A/N: Hi! :) So, I was rereading this story one day and realized how much of it I wanted to change. Now that I finished the whole story, I kind of wanted to rewrite in a way that tied in more. This one was pretty out of place in comparison to everything else. So, I changed a few things. I took out all the parts written by J.K. Rowling since it was pointless to have it written here (even though I'm trying to keep it in canon).

The chapters might be different too, since I'm making them longer/shorter, etc. Hope you enjoy this new revised version. 8.6.12

Thought I might also put in a disclaimer :P Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter. The only thing I own is Brooke Miller. Just in case that was never clear. ;) 8.19.12

She sat at the fountain, one leg propped up to rest her arm. The smooth skin across her hand turned to a soft orange and a layer of glossy fur ran up to her elbow. She smiled at her work, retracting her claws.

In the corner of her eye she could plainly see the green robes and platinum blonde hair that reeked of Malfoy.

Eventually Brooke decided to look up.

"You have ten seconds to explain to me why I shouldn't use your face as a scratching post," she said calmly while transfiguring both of her arms back to that of a tiger.

"Hm," he chuckled, "You wouldn't dare mess up a face like mine," Malfoy scooted closer. Despite his smirk, he glanced uncertainly at her paws. He gently grasped them and pushed them to a safe distance away.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" said Brooke, slipping quickly out of his hands. This proved her sanity and the loss of his. Malfoy had been acting odd the entire year; except the unsurprising insult or two, but even those were tame. She hadn't forgotten him picking up her books, having fallen from the table after the bell in Transfiguration. Just when she was about to smack him with her book bag, Brooke realized he came over to help instead of kicking them further away.

"I can't have a small little chat?" said Malfoy.

"No, I do find you a bit incapable of a civil conversation," Brooke replied, meaning to shoo him away, however backfiring when he actually laughed.

"You know, I heard from a little someone that Potter turned you down as a date to the ball," he said scathingly.

"Well you better get your rumors straight, seeing as he hasn't even asked me, nor have I asked him," replied Brooke, feeling her cheeks turn red.

"Brilliant. You'll go with me, then," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

Brooke froze, trying to find the catch. Or to at least say something, instead of gaping at him. "Mm…I-I don't know. That spider on your hand seems to take more fancy to you than myself."

Malfoy's hand jumped up, slipped and grabbed onto the stone of the fountain, inches from falling straight into the water. She couldn't help but laugh and help him up.

"Maybe you shouldn't use so much grease in that hair of yours. You're slipping all over the place."

"Ha. Ha. You're so clever," he joked in tone that Brooke never heard. It was just sarcastic joke. No deep contempt, loathing or sneer behind it. "Meet you at seven?" he smiled with a cocky eyebrow.

Something was happening to her and the first thing to pop into her mind was some kind of hex or curse that he must be using. Just ten minutes ago, she could feel the bile rising in her throat with the way he pranced around the school. His smirk she could just smack square in his face to have him running off like a scared mouse.

"You said yes?" Hermione's voice squeaked and received a scornful look from the hook nosed Madame Pince in the library.

"No- Well, yes, I did say yes, but I don't know why. But he was…he was actually nice," explained Brooke, realizing the oddity of the statement.

"Are you even sure it was Malfoy?" said Hermione. She abandoned her Potions essay, leaving the parchment and quill sitting patiently to be taken up again.

"Of course I'm sure it was Malfoy. Who else would it be?" whispered Brooke.

"Well, I don't know. But he isn't exactly nice to you," Hermione wore that same look as Ron had when he received his hand me down dress robes.

The more she thought about it, it did seem quite strange of him to come up to her being nice and even having the nerve to ask her to the dance. It must be a joke of some kind. And to think, she was an inch away from letting her thoughts roam to the unthinkable, the unlikely and laughable idea that perhaps, Malfoy was worth fancying.

Everywhere she walked girls were gossiping, huddled in their circles discussing who asked who and what to wear. The boys, on the other hand, were asking left and right, with their friends pushing them to go and keeping them from chickening out. It made her insides squirm from the mere sight of it all. What she needed right now was peace and quiet, especially from anything Yule Ball related.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and herself would walk out to the lake or in the more peaceful parts of the woods Hagrid had shown them. But sometimes, Brooke liked to go by herself, like now.

She breathed in the fresh lake air and sat on a nearby rock, curling half of her face away into her scarf.

It was probably a joke, she though. Yes, that was it. Malfoy planned on asking her to the ball, attempting to make her think he fancied her, then stand her up and laugh as he walked away with his real date. And to think that she had been thinking of him as more than a slimeball in the past couple of weeks.

A rustle of leaves sounded behind her, but she waved it away, thinking it only the fault of the wind.

"Brooke?" someone said.

"Malfoy?" she said, surprised, never coming across the thought of the peace of the lake intertwining with the image of the morally inept boy.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, apprehensively.

"I should ask the same thing. It seems like you just show up now. Stalking me no doubt?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he wore a sympathetic expression and dramatically placed his hand on his chest. "I didn't realize this was your part of the lake. Pardon me for intruding."

Brooke rolled her eyes and nestled back into her scarf.

To her surprise, Malfoy walked a couple paces to where she was and sat down beside her in the sand.

She was put on her guard immediately, hand twitching for her wand at any slight suspicion.

"I would never have imagined you coming to this spot. So peaceful and beautiful. I thought you'd fancy looking at mirror," said Brooke.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You know, you're pretty funny for someone with no sense of humor."

"What are you up to, Malfoy?" she glared. "I'm not in the mood for any of your stupid pranks."

For a split second, she saw a pained expression. But before she could give it any thought it became nonchalant and Malfoy cocked an eyebrow.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Brooke sighed and looked back at the lake.

"It's nice out here," he said softly.

She nodded.

They sat in an awkward silence for a while. Brooke was fidgeting with her fingers, debating in her head whether or not she should leave. Just as she decided, he laughed.

"What?" Brooke asked, confused.

"Nothing," he smiled, clearly amused.

"What?" she said angrily.

"It's nothing. It's just," he squinted in thought, "I'm surprised you let me sit here with you. You're not exactly the welcoming type."

Her cheeks flushed in irritation. "Maybe not to someone who has tormented me and my friends for the past four years."

"I admit, not my best moments-"

"Not your best moments?" Brooke nearly yelled. "You've been calling my best friend a mudblood ever since you met her. And don't get me started on what you do to Harry and Ron!"

His eyes were wide with interest and surprise. She wasn't going to break their eye contact, instead glaring at him with as much disgust as she could muster.

"You didn't mention how I always call you a conceited freak of nature," he said.

If it was possible, Brooke narrowed her eyes even more and stood up.

"You can find yourself another date for the dance," she muttered.

"Wait, Brooke," Malfoy grabbed her wrist, still smiling a little.

She wrenched her arm away and when she was only about two feet away, she heard him say something that made her stop in her tracks.

"I'm sorry."

She turned around. His face was unreadable.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "For everything."

Silence passed between them as she stared, trying to make sense of his words. After opening her mouth a couple times, Brooke swallowed and walked briskly towards the castle. If he made any sign of malice or sincerity, she didn't catch it.

"Hey, where did you go? We were looking for you," Harry called after her from the entrance of the Great Hall.

"Oh, I just needed some air," she said. It really wasn't a lie.

Harry and Ron nodded, but Hermione gave her an inquiring look. Knowing there was no reason not to tell someone who could figure out what happened within that ten seconds, Brooke mouthed, "Later."

"We were about to head to the common room so that Hermione can finish up our essays," Ron held up two scrolls of parchment.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I said I'd help, not write it for you."

A few hours later, Brooke's essay was finally finished. Hermione practically did write it for her, since she kept finding herself staring at a spot in the air. It was far from Brooke's normal work. Considering that her mind was reeling on something completely different from Potions, it was acceptable.

Harry, Ron and Hermione threw their quills and essays into their bookbags and called it a night.

"You go up ahead," Brooke said to Hermione after bidding the boys a goodnight. "I think I'm going to just reread this over one more time."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked, not talking about the essays anymore.

"Uh, yeah," she nodded. "I'll be up there in a minute, though."

As soon as the door closed, Brooke sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. There was no reason to get so worked up over a small and insignificant conversation.

But it was significant.

She never thought it was possible for Malfoy to apologize. And even if he did, it didn't necessarily mean he meant it.

So, why did it matter to her so much.

Shaking her head, Brooke walked up into the dorm and found Hermione sitting on her bed, looking at her, waiting for her to explain.

"What happened with Malfoy?"

Brooke restrained herself from rolling her eyes at hearing his name and the foreign feeling in her stomach that now came with it.

"I'm not sure, exactly," she said, sitting across from Hermione. She was waiting for her to continue.

"He…apologized," Brooke told her.

"For asking you to the dance?"

Brooke shook her head. "He didn't exactly say what he was sorry for. But he said he was sorry for everything."

Hermione gave her a skeptical look. "Do you think he meant it?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "I'm just thinking too much."

Crawling into her covers, Brooke really wasn't sure of Malfoy's intentions and if he genuinely felt sorry. It didn't matter though, since she was never going to trust him. The only problem was that Brooke wanted to.

The next morning, after eating breakfast with Harry, Ron and Hermione, she received a letter from a handsome black owl none of them had recognized.

the lake after breakfast -Draco

As soon as she opened the note, she hurriedly closed it back up with shaking hands just in time as both Ron and Harry tried peering over to see what it said. "Oh, just something from my sister. I'll read it later, I'm starving," she kept her head down to her plate, but looked at Hermione, who quickly got the clue.

She couldn't bring herself to look over at the Slytherin table, but a good ten minutes later Ron nodded his head to Draco and his posse leaving, "Well, we all know who Malfoy's taking to the ball."

"Oh, who?" Hermione couldn't help but ask and suppressed her giggles.

"Pansy Parkinson, of course," Ron stuffed half and egg in his mouth, "I'm sure she begged 'im to go wif 'im."

"Yeah, probably," said Brooke, her face well hid behind her goblet as she took a sip, "And if you want a date too, you should learn to swallow before you talk."

"Well it's not like you both have dates yet," Ron swallowed and paused for a second, "Do you have dates yet?" Both he and Harry stopped eating, waiting for an answer.

"As a matter of fact we both have gotten asked," said Hermione.

"Someone asked you?" Ron blurted out, "Who?"

"You're surprised someone asked me?!"

Harry and Brooke exchanged looks and went back to eating, expecting yet another argument from the two of them. Occasionally, when it was just Harry and Brooke together alone, they would talk about how amazingly oblivious the two were to their own feelings, more Ron than anything though. Whenever either of them brought it up, they would deny it and change the subject not quite smoothly. Brooke drained down the rest of her pumpkin juice and got up. "I'll meet up with you guys later."

"Wait, wait," Ron interrupted Hermione's retaliation, "You haven't even told us who you're going with?"

"You'll just have to find out then won't you…if I decide to take off my mask?"

Brooke turned around and walked, eager to get to the lake and not leave Draco waiting, but several times, she almost decided to turn around and go back to the Great Hall. In all the indecisiveness, she eventually ended up staring at the back of Draco's blonde head, regretting she came. Her feet were about to move backwards into the trees, but he turned around.

"Hey," he said, suddenly standing up.

"Morning," she said tightly.

"Morning," Malfoy nodded back. The air was chilly and she could see his deep breath dissolve into the air.

"Why am I here, Malfoy?" she asked impatiently.

"You're not very good at conversations, are you?"

Brooke started to head back towards the castle.

"Brooke!" he groaned, running to catch up with her.

"Did you really tell me to come all the way down here so that you can insult me?" she whipped around. "You can do that anywhere, you know. You already do."

"I'm only joking around with you," he tried explaining.

"Is that what you think you do? That you just joke around?"

His amused smile faded.

"You're a git, Malfoy," she glared.

"I know that," he smirked. "You, on the other hand…"

"Am what?" she challenged. Brooke took a step closer to him, but he did the same.

"Condescending-"

"Condescending? Oh, please do explain. I'd love to hear it."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's the way you prance around with your little freakish orange paws," Malfoy retorted. She knocked down his hands held up in front of her and held his wrist more tightly than she meant to.

"If anyone prances around anywhere, it's you and your stupid cronies!"

"At least we don't run around being Dumbledore's lap dogs and pawing for a chance to be glorified heroes of the wizarding world!"

He was being unbelievable. Brooke had to restrain herself from breaking his wrist right on the spot.

"Your point of view is so twisted," she hissed through her teeth. She jerked her arm in anger, accidentally tugging him closer.

"Because yours is always correct, right goody two-shoes?" he said, dripping with malice.

"Is that it? That's why you hate me and my friends?"

"No, I dislike your friends. It's just you that I hate!" he whispered fiercely, inches from her face.

"Me? You hate just me? I've never done anything to you," she gaped, feeling her eyes water from frustration. "So, why?"

He frowned and glanced down at her lips, causing her to do the same to his. They twitched as if wanted to say something.

Right after he caught her eyes, Draco's arms gripped around her waist and shoulders, enveloping her lips with his own. For the first second, she didn't know what was going on. But the next second, she didn't care. He was so close that Brooke could feel his quick heartbeat right above hers, along with his hand tangled in her hair.

Slowly, they pulled apart.

Their foreheads were pressed together as they caught their breath. The dark, ravenous gaze he wore rang a million bells through her head and Brooke hurriedly pulled herself away from him.

This brought Malfoy out of his own stupor and he held his hand to his head. She might have thought he had a headache if she didn't feel a little woozy too.

"Well, that was," he trailed off, the look of delight turning into fear, "We're not mentioning this to anyone."

"First time we agree on something," she said, still focused on the electrified feeling on her mouth.

Then he walked back to the castle swiftly.

Finally getting a grip on herself, she ran her fingers through her hair.

"What in the hell," she breathed.