"Draco, mate, you all right?"
Draco blinked and sat up in bed. The bed hangings had been pulled to one side. The room was dark. Blaise Zabini, clad in monogrammed silk pajamas, was standing over him, his eyes gleaming.
"I . . . what?"
Blaise had never appeared concerned for his welfare before, and certainly never called him "mate."
"It's just. . . ." Blaise popped his knuckles slowly, one at a time, relishing a look of sarcastic glee. "In the common room this evening, you looked a little sick. I'd almost call it . . . lovesick."
Draco swallowed hard. "You saw, didn't you?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Oh, I definitely saw."
Blaise sat down on the edge of Draco's bed.
"I saw you and that. . . Mudblood in the library. No doubt you were just studying, right?"
"We were," Draco said, but his voice squeaked. Even he wouldn't be convinced by that answer.
"Right," Blaise said, leaning back against a bedpost, his eyes cold and joyful. "Right."
He fiddled with the edge of his sleeve, one corner of his mouth twisting upward, his eyes still locked on Draco's.
"So, Draco, it looks like it's quite simple. I have information. You don't want others to have this information."
Draco ran his hand through his hair and gritted his teeth. "How much do you want, Zabini?"
Blaise smiled slowly. "I wouldn't ask how much, Malfoy. I'd ask more like what."
"Fine, then, what?"
"Well." Blaise examined his fingernails leisurely. "There is one thing you could do for me. But I don't know if you'd be willing."
"What?" Draco asked, his voice breaking on the end of the word. "What do you want?"
"Weeeell," Blaise said, smiling slowly as he drew out the word, "let's say you get Ginny Weasley to agree to accompany me to Hogsmeade when I ask her next week."
"What?"
It took all Draco's willpower not to yell. "How on Earth am I supposed to do that?"
"I don't know," Blaise said, grinning evilly, his every word dripping with malice. "Isn't that your department, lover boy?"
He spoke the last part in a whisper, but Draco felt icy chills slither up his spine.
"I tell you what," Blaise went on in an undertone. "Either Ginny agrees when I ask her out next week, or you and Granger become-" he paused, his eyes dancing - "school news. I'm sure I could bribe the little Creevey boy to give me a copy of that photo I saw him taking of the two of you, which I could then duplicate and plaster over every. Single. Desk. In. This. School."
Draco felt the blood drain out of his face. How anyone could be this evil aside from the Dark Lord, he wasn't quite sure. But Blaise wasn't even finished.
"And," he continued softly, a cruel smile twisting one corner of his mouth. "Once I'm doing all that duplicating, wouldn't it be nice if I made an extra copy- and then sent it to your father?"
Draco gasped. He felt like Blaise had just punched him in the stomach.
"You - you wouldn't -"
Blaise's eyes glinted, and a cruel chuckle emitted from his throat. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
Draco swallowed hard. "I'll do it," he whispered. "I don't know how, but I'll do it."
Blaise smiled again and slid off Draco's bed. 'That's what I like to hear," he said quietly. "I look forward to seeing the results of your efforts."
He sauntered off toward the other side of the dormitory, where his bed was. As he reached it, he turned.
"Oh - and Draco?"
"What?" Draco managed to croak.
"Sweet dreams," Blaise said, smiling at him.
Draco slumped back over his pillows as Blaise got into bed and pulled his hangings shut. What he had thought would be a dream come true was turning into the worst nightmare of his life.
"Draco. Draco! Wake up!"
Draco's eyes flew open, and he bolted up into a sitting position. Crabbe was standing beside his bed, still fully dressed from the hospital wing and looking slightly scared.
"You're all sweaty, and you were shaking and twitching and mumbling something," he whispered, his large face pale in the dark. "Something like "Father" and "disown" and something like "beanie" and "wheezy." Are you all right?"
Draco looked at him, breathing hard and trying to calm his racing heart. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he replied hoarsely. "Is there any water left in the jug on the windowsill?"
"I'll go look." Crabbe disappeared into the gloom.
Draco closed his eyes. His dream had been so vivid! Crabbe had been right - he was drenched in icy sweat. He shivered, pulling the blankets closer around himself.
"Here." Crabbe had returned. He pushed a glass tumbler into Draco's trembling hand. "There was still some left."
Draco took a sip, letting the cool water sit in his parched mouth for a moment before swallowing it. Crabbe stood awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do next.
"Do you want me to call Madame Pomfrey?" he offered nervously.
"No," Draco mumbled. "Don't call anyone. I'm fine."
He took another mouthful of water and pulled his hangings shut, signifying that the conversation was over. He heard Crabbe's heavy feet shuffling away, then sank back against his pillows, feeling drained and completely exhausted.
