Disclaimer: As much as I love Harry Potter, he does not belong to me.

She has updated... Okay, wipe those shocked expressions off your faces now. Enjoy the chapter folks!

Bit of a reminder for you as well:

Draco smirked. "They were...they just got a little carried away. Don't worry, I'm planning on having words with them later about their technique; it lacks proper respect for the condition of my bones." He grimaced at Blaise as his nose clicked into place and Blaise began cleaning the dried blood off his nose.

"Bones? Plural?" Blaise sighed and rolled his eyes, "Where else are you injured?"

Draco gave him a wry smile before standing up slowly. He took off his robes and pulled open his shirt, and was shocked as a bright purple bruise was revealed across the left side of his abdomen.

Blaise growled slightly and bent down to inspect it. "Draco, this was bloody close to your diaphragm. If those idiots had hit any harder they could have damaged it." He gently laid a hand across the bruise and pressed lightly. Draco immediately gasped when his airway felt like it had just closed. Blaise released the pressure instantly and gazed worriedly at Draco who was currently clutching his side in pain.

"It's fractured, I think," he diagnosed half exasperated, half concerned. "I can't heal that for you without probably rearranging some important organs by accident. Maybe you should go to Madam Pom-"

"No." Draco's voice was hard. "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to worry the others more than necessary; I mean who knows what Daphne will do if nobody is there to restrain her." He stepped away from Blaise and began changing into his pyjamas slowly.

"Besides, tonight worked. I've definitely got Potter intrigued now."

Classes were hell the next day. His ribs constantly hurt and Blaise kept shooting him angry glances whenever Draco stifled a grunt of pain. By lunchtime Draco was about ready to curse him...or maybe just some irritating Gryffindor that walked past. But what infuriated him the most was the complete and utter indifference Potter treated him with during the few times Draco saw him throughout the day, take after breakfast for example; Draco saw him outside the greenhouses and he didn't even acknowledge Draco, and instead kept his eyes glued firmly to the ground. Draco remembered standing there in bewilderment until a younger Slytherin had come up to him and asked if he was alright.

Draco was quite sure he had growled at them.

He wanted to put Phase Two of his brilliant – if painful plan – into motion tonight. He would definitely be having words with Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent first though. He hadn't seen them last night, which was oddly convenient for them and so inconvenient for Draco. It was probably best though, he as definitely in a worse mood last night than he was now.

Only marginally though.

"Malfoy!"

Draco half turned around at the shout, his ribs creaking ominously with the motion. He hoped to Merlin whoever wanted his attention would oblige him by walking around the desk first. His ribs were becoming increasingly sore due to the jostling motions Draco kept subjecting them to. Students turned around startled at the shout in the usual silence of the library, but as they noticed the voice's possessor they turned back around uninterested.

Draco heard footsteps hurrying towards him and he imperceptibly tensed. The shout itself didn't sound particularly menacing, which in fact narrowed down its owner to a handful of students.

The Slytherins called him Draco, not Malfoy usually. The Ravenclaws were too busy with their books to be speaking to him. The idea of the Hufflepuffs actually having the courage to call him was laughable, and the Gryffindors were sitting too high on their pedestal to lower themselves to his standard.

Well, most of the Gryffindors.

"You called Potter", Malfoy replied dryly when the familiar mop of wild hair came into his view, his shoulders relaxing almost against his will. It was worrying how at ease he was becoming with Potter, the plan was not yet completed after all and Draco needed to be on his guard if it was going to work.

"Yes, I wanted to talk to you about last night," Potter blurted out, chewing his lip almost subconsciously. He looked nervous but determined at the same time.

Perfect.

Draco painted a frown onto his face, his expression he hoped becoming guarded. "I don't really have time for this now, Potter. I have a Defence Against the Dark Arts essay to write." He indicated to the sheet of paper with his elegant script on.

Well he thought it was elegant, it was certainly a good deal better than that awful scrawl Potter wrote.

Potter furrowed his brow – probably wondering if he himself had done that essay yet, the moron – before he relaxed. "Oh, I could always help you if you want Malfoy...I mean, whilst talking to you." Potter looked incredibly confused as if he couldn't fathom why he had just offered homework help to Draco of all people.

That made two of them. Draco didn't snort though, as was his first response. It wouldn't hurt to have Potter intrigue himself in the matter. In fact, it would probably help Draco's case if anything. He would have to play if carefully though, this whole conversation could ruin his plan if he let something slip to Potter that he shouldn't.

"Alright," Draco agreed, letting a small amount of reluctance seep through his voice. Potter didn't look perturbed though and pulled out a library chair next to Draco.

Draco pulled the books he'd been reading on Inferi towards him and began flicking through the pages. He father, Lucius, had discussed this topic with him already, back when he had been-

The familiar lump rose in Draco's throat but he ignored it, now definitely wasn't the time for self pity.

"So Potter, what do you know about Inferi then? I'm betting not a lot," Draco let the corner of his mouth turn upwards, his usual sneer curving his mouth. After all, how much more would Potter be able to glean from these useless textbooks than Draco already had? It wasn't as if Draco himself had ever seen one personally, and frankly he was grateful for that fact. He was a Slytherin after all, self preservation was a must.

It usual was anyway, with the exception of Draco's plan.

Oddly, Potter's eyes turned bitter as he looked at Draco. "You'd be surprised Malfoy." He was thrumming his fingertips lightly on the table top as he waited for Draco to continue writing his essay. Draco reluctantly complied, his interest piqued somewhat.

There was silence for a few minutes; Potter was obviously working up to the question he wanted to ask. Draco was only too happy to let him gather his courage. He listened as Potter's fingers sped up their riff on the wood, betraying his emotions. Draco's own hand was steadily scratching away with his quill on the parchment, adding a few comments here and there, filling the inches gradually.

"Malfoy..." Potter finally spoke, only to let his voice fade away again.

Draco let an irritated puff of air pass through his lips unbidden, hopefully Potter would mistake it as annoyance due to the interruption. He raised his eyebrow at Potter nonetheless, his voice dry. "Potter, spit it out. Your staring is becoming a nuisance." This did the trick and Potter blushed before averting his eyes.

"Malfoy, a Slytherin called Alex Greengrass was admitted into the hospital wing last night. He had similar injuries to you." Potter's eyes really were agonisingly green and Draco let surprise lighten his features unwillingly. How did Potter find out about Daphne's brother? Had been checking up on Draco?

"Your point, Potter?" Draco replied neutrally. Come on Potter, piece together the clues...

Potter looked a little irate at Draco's seemingly uncaring comment. "I wanted to know," he stressed, "If your...attacks were, well...related." He stopped suddenly as if fearing he had said too much. Draco flicked his eyes back to his parchment.

He let his fingers turn the quill over thoughtfully. "Would you care if they were?" he answered loftily.

Potter didn't even look as if he had to ponder this one; instead an outraged expression came over his face. "Of course I would, Malfoy! He's a first year for Merlin's sake! I want to stop these...bullies whoever, they are!"

Draco inwardly smirked. Apparently Potter had grasped the concept of what was happening to the Slytherin house rather quickly. He certainly did it faster than Draco had expected him to.

"Are you sure about that Potter?" Draco once again answered him cryptically, "You don't even know who these bullies are." Or why they're doing this to us, he added silently. Hopefully Potter would work that one out on his own; it definitely brought up too many bad memories between them.

Potter's fists suddenly clenched tightly on the tabletop; his fingers finally still.

"It shouldn't matter, nobody should have the right to terrorize an entire house," Potter spat out forcefully. Obviously his encounter with Alex Greengrass had shook Potter up more than he realised. He certainly had the innocence that Draco himself lacked.

Draco tilted his head thoughtfully. How far could he push Potter? "Really Potter? These bullies seem to almost hate Slytherins, even those who were not at...the final battle." Draco forced those last words out of his mouth. They even tasted bitter now.

Potter eyes grew stormy, realising what Draco had been implying. "Gryffindor had nothing to do with this," he replied lowly, "If I had to hazard a guess I would say it's someone from your own house, looking for revenge." His green eyes flashed as they delivered the insult, and Draco automatically stood up, drawing himself up to his full height in protest.

"That's ridiculous Potter, my house is civilised unlike your rabble of housemates!" Draco snarled, his anger escaping him. Potter jumped up at his words, reluctant to be towered over by Draco.

"Civilised were they when they tortured people for Voldemort?!" Potter sneered, spitefully throwing out the Dark Lord's name as if he didn't have a care in the world. The taboo word floated between as Draco floundered to find something to say back to that horrible allegation.

"Fuck you, Potter!" Excellent Malfoy, way to raise yourself above the peasants, he reprimanded himself silently. Struggling to keep his calm, he gathered up his things and thrust them blindly into his bag. He threw it over his shoulder, ignoring the glare of pain up his side. "You weren't the only one to suffer in the war, Potter. If you got off your pedestal you might realise that." With those parting words, Malfoy stormed from the library, shouldering Potter heavily as he brushed past.

Agony immediately erupted in his ribs and he couldn't breathe properly. He made it to the corridor outside the library before he collapsed against the wall, biting his lip harshly. His breath sounded ragged in his own ears. He closed his eyes tightly as the pain faded to barely manageable levels and took a few experimental breaths. Opening his eyes he nearly choked in surprise.

Harry Potter was staring down at him with an unreadable expression.

"I told you to go to Madam Pomfrey," he said softly. He reached out a hand towards Draco, but Draco stepped away quickly. Embarrassment at being seen in such a venerable position rose in him and he automatically scowled at Potter.

"Don't flatter yourself Potter, I don't need your help and neither does Slytherin," he barked and without another word he strode towards the dungeons his side burning all the while.

Oh Merlin, what had he done? His entire plan rested on Potter becoming a defender of Slytherin, an example to the school, and what had Draco done? He'd gone and alienated him that's what.

He flung himself backwards onto his bed, wincing at the pain but accepting it as punishment. He had let done the entire house, what was the point of even trying anymore?

He barely looked up as Blaise strode into the room, only acknowledging him when Blaise poked him harshly in the leg.

"This is how we'll do it," Blaise announced in a voice that accepted no argument, "I will take Crabbe's place tonight. I will be the one to actually hit you, this way you might actually keep your bones in tact this time. The others will merely be there to look menacing, you understand?" He glared down at Draco, his dark eyes furious.

Draco gazed up at him blankly. "Blaise, I basically told Potter to fuck off." Well actually he had, but that was beside the point. "He's not going to care if I get beaten up again, he'd probably join in." He closed his eyes again weakly, only to be poked again a second later.

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco," Blaise snorted, "this is Potter. He didn't exactly like you the first time, but he still helped you didn't he?" He sat down heavily by Draco's feet and scowled. "Saving kittens and puppies are his thing."

Draco sat up outraged. "Are you comparing me to a kitten, Blaise?!"

Blaise stared blankly. "Yes I suppose I am." A corner of his mouth turned up.

"Now are we going to do this or not?"

Draco frowned, debated whether he had enough energy to argue the kitten point, and then nodded.

They'd picked a different spot this time; it would look too suspicious if Draco was beaten up in the exact same spot. Instead they set up a few corridors away from Gryffindor tower, that way Potter would be able to spot them as he walked back from the Quidditch pitch. They had checked whether the Gryffindor was there – what a surprise, the lazy prick had been – and then rushed to set this up.

Draco would have liked to say he was feeling confident about his plan, but frankly as Blaise, Goyle and Millie advanced on him a thread of apprehension shivered up his spine. His ribs still hurt from last night, and he was still unsure whether Potter would give a damn about his safety anyway.

For some odd reason that Draco really didn't want to investigate, he hoped Potter did care.

As footsteps suddenly echoed along the corridor towards them, Blaise drew out his wand. Draco's eyebrows immediately rose at this, they certainly hadn't mentioned magic being involved in this attack! He opened his mouth to protest but was caught by a silencing charm from Blaise.

"Trust me, Draco," Blaise mouthed and then raised his wand to Draco's chest.

The footsteps along the corridor sped up, their feet pounding against the cold stone floor.

Millie and Goyle raised the wands, but made no motion to open their mouths.

Draco stared at Blaise in disbelief as his mouth slowly formed words.

"Impedimenta!"

Draco felt like an anvil had just been thrown at his chest and he flew backwards to hit the tapestry on the wall behind him. His head collided with a sickening thud and he crumpled down the wall, unable to support his weight. Black dots danced in front of his eyes as he struggled to raise his head from his chest.

Alarmingly he began to slide sideward, his hands not cooperating with his body. He could just imagine the embarrassment of planting face first into the ground when strong – but probably weedy – arms wrapped themselves around his body.

Draco raised his head and tried to focus on Potter's face, uncomfortably aware of a warm liquid trickling down the side of his neck from a probable head wound. The room seemed awfully silent until Potter's voice suddenly filled his hearing.

"Malfoy?! Look at me! Can you hear what I'm saying?!" Panic was evident in the Gryffindor's voice and though Draco would deny it later, something inside him warmed at the tone.

Draco groaned loudly, covering his ears only to pull them away dotted in blood. Bleeding from the ears is never a good sign in Draco's book. "Of course I can bloody hear you Potter, I doubt there's a person in this castle that can't." Or atleast he tried to say. The words were definitely formed by his mouth, but his ears didn't hear anything.

Oh Merlin, was he deaf?

No wait, if he was he wouldn't have been able to hear Potter. He glanced up at the aforementioned Gryffindor who was currently pulling out his own wand. Why had the stupid lout not taken it out when he saw Draco being attacked? Was he really that arrogant to think he could take on all three of them wandless?

Who was Draco kidding, this was Potter.

As Potter levelled the wand at Draco, he couldn't help flinching violently. Being cursed twice in one night didn't really appeal to Draco even if he did deserve it this time.

However, Potter merely muttered, "Finite Incantatem."

Realisation dawned on Draco and he coughed softly. "I said 'Yes Potter, I can hear you.'" Draco replied in reference to Potter's earlier question.

Not strictly true, but close enough.

Draco blinked rapidly to clear the blurriness of his vision. It helped slightly but it made his head hurt something awful.

Potter frowned next to him and scowled.

"Good because after I take you to the hospital wing, we need to talk."

That's all for now...