Disclaimer: This story is based on the stories and characters created by JK Rowling, and inspired by the poems of T.S. Eliot. I do not own these characters or inspirational ideas, and no money is being made.

Chapter 10. An illegible stone

When I woke the next morning, everything was fuzzy. The sun was streaming in from the window, and I hated it, pulling the covers over my eyes. I stayed under there until the feeling that I was breathing my own air became overwhelming. I lay in the light, angry with a pounding head for a while before I even began to remember what I did last night.

I groaned. I'd gone to the Slytherin common room and participated in an illicit party, gotten drunk, and made up stories about banging Blaise. At least that rumour was so far fetched that few of my acquaintances would believe it.

I was still wearing the t-shirt that Blaise ruined, but somehow I'd removed my pants. I rolled over, and got a whiff of something that wasn't whisky or sweat. It smelled like the forest. The rest of the night came back in a rush. Nott being scary, dancing, walking home with Draco. Draco? What in Merlin. No. I had laughed at his bad jokes, leaned on him while walking back to our dormitory. We sat and talked about Blaise, about our lives. I replayed the events in my head again and again, coming to the only possible conclusion. He fancies me.

No. Nope. I was not going to allow this to happen. I was going to be mean to him, cruel. He is a death eater and he doesn't deserve my kindness, my sympathy. Hell, he doesn't deserve the brain space that is required to make this choice. I rolled out of bed, falling right back onto it when my head throbbed painfully. I stumbled to the bathroom, and when the handle wouldn't move, I pounded on the door.

He opened the door. He opened the door when he was fresh from the shower, covered only by a towel wrapped around his waist, and I wasn't wearing pants. "Morning Frey," he drawled too loudly.

"For fucks sake." I went on in, taking a long drink of water from the tap. In the mirror I could see him looking leering at me. "If you don't stop looking at my arse, I'm going to curse your prick off."

He finished his routine quickly, leaving me alone.

I took the longest shower of my life, and I thought a lot about Draco. Meeting him in the bathroom this morning was horrific and disgusting, as it ought to have been. That wasn't the way I felt about last night. The memories were foggy, but I felt comfortable with him then, I felt safe. I even fancied him.

I didn't fancy him now. The alcohol made me flirty, and he responded as any man-slut. I was just lucky things didn't get seriously out of hand. As I turned the shower off and stepped out feeling fresh, I was resolved to move on, and make him regret he ever fancied me at all.

When I dressed and left my room, tea was laid out as it usually was in the mornings. I'd never seen the house elves bring it, and I don't know if it is usual for the head's to get tea brought to them every day. Perhaps he requested it, and that thought made me sick. Normally I don't partake, opting for coffee in the great hall, but warm smooth tea with milk sounded good at the moment. I poured myself a cup and sat by the hearth.

And it was a long time before I moved a muscle. I sat staring into the fire, thinking slowing, allowing my brain to recover while sipping tea. Blaise entered, hood over his head and hands deep in his robes. Passed right by me, climbing the staircase to Draco's room and knocking. The blond joined him in the common room, the darker boy still not seeing me. Draco gave me a cold look, then a sneer as he plucked something dark from the banister, tossing it to me. I caught it, still not registering what they was.

"I do love those pants, Ollivander."

I groaned, setting down my tea and lying on the sofa. I should just go back to bed and wake up when all of this had gone away. I took my pants off in the common room last night, probably in front of him.

"Frey, what are you doing here?" Blaise put his hand on my back, and I leaned forward with my face in my hands.

"I live here, Merlin help me."

Blaise sat down, taking my pants from me. "You had a good night, at least."

"Can we not talk about it," I snapped.

"Not talking about it won't make it go away. All it does is allow the truth to sneak up on you more easily."

I groaned.

"Nothing happened." Draco said, and I turned on him.

"Piss off, Malfoy. Who asked you."

"Oi!" he shouted. "I'm just trying to defend your honour."

I jumped to my feet. "Who said my honour needs defending. Get off your white horse, death-eater."

"No," Blaise groaned. "Stop shouting. My head hurts."

I fell back into my spot, and Draco poured himself a cup of tea.

"You're a swirling ball of animosity," Draco said, setting into an armchair. "It's no wonder you don't have friends."

I could feel flames pouring out of my eyes, but I said nothing.

"I know what it's like to blackout." Blaise was trying to change the subject. "It can be scary and frustrating to not know what happened. Draco tells me he was with you the whole night, and nothing went on, so you should rest easy."

I felt little comfort at this, but relaxed into my cup of tea all the same.

"So really, you should be thanking me," said Draco, opening his big dumb mouth, "rather than swearing. I've been nothing but kind and I've never had a kind word from you."

My head was pounding, and I was tired of fighting. I just wanted him to go away. I wanted to stop thinking about last night. "I have been nice to you." Blaise scoffed next to me. "Just last night I told you that you look like your father. Isn't that a compliment?"

Draco stood, his expression frozen. "No. Why would I want to resemble a man who gambles with his freedom and the safety of his family."

I smirked. "And yet you do."

He left, slamming the door to his room behind him.

Blaise was looking at me. "You really ought to have been in Slytherin."

It wasn't until much later when my pride subsided that his intention behind that statement became clear. Blaise respected Gryffindors, and he had lost some respect for me.

And I was still mulling over it that evening, pacing around the common room. My hangover had subsided, and while I wasn't as touchy as before, my mood did not improve. I couldn't stop thinking about what I had said to Draco, couldn't stop being frustrated at Blaise for getting upset with me. Draco deserved everything he got, but it still bothered me.

I sat down to finish up the DA list paper, finally casting the complete spell on the bit of parchment. Without knowing the spell Hermione had used, it was the closest I could get. The paper would track everyone who wrote their names on the paper, listening to what they said. If they should say anything about the DA to a Carrow supporter, their tongue would start to burn like they were eating a pepper, rendering the traitor unable to speak. If they tried writing it down, their fingers would catch fire.

Just as I finished and packed it away in my bag, Draco came into the common room through the main entrance. He sat at the round table, grumbling to himself.

Without realising what I was doing, I was sitting at the table with him, scribbling on a sheet of paper. He watched me suspiciously. I slid it over to him.

"Whats this?" He was glaring coldly at me. "Will it curse me when I read it?"

"No. It's the spell to make magic visible."

He read the slip of paper. "Why?"

I sat silently for a moment, watching as his confusion morphed into gratitude. "I shouldn't have treated you that way this morning. I was really in trouble last night with Nott, and I'm grateful for your - uh - assistance." I paused again. "I can't think of any way you could do harm with this spell." He was still looking at me, and the need to justify my actions grew. "And the only reason that I was there last night at all was because I owed Blaise. It's come to my attention that owing a Slytherin leads to bad places, so I don't want you thinking I owe you for last night."

He smirked at me. "You're debt is nullified."

"Okay." I stood and walked away. Behind me I heard him muttering the spell. I turned and walked back. "All the cryptic and not so subtle comments you've been making about being unhappy with You-Know-Who's regime, what's that about?"

He looked up at me, and I expected the cruel smirk to touch his face as I was used to, but I was surprised. His features remained soft. "They told me you were clever, Frey."

Even without resorting to cruel words and meanness, he was intimidating, but I was brave. For a moment I felt like the Gryffindor Blaise wanted me to be. "I just want confirmation. I want to hear you say it."

His eyes left mine and his fingers were trembling on the paper that held my spell. "I can't say it, but it's true. Is that clear enough for Gryffindor's finest?"

I nodded. "Crystal, Draco." I pointed to the paper. "Er, it works best non-verbally, and the wand motion is crucial."

"I remember."

We were quiet for a moment, grateful to have moved on to a safer topic, but more that there was catharsis in the air. We finally understood each other. He didn't deserve my censure, and now we both knew why. He may be a scoundrel and death eater, but some of that was positionally. Something changed in him, and now I saw it clearly.

The fire blazed suddenly behind me and I started. The room was thrown into shadows by the bright green light, blinding me temporarily. A dark figure stepped from the flames.

"Eris?" she said. She threw back her hood to reveal a head of blond hair, cold grey eyes, and thin pointed features so similar to those of the boy sitting next to me. She looked like a lioness, proud but weary.

I stammered, unable to respond to her query. She waited with her eyes fixed on me.

"I wasn't expecting you mother." Draco was standing, walking over to her.

"I had something urgent to discuss with you. There was no time to send an owl." Her gaze was unwavering, and I felt very cold under her scrutiny. "Draco, why don't you introduce me to your friend?"

He looked confused at the request but complied. "This is Frey Ollivander, she is the head girl. Ollivander, this is my mother, Narcissa."

I stuck my hand out to her instinctively, only to retract it when she did not return the courtesy.

"Draco has mentioned you to me. I believe I was expecting someone different." She paused. "Who are your parents?"

I blanched. "Greg Ollivander is my father. He is the nephew of Garrick Ollivander who owns the shop. My mother was a muggle. She died when I was ten."

She smiled sweetly at me. "And a good thing too, I understand."

Before I could react she turned to her son. "I am in a hurry to be back at the Mannor. Is there somewhere private we could talk?"

I slug my bag over my shoulder. "It's alright, Mrs. Malfoy, I will be going." I marched up the spiral staircase to my rooms, feeling their eyes on me. I slammed the door behind me, waited ten seconds, then threaded an extendable ear under the door.

"…was that about?" I heard Draco whispering.

"What do you know about Ms. Ollivander?"

The leather sofa squeaked as they sat. "Nothing. It's like she said, she's a half blood, and I think she's worked in her uncle's shop during the summers. She's peen pretty unremarkable until this year, a bit of a loner. Blaise seems to like her."

There was a pause.

"He thinks that if he has allies on both sides he will be safe no matter what happens."

"And what do you think of her?"

"I don't," and I could hear a tinny in his voice that told me he was smirking. "She is rude and small minded. I suppose she is clever, but Professor Snape made her head girl, so either he thinks she is incompetent or susceptible to dark magic."

Under other circumstances, this would have made me mad enough to come charging down those stairs and curse the both of them into piles of dust. After hearing him speak about his uncertainties, hearing real fear in his voice for the first time, I could tell now that he was faking. Perhaps he didn't know where Narcissa stood on the matter of Lord Voldemort and the war. He was covering for me.

"You know the same options are not available to us, Draco."

There was quiet for a while.

"You should stay away from her."

Draco snorted. "Why? She's not dangerous."

"Trust me, darling. She isn't who you think she is."

At this I jumped back, horrified at what she had just said. I retracted the extendable ear, pacing around my room. Minutes later, there was a loud woosh from the common room, and I opened my door.

Draco was alone.

"She's charming," I said, willing my voice to remain level while my heart pounded in my ears.

Draco just rolled his eyes.

With the charmed paper for the DA stuffed in a pocket, strode to the door. "I'm going out. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Night, Frey."

Somehow, he didn't believe her. He didn't know.