Disclaimer: I own not the awesomeness that is the Harry Potter world/franchise/canon. That's JK Rowling. Also some of this chapter is taken directly from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Those words are JK Rowling's and I'm using them to help make my story fit in the canon better, but I'm not claiming they are mine. I'm just another being who loves to write, and this is what I got:

VII. Back to School

The morning after the Welcoming Feast and Umbridge's ridiculous speech to the school, not to mention the stupid Sorting Hat's new song, Draco found himself sitting across from Pansy Parkinson as Snape handed out their schedules.

Just as Pansy began opening her mouth to spout something about Millicent Bulstrode's snoring, the Golden Quartet entered, following some Ravenclaws into the Great Hall. They stopped and glanced at the staff table, and then both Potter and Arabella looked up at the sky. She nudged him and said something that made him smile. Draco's stomach did a jealous flip. As they took their seats, Draco looked to the staff table, and then realized who they were missing: that great oaf Hagrid.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape drew his attention away, handing him his schedule. "See you later this morning," he clipped his words, eyeing him pointedly.

"What was that about?" Blaise asked, but Draco waved him off, turning back to spy on the Gryffindors. Unfortunately Angelina Johnson was blocking his view, discussing what Draco assumed was Quidditch with Potter and Arabella. And then, as if to spite him, as soon as she moved away, the owls arrived. They descended all over the Hall, bringing letters and packages to their owners and showering the breakfasters with droplets of water; it was clearly raining outside. Draco received an owl with two letters, one each from his mother and father. But he didn't bother to open them. He had a good idea of what they both said. Just as Arabella leaned over the breakfast table to look at something Granger had received, Professor McGonnagall returned to her side, though she had already completed the task of handing out schedules. She handed Arabella a small piece of paper and then tipped her hat before leaving the Great Hall. Arabella opened the slip of paper, which could hardly hold any words at all, based on its size. Potter leaned in, till their heads were almost touching. Draco felt that pang of jealousy again, and he was especially angry that he was jealous of Potter of all people. He watched the two friends as they exchanged some words, and then Arabella stood to leave, her breakfast half-finished. He looked up to the staff table to find Snape had disappeared as well, as had the Headmaster. It was about time for classes, so the students were beginning to file out of the Great Hall. Draco fell behind his friends on their way to Herbology, slipping into the men's room down the hall. He had a pretty good idea where everyone of those people had disappeared to, and he was far to curious to go to classa and not find out if his hunch was right. Once he was sure the halls were clear and that classes had begun, he snuck out from the washroom and headed back towards the gargoyle that guarded the staircase to Dumbledore's office. He paced for a few minutes, checking the time every so often. So much time went by, he began to worry that he'd missed class for nothing. But finally, he heard the creaking of the staircase as it began rotating, indicating someone was descending. Rearranging his worried facial expression into a smirk, he leaned against the wall just beside the gargoyle, one foot resting against the wall and his arms crossed.

Sure enough, Arabella came barreling around the corner, nearly colliding with him as he stood there. She stumbled back, jumping with fright, one hand clutching her heart as she realized it was just Draco.

"Merlin, Malfoy," she exclaimed. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Did you have a nice meeting with the Headmaster?" Draco asked, his voice cold and accusatory, still leaning against the wall

"Pardon?" she feigned innocence.

They eyed each other for a moment. And when the silence broke, they spoke simultaneously:

"Don't play dumb with me,"

"Shouldn't you be in class?"

Draco had pushed off the wall to face her, pointing a finger at her, while Arabella narrowed her eyes at him, standing her ground with defiance.

"We're late for class," she said, her irritation obvious as she pushed past him to walk down the hall. "And at least I, unlike you, have a note," she said mockingly. "We can discuss this later."

"Where are you going?" he asked, falling into step with her.

"To class," she said, as if he were a dunce.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, "Yes, obviously. I meant which one?"

"Magic of History," she said, then shaking her head, "I mean, History of Magic."

"Perfect, that's on the way to the Greenhouse. I can escort you there."

She sent him a nasty look that said she'd rather have her head shaved than have him escort her anywhere, but he chose to ignore it.

"So what was that little meeting about?" Draco asked.

"I said, we'll discuss it later," Arabella said through gritted teeth, lengthening her steps to quicken the pace.

"Ah, yes," Draco said snidely, "but we both know that won't happen. Not really."

"You question my integrity?" Arabella feigned hurt.

"Integrity, no; sincerity, yes," came his reply as they rounded the corner. He saw the flicker of a smirk on her face from his peripheral vision.

"Oh look! Fancy that! Here's my class!" she said, skipping ahead.

"Ara—"

"—Ta ta for now!"

And she was through the door.

"—bella..."

Damn.

Double Potions with the Gryffindors was scheduled for the block before lunch that day, just as Snape had told them during the summer. So it wasn't too long before Draco saw Arabella again. When the dungeon door creaked open, the class filed in, and the Golden Quartet took their usual table in the back on the left side of the classroom. Foreseeing this, but wanting to be able to spy on them, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle hung back as well to take the table next to them on the right side of the aisle.

"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him. There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence. Draco shot a glance towards Arabella. Even she was sitting up, prim and proper, ready and attentive.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and starting around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of the class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my...displeasure."

His gaze lingered this time upon Longbottom, who gulped. Draco smirked and shared a look with Blaise, who was sitting in front of him.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye."

His eyes rested on Potter and his lip curled.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T.," his gaze rested on Draco and then on Arabella for just a little longer than necessary, "or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Levels: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation."

Draco stole a glance at Arabella, who had suddenly become interested in adjusting her red and gold uniform tie. He knew that Snape had given her this same potion during her stay at Malfoy Manor. He wondered if she was still taking it on a regular basis.

"Be warned," Snape continued, "If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients, you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing."

Draco saw Granger sit up a little straighter on Potter's left, as Arabella sank down in her chair on his right.

"The ingredients and method" – Snape flicked his wand – "are on the blackboard" – (they appeared there) – "you will find everything you need" – he flicked his wand again – "in the store cupboard" – (the door to the said cupboard sprang open) – "you have an hour and a half...Start."

As predicted, the potion was just as difficult and fiddly as Snape had indicated. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in counterclockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.

"A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go.

Draco looked triumphantly at the silver vapor rising from his cauldron.

"Very good, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said as he passed by. Snape thankfully refrained from looking at either Crabbe's or Goyle's potions, which both looked (and smelled) dangerous. He did, however, make his way over to the Gryffindors. Finnigan's was nearly on fire, Weasley's was spitting green sparks, even Potter's was issuing copious amounts of dark gray steam. Only Granger and Arabella had the same shimmering mist of silver vapor. He passed by Granger's cauldron without a comment, meaning he had nothing to criticize. Continuing on, he stopped in front of Potter, looking down at him with a horrible smirk on his face.

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"

Draco and his friends all turned eagerly to look; they loved hearing Snape taunt Potter.

"The Draught of Peace," said Potter tensely.

"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"

Draco laughed, but when he met Arabella's fierce stare, it faded instantaneously.

"Yes, I can," said Potter, his fingers clenched tightly around his wand. Arabella turned back to her friend's plight.

"Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter."

Harry squinted at the blackboard; it was not easy to make out the instruction through the haze of multicolored steam now filling the dungeon.

"'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.'"

"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"

"No," said Harry very quietly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," said Harry, more loudly. "I forgot the hellebore..."

"I know you did, Potter, which means that his mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco."

The contents of Harry's potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron. Draco snickered.

"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday.

Draco took to the task of ladling some of his potion into a flask and labeling it. He looked out of the corner of his eye. Potter was seething, as he went about clearing away his things.

"Maybe we should sit up front next time," Arabella suggested quietly.

"I can see just fine," Potter snapped at her. "There's nothing wrong with my eyes."

"I didn't say there was," she said curtly. "I'm having trouble seeing through the mist, too, though."

"I can see just fine! I just forgot—"

"—Harry, I know!" Arabella cut him off. "I'm on your side. Don't yell at me."

"Don't tell me your on my side when Snape's on yours," he snapped.

"Harry!" Granger scolded. "It's not her fault."

"I'm not saying this is fair," Arabella said curtly. "In fact, frankly, it's not. There are other potions much worse than yours," she motioned to Longbottom, who was trying to gouge his thick gray potion out of his cauldron. She lowered her voice to a whisper, "And I've seen this made before."

Potter opened his mouth to yell, but stopped when he saw Draco watching over Arabella's shoulder.

"What are you looking at?" he asked coldly.

"Nothing, obviously," Draco replied, looking him up and down.

Arabella sent him a cold look as he went to place his flask up at the front of the room. When he made to return to his seat, Arabella was making her way to the front to deliver her own. Draco made sure to walk in such a way that their shoulders brushed more than just a little as they passed. When Draco'd gotten to his seat, Goyle's flagon had shattered from his boorish attempt at the Draught of Peace and had set his robes on fire. Snape quickly made his way from the front of the room to control the conflagration. The Gryffindors were eerily silent as they cleaned their potions away and began placing ingredients back in the store cupboard. Most of the class was nearly finished clearing their things when the bell rang.

"Miss Riddle, Mr. Malfoy, please stay after," Snape clipped his words. He said his as he organized parchment at his desk, betraying nothing.

"What's that about?" Potter asked angrily.

Draco couldn't see her face, but he'd bet 5 galleons Arabella was rolling her eyes, "How should I know?"

Draco saw Granger send Arabella a sympathetic look. "We'll save you a place at lunch," she said, hoisting her book bag onto her shoulder. Potter was the last person to leave, sending a suspicious glance back at Draco and Snape. He didn't say anything to Arabella, who looked after him miserably.

"Approach," came Snape's cold voice from the front of the room.

Arabella sent Draco a very censorious look as she placed her book bag on her seat before walking beside him down the aisle to the front of the room.

Snape turned to regard the two students.

"I am pleased to see you two didn't misplace your potion-making skills over the summer," he said, looking over his long nose at them. "How are classes faring?"

"We've only had one so far, besides Potions," Arabella said, her voice flat and her arms crossed in front of her.

"Which Arabella was late to," Draco tattled.

"And so were you!" she turned on him immediately.

"Because I was keeping an eye on you!"

"Enough squabbling," Snape's voice curtly cut through their childish banter.

"Mr. Malfoy, your late arrival at class cannot be excused because of other duties. I do believe Professor Sprout already saw to the proper deduction of house points."

"But she was—" he began, motioning to Arabella.

"—in a private meeting with the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress—"

"But—"

"—which is none of your business or concern," Snape finished.

Draco crossed his arms in front of him, matching Arabella's moody stance. Snape's gaze flitted between the two teens, before he rolled his eyes at them.

"Now, as to your reports," Snape said, moving on, "I have taken the liberty to look at both your schedules. Mr. Malfoy, you will be meeting with me here on Monday and Thursday directly after your post-lunch class. Miss Riddle, you will report here on Wednesday mornings while Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are in Divination and Miss Granger is in Arithmancy; and again on Friday ten minutes into your scheduled break. That should give you ample time to traverse the necessary corridors from your Ancient Runes class, should it not?"

"Yes, sir," Arabella said, her arms still crossed.

"Additionally, you both will report to my office on Tuesday evenings at 7 o'clock. Mr. Malfoy you will arrive five minutes late so that neither of you seem conspicuously linked."

"Because sneaking away from friends to meet with you and being the Malfoys' ward all of a sudden isn't conspicuous or anything already," said Arabella sarcastically. Draco couldn't help but smirk.

"That is more than enough cheek for one day, Miss Riddle. You wouldn't want your father hearing about this, would you?"

"No, sir," she looked at her shoes.

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy, you are dismissed," Snape said.

Both students looked up at their professor with surprise. He held their gaze for a moment.

"Mr. Malfoy, you. Are. Dismissed."

Draco coughed slightly, and muttered, "Uh, yes, sir," before promptly turning on his heel to go. He lingered a little too long picking up his things, he guessed, based on the loud clearing of the throat and icy glare Snape sent his way as he finally scurried from the classroom. What could Snape possibly want to talk to Arabella about that he couldn't discuss with Draco as well? Draco walked only half-way down the hall before stopping to linger and wait. Ten minutes later, Arabella exited the dungeons. He heard the echoing click-clack of her Mary Janes before he looked up to see her, that purple book bag slung over her shoulder again. She strode right past him, without acknowledging his presence.

"What did Snape want?"

She actually stopped to stare him in the face.

"You are unbelievable, you know that?" she snapped at him. "Don't you think Snape dismissed you because what he wanted to discuss with me was none of your business? Did that occur to you? Or do you think everything is about you?"

"Whoa, what's got you irked enough to bite my head off?" he asked defensively.

But Arabella simply threw her hands in the air with a growl before stalking once again towards the Great Hall and lunch, muttering "I hate the first day of classes!"

The next morning, Draco was pleased to see his father's owl swoop down during breakfast to deliver a note to him. Gulping down one last glugg of pumpkin juice, Draco excused himself from the table early. Halfway through the entrance hall, he removed the letter from where he'd tucked it in his robes and ripped the seal off. He made his way through the front doors and into the courtyard, reading as he went.

Draco,

Well done. Perhaps your observations will make up for your obvious failure at the Platform. It is believed that the half-breed is with his "people." No doubt the HM sent him to try and convince the "them" to join their cause, knowing full well the DL has already acquired the loyalty of most.

Your mother sends her love. To Arabella as well.

We expect an update tonight.

Your Father

So Hagrid was with the giants. Draco smirked before turning to get to class.

After lunch, Draco and the Slytherins made their way down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest for Care of Magical Creatures. As they approached, Draco caught sight of Potter and Weasley, just joining the already jabbering Granger and Arabella.

Draco nudged Blaise beside him, but spoke loud enough for all of the Slytherins walking with him to hear, "How long do you think it'll take for Potter to cry?"

"Over what?" Blaise played along.

"No Hagrid to fawn all over him in class," Draco continued. "At least this year class will actually resemble it's name: Care of Magical Creatures instead of Care of Blood-thirsty, Wizard-attacking, Deadly 'but tragically misunderstood creatures'" he finished, mimicking Hagrid's manner and voice.

The Slytherins gave a loud shout of laughter, more just to anger Potter than because Draco's comment had been terribly hilarious. Sure enough, Potter and Weasley turned to watch Draco and Slytherins approach.

"A galleon he'll last one lesson without mentioning the oaf," Blaise said to Draco.

"Not even a lesson," Draco shook his hand, as Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy continued to snigger, looking over at Potter, who continued to notice until Arabella pulled his attention away, much to Draco's disdain.

"Everyone here?" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived. "Let's crack on then—who can tell me what these things are called?"

She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. As expected, Granger's hand shot into the air. Draco pulled out his best impression of her, jutting his upper teeth over his lip to look buck-toothed and jumping up and down in mock-eagerness. Pansy gave a shriek of laughter that turned almost into a scream, as the twigs on the table leapt into the air and revealed their pixieish selves. They were creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand, and a funny, flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle brown eyes glittered.

"Oooooh!" said Patil and Brown. Draco rolled his eyes, but just caught a glimpse of an irritated Potter sending them a nasty glance.

"Kindly keep your voices down, girls!" said Professor Grubbly-Plank sharply, scattering a handful of what looked like brown rice among the stick-creatures, who immediately fell upon the food.

"So—anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?"

"Bowtruckles," said Hermione. "They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees."

"Five points for Gryffindor," said Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Yes, these are bowtruckles and, as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?"

"Wood lice," said Granger promptly, which explained why the little brown rice were actually moving. "But fairy eggs if they can get them."

"Good girl, take another five points. So whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of wood lice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will gouge out human eyes with their fingers—"

Draco caught Arabella shiver uncomfortable, as she continued to scribble down notes on a piece of parchment attached to a slate of wood.

"—which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and a bowtruckle—I have enough here for one between three—you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson."

The class surged forward around the trestle table. Draco watched to see how the Golden Quartet would split up, hoping he could get Arabella into his drawing group. Potter circled around back, leaving Arabella with Ron and Granger, until he was standing next to Professor Grubbly-Plank near where Draco was standing.

"Where's Hagrid?" he asked her, while everyone else was choosing bowtruckles. Draco couldn't help but nudge and smirk at Blaise.

"That doesn't count, he's not crying," Blaise muttered under his breath.

"Never you mind," said Professor Grubbly-Plank repressively, which had been her attitude last time Hagrid had failed to turn up to class too. Draco leaned across Harry to seize the largest bowtruckle, smirking widely. Draco was overly pleased that he knew more about the Hogwarts groundkeeper than even Potter did.

"Maybe," he said in an undertone, so only Potter could hear, "the stupid great oaf's got himself badly injured."

"Maybe you will if you don't shut up," replied Potter out of the side of his mouth.

And Draco couldn't resist.

"Maybe he's been messing with stuff that's too big for him, if you get my drift," Draco said, and then walked away, smirking over his shoulder at Potter, who suddenly paled.

Draco went to join Crabbe and Goyle, catching sight of Arabella talking with Granger, her hand on the bushy-haired girls arm as they faced different directions, until Arabella went to join Patil and Brown in drawing. Something was going on within the Golden Quartet; Arabella hadn't said a word to Potter or Weasley. He turned his attention back to bowtruckle at hand. He pulled out a piece of parchment and began drawing the creature.

"So what's with Grubbly-Plank?" Goyle asked curtly.

"Whad'ya mean?" Crabbe asked.

"Why is she here instead of Hagrid?" Goyle continued. "Do you think Hagrid got sacked?"

Draco raised his eyebrows and just barely nodded his head back toward Potter to indicate he wanted to make sure Potter heard him. The other two boys nodded and smirked.

"Yes," Malfoy made sure his voice had a clear drawl of superiority. "Father was talking to the Minister just a couple of days ago, you know, and it sounds as though the Ministry's really determined to crack down on substandard teaching in this place. So even if that overgrown moron does show up again, he'll probably be sent packing straight away."

"OUCH!"

Potter had given the shout in pain, obviously having been bitten or scratched by the bowtruckle he was squeezing. Draco knew he'd gotten to the scarhead, but he refrained from laughing just long enough to send the be-speckled boy a disdainful look. Crabbe and Goyle, who had already been guffawing at the idea of Hagrid being sacked, laughed still harder as the the bowtruckle set off at full tilt toward the forest, a little, moving stickman soon swallowed up by the tree roots. When the bell echoed distantly over the grounds, the Slytherins rolled up their bowtruckle pictures and headed back up to Charms. On the way up, Draco watched the Gryffindors carefully. Arabella hung back and walked with Brown and Patil, listening to their idle prattle about boys and clothes. The Gryffindors took a detour to the greenhouse for Herbology, as the Slytherins continued on into the castle.

After dinner, Draco excused himself from the Slytherin House table, where his friends were dawdling, eating sweets and swapping stories, trying to delay returning to the dormitories or the library to start in on the mountain of homework they'd already been assigned. He'd watched Arabella leave her respective table earlier. Their eyes had met briefly, and Draco nodded his head at her in indication that he'd see her soon. The halls were nearly empty as he made his way down to the dungeons. He passed a few older students leaving the Slytherin Common Room, their book bags laden down, headed in the direction of the library or study hall classroom. He continued on toward the Potions classroom, and as he approached, he heard voices. He quieted his footsteps so those within wouldn't hear his approach. He leaned against the wall just outside Snape's office, breathing lightly and struggling to hear:

"I don't understand why I have to go by Miss Riddle now," came Arabella's voice.

"Because your father requires it," Snape responded curtly.

"He rejected his father's last name, why is he now forcing it upon me?"

"It is the name on your birth certificate."

"Says who?" came Arabella's skeptical voice. Draco just imagined her crossing her arms in front of her and her hip popped out. There was silence, which Draco took to mean Snape was giving her a significant look.

"I'm just so tired of trying to explain to everyone why you and Umbridge are calling me Miss Riddle all of a sudden—not even! It's just you—and then Umbridge had to go and ask me in front of the whole class what name I chose." Arabella's voice hitched at the end, as if she were about to cry.

"What are the other professors calling you?" came Snape's skeptical voice.

"The same as always," she said softly, "Miss Bella."

Snape growled and said something under his breath that Draco couldn't make out.

"There's no reason for them to change what they call me after so many years!" she insisted.

"Riddle is your last name," Snape said tartly, "Because your father rejected it, few know it is his actual last name. And he'll keep it that way until the Ministry discovers his return is real."

"And then what? I'll be little lady Voldemort?" the sarcasm was so thick, Draco swore he heard a drip-drop of it fall to the floor.

There was a hiss as Snape reacted to her use of the Dark Lord's name aloud. "You'll be careful with your language in these walls."

"Dumbledore says the fear of the name—"

"I know perfectly well what the Headmaster believes," Snape interrupted, correcting her casual use of the Headmaster's name.

"Plus, there's only one Gryffindor who doesn't believe Harry—"
"And dozens of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws," Snape interrupted her. "Be more careful."

Arabella continued, her voice now filled with sorrow, "It's common knowledge now that I was with the Malfoys this summer. How am I to explain that? It's only a matter of time till they find out about who I am."

Draco was filled with a sudden anguish that the pleasure he derived from her presence this summer was causing her pain.

"And that," Snape said curtly, but softly, "is when you'll discover who your real friends are."

"Everyone will hate me."

"Do Harry, Hermione or Ron hate you?"

"Hermione doesn't," she said softly and slowly.

"And Potter?"

"He's angry at me for some reason. I don't know what I did!"

"Aside from successfully completing the Draught of Peace, I would guess nothing," Snape said snidely, "And who cares what Weasley thinks?"

Arabella let out a giggled choked by a sob.

"And you would do well not to write off Draco so quickly," Snape continued. Arabella sniffed, but this time in disapproval not because of her tears. "Don't roll your eyes at me, Miss Riddle. Remember that when you are abandoned for your name, Draco will still be there for you."

"You mean he'll be there for my father," Arabella insisted, and Draco felt his heart sink. "I will never be able to tell him anything while second-guessing what he'll tell the Dark Lord."

Snape let out an indignant "humph" before saying in an uncharacteristically sing-song voice, "Don't judge a book by it's cover."

"I don't think being acquainted with someone for four years constitutes a snap-judgement," Arabella said darkly.

"Yes, but reading the summary and reading cover-to-cover are two very different things."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Permission granted."

"Don't give up your day job," Arabella said, "Your analogies stink."

Snape chuckled gently in a manner Draco'd never heard.

"It's more than five past, we should be expecting Draco soon," Snape's snippy voice returned. "It would be beneficial for you to act as if we didn't have this little discussion prior to Draco arriving. Do you understand?"

"What discussion?" Arabella replied sweetly. The little joke made Draco smirk.

"Exactly."

There was a silence, which Draco let settle as he silently backpedaled down the hall. He wanted his re-approaching footsteps to echo against the dungeon walls to indicate his arrival so there would be no reason to suspect his eavesdropping. When he deemed his distance far enough away, he straightened up, readjusted his Slytherin tie, and strode proudly and swiftly toward Snape's office as if it were second nature.

Draco knocked politely on the doorframe to indicate his approach, before peering around to look in the open door. Arabella was seated in one of the chairs in front of Snape's office. She looked up at his presence, raising his eyebrows in slight displeasure at his tardiness.

"You're late."

"Grabbe and Coyle—I mean, Crabbe and Goyle—"

Arabella giggled.

"No matter, take a seat."

A/N: Reviews make me write faster (HINT HINT). Next chapter will be the meeting with Snape...and more.