loved you, Rose!" he said, fire flickering in his eyes.

"Don't call me Rose." she told him angrily. "I'm Bri now." For a moment his anger failed him.

"Bri? That's such an ugly…modern name. What was wrong with Rose?" he wondered. "You were my Rose…Don't you remember? I used to bring you bouquets of black roses…"

Bri paused herself. "I remember…" she murmured. She thought back, with a faint smile. Every time he left her, it wouldn't be without a kiss and a rose. Bri almost started to look forward to it. She remembered the vases of them littered around her bedroom…

She blinked away the memories. "Every time you left me. That was when you gave me a rose. I gave something up for you, and suddenly your father called and you had to go. Leaving me alone. Don't you remember?"

"Rose…You know what it's like with a demanding father." he told her, anger seeping back into his voice, then away again as he tried pleading once more. "Please, come back with me…I need you. And you need someone to love you. You need someone to take care of you." Bri flinched and looked away. She felt soft fingertips on her shoulder.

"I can take care of myself now, Draco. I'm a big girl." there was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but not as much as she'd hoped for.

"I love you."

"Leave."

"Does it mean anything to you?" his voice was soft and pleading. Beautiful, even. She glared; she wouldn't allow herself to give in this time.

"If you say you love me, leave." Demanding it this time, she raised her eyes to look at his gorgeously steel coloured ones.

It was now his turn to glare at her. He grabbed her hand, pressing something into it which she didn't look at for a moment. "I'm going to get you back."

"I'm getting tired of telling you to leave." she told him with vicious eyes.

Within a moment he was gone, leaving only the faint smell of wine and cool air brushing against her body where he stood seconds earlier.

Bri stood still, feeling that if she moved she might break. Did he really still love her…? She shook her head angrily, storming from the room.

Once she was back in her own quarters, she gazed at what he had left in her hand. It was a small black box, about 15cm in length, and 5 in width. It was covered with soft velvet, and had a miniature silver catch.

Frowning, Bri flicked the catch open with a thumbnail, allowing a small gasp to escape her lips. Her head flew towards the door, then she remembered that Draco had gone.

Bri pulled the necklace from the silver-lined box, and held the thin chain between her fingers. It was her necklace. She held the obsidian wand between her fingers; it was cold and completely familiar. She smiled a little, comforted by it, when another thought occurred to her.

She lost the necklace last year, as heartbreaking as it was to her she had recovered. How did Draco end up with it?

She slid from the bed, and stepped over to her desk, tearing a section of parchment from a roll of it. She found a Muggle ink-pen in a pot of quills on the desk, and scribbled a short message.

She left the room, going to one of the upper rooms, finding her owl, Loki. She tied the message to its leg, afterwards carrying her to the window, watching until the black spot disappeared into the night.

Collapsing on her bed, she fell into a dreamless sleep that night, for once there were no shadows chasing her, nothing tormenting her. Bri found herself deep in slumber when something awoke her.

She gasped awake, and crept backwards under the sheets, scared by the men that stood in her room. In the blackness that enveloped her, she could pick out her fathers outline, along with two men she didn't recognize.

Struggling for breath, she spoke. "Father?" she muttered, holding the sheets to her.

"Rose. Get out of bed, dress yourself." He demanded of her. Groaning, Bri rubbed her eyes.

"Father, it's the middle of the night…Can't this wait till morning?"

"Are you disobeying me?" Bri cringed at the tone of voice. She hated that voice, but it seemed to surround all her childhood memories.

"No, Father." she whispered, hanging her head.

"I hope not. Now, do as you are told. We shall be waiting for you downstairs. Come into my study. Knock first." the men exited the room, one taking the strong smell of cigars with him.

"What did I do now?" she whispered to herself, dragging herself out of bed and dressing, remembering to fix the necklace around her neck. She hid the charm under her shirt, unsure whether her father would take kindly to her wearing it.

Downstairs, she paused, hearing the low murmur of voices from the study. She raised a hand, then knocked. "Father?" she called. The voices stopped abruptly, which made her think they had been talking about her.

That's stupid. She told herself. Why would a bunch of Death Eaters be talking about you? You're nothing special. You're nothing but another Eveane who's going to fall prey to the darkness. She thought bitterly.

"Come in, Rose." came a voice from inside, and she entered, shutting the door behind her.

There were more people in the small room now. Women and men. Bri scanned the room, meeting some of their eyes. Each had the same ravenous look in their eyes. It smelt strongly of tobacco, did the room, along with medicines useful for numbing the senses. She breathed in the smell and immediately felt the effects start to overcome her. She frowned.

"Father?"

"Rose. Sit." he indicated the large leather chair placed in front of the desk. She sat in it, hands folded in her lap. She raised her eyes to meet his.

They looked scarily similar. Each had jet black hair, with matching ebony eyes that glistened with the promise of secrets - long black lashes. Each with high cheekbones, pale skin and a defined chin. Holding an expression of dignity: Like father, like daughter.

"Rose," he started, and Bri knew she daren't interrupt him, or she would be punished. "you are fifteen now. You will be soon old enough to join us." Bri nodded, she'd heard this before. She heard it so many times, but only now did she ponder what might happen if she didn't choose to join them. It would end in another grave being added to the family graveyard, most likely.

"Yes, Father." she said, biting her tongue.

He surveyed her for a few moments. "Someone came here tonight, who was it."

Bri hesitated. Why did he want to know this? She had left the letter… "It was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy." she added. "He came to deliver a letter. I told him you were out and left the letter on your desk." she indicated to the parchment that was still there.

"You are lying." Bri frowned at his words. She spoke, mistakenly.

"Pardon, Father? I do not understand you…"

"Hush!" he silenced her. Bri bit her lip. "What have I told you about lying to me before, Rose?" Bri cringed.

"Sorry, Father." she murmured.

"Now, you will tell me exactly what happened here tonight, do not miss anything out. Begin." he ordered her.

Frowning, keeping her eyes down and staring at her hands, she told her father everything, about the wine, the kiss…She frowned more when she had finished. She raised her eyes to meet Ciaran's angry ones. Ciaran Eveane was her father, infamous and impossible to capture. One of the most evil dark wizards of his time.

"Draco Malfoy…You are…dating him again?" he spat the word 'dating' with such disgust; Bri seemed to feel physical pain.

"No. He wanted me to, but I didn't." Bri said quietly. She tucked a piece of hair back, behind her ear.

There were a few moments of silence. Ciaran stood up and paced round the desk. He had a whispered conversation with one of the men who had been in her room, the one that smelt of cigars.

"Did you read this letter?" he asked her a moment later. Bri looked at him.

"No. It wasn't addressed to me." she told him, shaking her head.

The man smiled slightly. "At least you have some respect for elders…" he muttered.

Allowed to leave the room a few hours later, she escaped as quickly as possible, confused. She ran down the corridor and back to her room, seeing Loki awaiting her arrival.

"Loki?" she whispered, untying the message from her leg. The reply was brief, written in an overly ornate handwriting, which was familiar and unnecessary.

It followed like so;

I do not like to speak of such things without precautions. Who knows who you might show this letter too, dearest?

If you wish to know, meet me on New Years Eve, my mother and father are holding a party to which your family is invited. I will be in the garden.

(Wear your black dress.)

The letter was signed with an embellished 'D'. She glared with contempt at the last line and the fact he'd called her 'dearest'. Like hell she'd wear any dress. She tore the reply into pieces.

New Year was in six days time. Would she wait? Or would she demand to see him beforehand? She was so desperate to find out. Frowning, she made the decision to wait. He might be a little reluctant to tell her if she met him earlier.

Glaring she deposited the letter in the waste-paper-basket and slipped back into bed, thinking of the people she'd met that evening. One man, in particular, seemed overly interested in her. Ciaran had told her of his name when he introduced them. Roberto Diniz. She frowned and twisted round in her bed with a sigh. Why did so many people concern themselves with her? She was nothing special.

Note: So…read and review me, baby. XD Like I said, be kind.