a/n: Sorry for the long wait guys, but here it is, the next chapter!! I promise to update more often now that school is out.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Lesson eight: Guys are always wrong.
Enough said.
If I were a Malfoy, where would I sulk? I pondered as I walked the corridors aimlessly, by all appearances. I looked for him in the dining hall, Quidditch pitch, and the area surrounding, but not too close to, the Slytherin dungeons, but all that earned me was a stubbed toe due to sneaking around corners so unskillfully. How on earth does he do it?
As I turned to maneuver another corner, making sure to watch my feet this time to avoid any further injury, I was surprised to find my face against someone's chest. Judging by the manly smell of the shirt my nose was pressed to, the person was none other than the very same I had spent my entire afternoon looking for.
I looked up at Malfoy, trying to ignore the grimace of confusion on his face as he stared down at his torso at the space where my head had so recently occupied. "I've been looking for you!" I said in exasperation.
"And I you," he said absently, wiping away the imaginary grime my face had inadvertently left on his shirt. "Your friends have some serious explaining to do."
"What happened?" I asked eagerly.
Malfoy's nose crinkled as he recounted his story of that morning. "I was on my way to the courtyard to meet you when out of nowhere, I was accosted by a rabid Weasley brandishing a Beater's club. I'm assuming it was the male one, unless the girl's gotten significantly less attractive since the last time I looked…" He rubbed his temple where one could see a purplish bruise just barely concealed with a simple Glamour charm.
I pushed the comment about Ginny being attractive from my mind in favour of the image of Ron beating Malfoy senseless while screaming the most feminine battle cry imaginable, which is probably quite similar to what had actually occurred.
Malfoy sneered and said haughtily, "The next thing I remember, I was sprawled very unceremoniously on the floor by the infirmary." He eyed me warily and leaned forward in a very accusatory stance. "Did you know anything about this?"
"Beforehand, no," I replied, folding my arms across my chest. "But after the date, I had my suspicions…"
"Wait." Malfoy's eyes widened slightly in what I could only assume was his interpretation of surprise. "You went on a date?" I nodded. "With whom?"
I sighed, more than a bit frustrated by the fact that he didn't seem to be on the same page as me. "With you. Or someone who had taken a Polyjuice Potion to look like you…" I trailed off, leaving Malfoy to reach his own brilliant conclusion.
"Weasel," he said viciously and I didn't correct his use of the rude nickname as I might have once. "I thought someone had gone through my toiletries!" he continued raving. "I had blamed Nott, but now it makes sense… I suppose I'll have to apologize for magicking all the hair from his body next time I see him…" he said almost to himself.
My lips turned down, but I continued on with a nod as if he hadn't spoken. "Exactly. And I'd bet anything Harry wasn't too far, hiding under that bloody invisibility cloak."
Malfoy shook his head and exhaled loudly through his nose. After sweeping his gray eyes around the corridor in frustration, he looked back at me. "So what do we do?"
I scoffed at him. "We get back at them. I don't know about you, but I don't take kindly to being made a fool."
Malfoy smiled in agreement. "You have any ideas?"
I shrugged noncommittally and gave him a small smile. "I might have one."
Malfoy's own grin widened. "Please, do tell…"
"Are you sure this is right?"
Malfoy looked down at me in confusion. "Why are you asking me? This was all your idea."
I laughed uncomfortably, the noise echoing down the empty corridor and brutally reminding me that I have one of the most annoying laughs I have ever had the misfortune of hearing. "Of course. And since when do you care about what's right?"
His lips twitched at the corners like he wanted to smile, then thought better of it. "Never."
"Well that's settled then," I said resolutely, wishing I felt as sure as I sounded. I reached out for Malfoy's hand, feeling the coolness of his fingers as they intertwined around mine.
"Shall we?" he asked, not waiting for me to respond as he pushed open the doors to the Great Hall and led me inside. I remembered just in time to look happy to be with him instead of looking like I might vomit at any given moment.
I had imagined the scene nearly a million times in my head, and each time began the same way; all the students would stare at us as the chatter slowly died down and was replaced by shock and confusion, and Malfoy and I would have to pretend that he didn't even notice.
But not a single head turned in our direction. Even Ron with his two-second attention span and knack for being easily distracted didn't look up from his food. Although I didn't really expect him to, at least at first. For dinner was Shepherd's Pie, Ron's favourite. Not even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could pry the fork from Ron's fingers on Shepard's Pie night.
I let out a breath and relaxed a bit now that our less-grand-than-anticipated grand entrance was over.
"Where shall we sit, love," Malfoy purred in my ear, seemingly trying to keep the conversation quiet, but talking loud enough for the students closest to them to hear, as was the plan. What good would it do to let our show go completely unnoticed?
I shrugged dramatically and leaned into Malfoy's side. "We can sit with your friends today, Draco. I don't mind." I smiled up at him and he returned the gesture with apparent genuine sincerity before pulling me towards the Slytherin table where Blaise Zabini and Crabbe were already making room between them.
On the outside I appeared to be totally at ease as I slid onto the bench next to Crabbe, but my heart was racing. And the press of Malfoy's body against mine wasn't helping matters. There had to be more room on the other side of him than he was letting on. I reminded myself that it was all just part of the game and tried to be a bit less neurotic.
Blaise reached around Malfoy and offered his hand. "Blaise Zabini," he said smoothly. "I know your name."
I didn't remind him of the fact that I already knew his as well. Instead I replied as flippantly as possible, "Well, I have an actual name that has nothing to do with being a 'bitchy know-it-all- Mudblood who's friends with Harry Potter'," arbitrarily quoting from insults I had received in the past.
Blaise withdrew his hand. "So she's clever as well as pretty," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. I saw Malfoy smile with satisfaction out of the corner of my eye.
A cough that sounded very much like a small dog accidentally being trod upon forced me to turn my attention to the persons across the table. Pansy Parkinson and her friend Millicent Bulstrode were staring at me like something unpleasant they had just stepped in and now had the unfortunate task of scraping off their trainers by hand. I nodded at them as politely as I could manage.
"So this is your new plaything, Draco?" Pansy asked with a sneer of distaste. Malfoy glared at her and pulled me closer protectively, for which I was surprisingly grateful. Pansy laughed and Millicent joined in after a hesitant look at her friend. "Just watch out, honey," Pansy said to me sarcastically as she stood from the table. "He's all hands." She wiggled her fingers as she turned and walked away without a second glance, Millicent following behind her in an indignant huff.
"Sometimes, I'd really like to smack that bitch," Blaise said casually as he sipped at his goblet of pumpkin juice. The blasé tone he had taken almost made me want to laugh despite myself.
"I don't want you to be too concerned, but Hermione's sitting with Malfoy."
Harry dropped his fork. It hit his plate and clattered loudly on the porcelain. "What?" he whispered as he turned to Ginny.
The redhead appeared not to have heard him. She stared across the room, straining to see the new couple from around other students' heads. "They look pretty cozy. Did their date go well? I haven't talked to 'Mione in ages…" she mused.
"This isn't good," Harry muttered, following her gaze.
Ginny turned her attention back to him. "Why not? You said yourself it doesn't matter to you whom she chooses to date."
"Right, it doesn't matter to me," Harry began.
"But it matters to Ron…" Ginny finished with a glance to her brother who, thankfully, had his back to the Slytherin table and was too engrossed in a game of pea football with Neville to notice much of anything.
Harry sighed miserably. "And we had worked so hard to keep her and Malfoy apart…" He rested his chin in his hand.
"Like using a Polyjuice Potion to turn Ron into Malfoy and send him on the date instead?"
"Ye- Wait!" Harry stared at her and his eyes went wide. "How'd you know?"
"I needed to borrow a pair of Ron's robes for Quidditch practice and found Malfoy in his trunk. That, and your invisibility cloak was missing. I can put two and two together, Harry." She smiled at him knowingly and Harry blushed in return.
"It was Ron who bungled it," Harry began to explain. "He was supposed to be a complete arse to her on their date so this didn't happen." He gestured to Hermione and Draco, who seemed to be enjoying their dinner and conversing happily with their table mates.
"But he ended up snogging her…"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course! Your first mistake was letting Ron take the potion."
Harry gave her a confused look. "What do you mean?"
"Ron's a guy and he fancies her- and don't say he doesn't, because we all know that's a bloody lie," Ginny interrupted herself after Harry had taken a breath to argue. He let the breath out loudly and let her continue unopposed. "Of course he's going to take any opportunity he has to snog her."
Harry shook his head and said with a groan, "You're right, Ginny."
She beamed. "Of course. I am a girl, after all."
"Really? Hadn't noticed."
With a gasp of feigned shock at Harry's jibe, she slapped him playfully on the shoulder before going back to her meal and trying to hide her blush behind her hands.
