Disclaimer to JK Rowling

Chapter Ten: Peace Out Of Pain

For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave.
The black minute's at end,
And the elements' rage, the fiend voices that rave,
Shall dwindle, shall blend.

Robert Browning from Prospice

Lacie groaned as she stretched at the Gryffindor table after a night of fitful sleep. Hermione wriggled about as she, too, tried to get comfortable on the bench. Her back ached from the restless night that the entirety of Hogwarts had endured the night before. It had started rather excitingly for the Gryffindors as Sirius Black tried to break into their Common Room, the entire school had been relocated to the Great Hall and had slept on the stone floor in sleeping bags. The rest of the school clamoured towards the Gryffindors, who were more than happy to divulge details of the scandal.

From there, the night took an immediate downturn. The floor of the Hogwarts Great Hall left little to be desired, and throughout the night, Hermione could hear upperclassmen whisper cushioning charms to make their sleeping bags more comfortable. Hermione was used to sleeping in sleeping bags from camping trips, but struggled to sleep on the cold, hard ground. It seemed like forever until Hermione managed to fall asleep, but then at three in the morning, most of the school had been woken up by Lacie screaming in her sleep. When Percy Weasley managed to shake her awake, she was escorted by the Head Boy outside of the Great Hall. After that, Hermione struggled to get back to sleep and it seemed that she wasn't the only one.

People glared at Lacie as they passed her on the way to breakfast, and Hermione noted the dark circles under their eyes. It was clear that they blamed her for keeping them awake.

Harry was staring at Lacie, and in her tired irritation she hissed at him, "What?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, aside from being exhausted this morning, I am perfectly fine."

"Clearly not, if you're having nightmares -…"

Lacie stood up, "I have told you enough times, Harry, I do not want to talk about it."

She walked away angrily and abandoned her breakfast as she did so. Harry and Lacie had been arguing since Lacie had gotten back from Hogsmeade on Saturday afternoon, leaving Hermione and Ron feeling awkward on the side-line. Lacie and Harry almost never bickered, as her friend normally reserved her ire for Ron, but Hermione knew better than to get involved. It seemed that whilst the rest of them were at Hogsmeade, Harry had spent his Saturday discussing the possibility of having private lessons with Professor Lupin. Seeing as Lacie would also benefit from it, the Defence professor also extended his invitation for her too.

She wouldn't be alone, Harry had assured, as he wanted to take lessons from Professor Lupin to handle Dementors too. Hermione knew what Harry was trying to do. He was trying to help Lacie overcome her fear, and help her confront her personal demons so that she wasn't so paralysed whenever she heard Riddle's name or a Dementor approached her. Of course, Lacie being Lacie wanted nothing more than to shove it aside and pretend that she wasn't scared.

Stop playing the hero, Harry, Lacie had thrown at him on the way to the Common Room after the Halloween feast the next day after a Sunday of disagreements, I do not need saving.

That had stilled Harry in his step, and he shot Lacie one of his rare, piercing glares that he usually reserved for people he really disliked and caused them to flinch. Lacie, being made of stronger stuff, merely turned her nose up at him and joined the rest of the waiting Gryffindors who couldn't seem to get into the Common Room.

It was unfair of Lacie to accuse Harry of playing the hero, a statement that she had enjoyed throwing around the past two days with such disdain that her brother would be proud. Aside from that comment, and calling Harry the 'Wonder-Hero-Who-Lived', Hermione wondered if her friend had been possessed by her brother. It was only going to be so long before Ron would have to reluctantly restrain Harry from strangling Lacie.

It wasn't fair to Harry, because he was only looking out for his friend, who he had chased after she had run away in a flood of tears after facing her Boggart.

Then again, Hermione understood why her best friend was acting that way. Did Harry really want Lacie to relive one of the worst moments of her life again? Did Harry really want to put her through it all, having seen what had happened himself, for a second time?

However, after the previous night, it seemed as if Lacie was still frightened and had nightmares about the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione wondered if she had nightmares every night, and simply hid it well from the rest of the girls that shared their dormitory.

Hermione stewed over this as she bit into her toast, attempting to fill herself more that morning because she had a long morning. If Harry kept pushing Lacie, he was going to lose her as a friend, that was a given. The unfortunate thing about Harry was, once he had a thought he would keep picking at it until it became a self-fulfilled problem. It was what he did in first-year, and definitely what caused him to be in the Chamber of Secrets the previous year. Still, Harry wasn't playing the hero, as Lacie so unreservedly tossed in Harry's direction. He was just trying to be a good friend, Hermione supposed. Harry stubbornly stared at his breakfast bowl.

"You need to stop pushing."

Harry looked up at Hermione, and said quite pathetically, "I'm just trying to help."

"You know Lace, she hates being protected and made to feel weak, damned Malfoy pride and all."

Harry studied her for a moment before returning to his breakfast. He looked thoughtful as he ate. Hermione watched as Draco ran across the Great Hall towards his sister, and managed to grab her arm. After what seemed to be another hostile exchange between the pair, Lacie ripped her arm out of his grasp – which wasn't hard to do, considering that Draco had one good arm – and stormed off. Draco looked exasperated, and looked over at Hermione before sharply looking away.

Draco was another complication, and Hermione was still furious that he had spoken so rudely towards her at Hogsmeade. She had also refused to reply to the note he sent with that incorrigible rook that he still owned, that requested her presence in the library on Sunday afternoon. She snapped at the rook, who squawked at her unhappily before flapping away and crumbled the note before throwing it into the stove in the middle of her dormitory. She huffed as she lingered on her bed, trying to catch up with her reading for Muggle Studies, often casting a glance at her ashen note.

Initially confused by his behaviour, she had later found out why. Lacie, her cheeks flushed as she took a break from sparring with Harry, miraculously remembered that people thought that Draco had kissed Hermione in Muggle Studies. Hermione suddenly wasn't surprised at his behaviour, and felt frustrated. Instead of simply denying it, Draco had decided to simply humiliate Hermione in his attempt to appear taciturn. As the time drew closer for the first lesson of the day, and she brought a few slices of toast for Lacie to munch on during Arithmancy.

She waved Harry and Ron goodbye, as they had a free period before Charms. It was a short walk to the Arithmancy classroom and Hermione was one of the first few people there. Lacie hadn't arrived yet, and Hermione put the toast on a napkin on the desk next to her. Hermione pulled her work out of her bag, ready for the class to start. She was reading over the notes from the last class when someone jostled in front of her, causing her textbooks to tumble. She looked reproachfully at the person who had knocked her books over, and wasn't surprised to see Draco.

The boy awkwardly bent down to pick up the books, hindered by his arm in the sling. Hermione rolled her eyes as she went to stand up and pick up the books herself, but Draco was shoved away by a tired looking Nott.

Nott swiped the books and parchment up and put them on Hermione's desk.

"Apologies, it seemed that Draco is much too flustered in your presence," Nott said with a mischievous look on his face. "He will try and keep himself under control, pending any other urges to kiss you."

Hermione felt herself redden, and she scowled at Nott, "He better, or else I will hex him six ways from Sunday."

Draco sneered at her before sweeping between the rows of desks. Nott, followed after him, trying to conceal his laugh behind his hand. Lacie sat down next to Hermione, and grabbed the topmost piece of toast before nibbling on it.

"What is the matter with those two? Thank you for the toast, by the way."

Hermione shrugged as an answer to her question, as she straightened out her books. She noticed that there were pieces of parchment in between the mess that weren't there before. She pulled at the sheets, and recognised Draco's handwriting all over them.

"Are you feeling better?" Hermione asked tentatively as she scanned the sheets.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Harry have been at each other's throats since Saturday," Hermione said, frowning at what she was reading. Why did Draco have notes on magical trials? "I know you don't want the help, but maybe -…"

"Do not lecture me, or shall I bring up Ginny?" Lacie shot back and Hermione flinched. Lacie was certainly resorting low blows, knowing that Hermione felt uncomfortable around the youngest Weasley after her encounter with her and a basilisk. Hermione ignored her friend and straightened the parchment in front of her and she saw another, smaller piece of parchment lurking in between the sheets. When Hermione hadn't answered, she heard Lacie mutter, "Exactly."

Hermione ignored her comment and looked at the parchment.

I was out of order, and I apologise.

Hermione scanned through the sheets again, and in his script were pages and pages on research on magical trials involving animals, and past precedence. She looked over at Draco, who was hissing at a bemused Nott and blinked. Had Draco spent the entire weekend writing notes for Hagrid's case? Of course, with his arm, he couldn't technically write but he still had gone to the effort to research all of the material.

Draco looked back at her, and Hermione looked away quickly.

She wasn't going to forgive him so quickly, but he had earned himself a reprieve. For now.

x-x-x-x-x

"Hello."

Lacie looked up from her dinner, and saw Cedric standing next to her, and she tried to ignore the giggles around her. Hermione seemed to find the roast vegetables in front of her particularly interesting whilst biting back a grin. All of the Gryffindor boys, except for Neville, eyed Cedric up, as if he was untrustworthy. Most people seemed to be in awe, which seemed to be a familiar occurrence when it came to Cedric.

It was not simply because he was good-looking. It was because, despite being an unassuming Hufflepuff, he commanded attention in a way that would make Narcissa Malfoy proud. Lacie tried not to scoff at the thought.

"Hi, Cedric."

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead," Lacie replied, moving down the bench a little to give him space. She sighed. "I know why you are here, and I really do not want to talk about it."

The Hufflepuff sighed, before playfully punching Lacie's arm gently. He smiled at her, and Lacie reminded herself that his crooked smile was not that pretty at all.

"Well, just know that if you do want to talk about it, you can grab me. If you do want to take your mind off it, I know a few brutal concertos that I can inflict upon you."

Lacie appreciated the gesture. That was the difference between Cedric and Harry. Harry wanted to force her feelings out. She still felt stupid for breaking down the first time, and she was trying not to cry just thinking about the sleepless night ahead of her. Cedric seemed to offer a solution that distracted her, and she was surprised to realise that she enjoyed doing it.

"Thank you."

Cedric sat there for a moment, and Lacie raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he had not left yet. She also wondered how much longer it would take before Lavender actually combusted into her evening meal. "Er… That's not why I'm here."

"No?" Lacie asked, raising her goblet of water to her lips.

Cedric ran a hand through his messy, blonde hair. "No, I'm afraid I have to cancel our lesson on Saturday. Hufflepuff are substituting for Slytherin this weekend and I have to prepare with the team before the match."

"I see."

"Just promise me that if Hufflepuff win, you won't take it out on me the following week?" The crooked smile was there again, except it was wider and he was showing his teeth. Cheryl actually dropped her fork, further down the table.

"The last time that Gryffindor played Hufflepuff, we caught the Snitch in, what… under five minutes? I think Harry has this one in the bag, sorry," Lacie joked. She looked over at Harry quickly, who looked away quickly but Lacie could not miss the small smirk on his face.

"I hear the new Hufflepuff Seeker is a force to be reckoned with," Cedric replied quietly, and looking down at the table.

"And I thought Hufflepuffs were humble."

"Naïve Gryffindors."

"Just promise me that you will not punish me with those brutal concertos, if it is a Gryffindor victory."

Cedric chuckled before standing and ruffling her hair, causing her to pout at him. She laughed as he made to walk away.

"No promises," he said, before turning and walking towards his friends further along the Hufflepuff table. Lacie rolled her eyes, and beamed into her dinner.

"What was that?"

Lacie looked up at the person who had spoken to her. She was not surprised to see the freckled face of Ronald Weasley to be arranged in an expression of complete and utter smugness, but what was surprising was his interest in the matter.

"What was what?" Lacie asked back.

"You. Diggory. Flirting."

Lacie resisted the urge to gag. "Oh, get a grip, Ronald. I was not flirting with Ced."

"Oh, so he's Ced now is he?" Dean started to tease, "Please, please can I be there when someone tells Malfoy that Cedric Diggory is pursuing his sister?"

Lacie tried to bite back her grin as she suddenly found the fruit bowl in front of her quite fascinating. Ron started chuckling next to Dean, and all the Gryffindors seemed to exchange a look that implied that every single of them wanted to be there when her brother went in his fit of histrionics. She had only heard rumours of how furious he had been during Valentine's Day earlier this year.

"He is not -…"

"I don't see the problem," Parvati interrupted with a sniff, "Are you jealous?"

"Personally, I would rather dance naked in front of Snape than be jealous of Cedric-bloody-Diggory," Ron replied loftily as he ate his food in a manner that was reminiscent of a warthog. He elbowed Harry roughly, causing him to drop his knife. "Promise that you'll beat him on Saturday?"

Harry shrugged, "I'll try, considering I have Lacie's vote of confidence."

Lacie huffed and drained her goblet of water, before indulging in the desserts that were on offer that night. Whilst Harry had certainly learned his lesson in backing off, Lacie knew that it was a matter of time before the lesson about Boggarts would mentioned again.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione was naïve to think that it had ended so simply, and that Harry and Lacie had finally overcome their bitter quarrel. It was only a few moments ago when she looked skyward and thanked whatever deity was up there who sent Cedric Diggory towards Lacie and cheered her up somewhat. He had even managed to illicit a compliment for Harry, too. That in itself was a remarkable feat, seeing as the pair hadn't spoken for over a week, unless it was to antagonise each other. Lacie was too stubborn to explain herself to Harry first, and Harry was adamant that he was only looking out for his friend. They had reached an impasse.

That was until Cedric had coaxed out Lacie's opinion of Harry's Quidditch skills out of her, a remark that had not gone unmissed by their bespectacled friend. Harry was trying hard to look humble as he picked at his chocolate pudding. Hermione ate her food with slight contentment, not knowing that her smugness for the stand-off to be over had come too soon.

As Lacie was selecting several pieces of fruit, Hermione watched as Oliver Wood sat down next to her, with an accusatory expression on his face.

"What did Diggory want with you?"

Lacie looked up from her watermelon, that she was neatly slicing into thin pieces before she would eat them. Hermione watched Lacie consider her words as she pursed her lips before saying, "I believe it is none of your business, Wood."

"Did he ask you about Harry?"

"I beg your pardon?"

The hair on the back of Hermione's neck stood up as Lacie's hiss reverberated through the air, as Wood was looking at her best friend with a stern look on his face. Hermione thought she imagined seeing Seamus wince, and there was a subconscious decision for people to inch away from the impending explosion.

"If you've been giving him information - …"

"Information?" Lacie asked, "Why would I be giving Cedric information?"

"Well, what else would Diggory be wanting with you? He knows you're one of Harry's friends, it's more than convenient for him to ask about Harry and the Gryffindor Quidditch practices."

Lacie's mouth dropped open, and she shot a glare across at Harry. "Is this why you keep asking me questions about Cedric?"

Hermione resisted the urge to groan into her dinner plate.

They had only just made up. Sort of.

When Harry's faced reddened and he didn't answer, Lacie's glare deepened. "I thought you were only asking me because of some idiotic notion that my brother put in your head, but as it turns out, you made it all up."

"I didn't -…"

Lacie ignored Harry's protests and turned back to Wood, "As for Cedric, he is my piano tutor and he was telling me that he was cancelling our lesson because of your stupid Quidditch game."

Wood looked furious at his favourite pastime being called even something as mild as 'stupid'. Lacie carried on, "If you want information I have some, like all the Hufflepuffs, Cedric plays fair. He has never asked me a single question about Harry or your team. It turns out the real snakes of this school are in Gryffindor."

With that, she stood up, leaving her fruit untouched and walked away. Hermione turned and watched as she pulled Cedric away from the Hufflepuff table, before turning and glowering back at Wood. Cedric looked at them with furrowed brows and a thoroughly confused expression. Hermione knew that some Hufflepuffs sitting at the next table had heard everything that Lacie had said, and they were also shooting Wood dirty looks as well.

Hermione slammed her spoon onto the table and looked across at Harry, who looked suitably guilty.

"Are you mental?"

x-x-x-x-x

Harry woke up on Friday morning in a particularly bad mood. The howling winds had done nothing to help him sleep nor did his persistent nightmare. Lacie was now making him miserable during his sleep as well as his daily life. Ever since that Wednesday night, Lacie had made snippy remarks across at Harry, to the point where Harry had made it a personal mission to sit as far away from her in the classes they shared and mealtimes. When Snape had scathingly criticised his potion, Lacie had snickered so uncaringly that even confused her brother. Of course, karma was on Harry's side as Snape noted that he was not an entertainer, and removed a point or two for unwarranted noise-making.

Even as Wood had stopped him before his Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson and started talking to him about yet another thing about Diggory, Harry's mind wandered to the nightmare where Lacie had cornered him into a shouting match in their Common Room.

"If I recall correctly, Cedric has never tried to get me killed."

"Diggory is quite big as well – so, just try and hold onto your broom, I think the wind is only going to get worse…"

"You talk about trying to be my friend, Riddle wanted you, and he used me to get to you."

"…but don't be fooled by his size because he's also quite fast…"

"It is all your fault, Harry! You are the reason why I have nightmares!"

Harry froze at the last sentence, and Wood looked slightly worried for a moment. Harry blinked, and realised that the corridors were completely empty and Harry checked his watch. He was almost ten minutes late for his next lesson and turned around, leaving Wood shouting at him down the corridor. Harry did not turn around, or even listen to what Wood was saying.

Harry knew he imagined that last sentence, because Lacie would never say it to Harry - in his subconscious or not. As much as she probably did blame him for her immobilising fear, she would never say the words out loud, especially in a bustling Common Room where people were hanging onto every word of Lacie's tirade.

That was all Harry.

Harry did blame himself. How could he not? He should have been more careful, he had gotten himself mindlessly disarmed by Lockhart and Lacie had had to save his bony arse. She had then blindly followed him into the Chamber of Secrets, and had been so willing to help him.

She may have nightmares about Riddle, but Harry's nightmares were about his fear of losing her. He remembered the way that she assured him that she could take it. She could take the mindless torture from Riddle, and as he squeezed her throat almost shut, she was adamant in her assurance. She could take it. She could take the being animated against her will, the burning, the almost drowning and all Harry did was fling about a sword and kill a snake. She was the one that screamed in her sleep due to her valiant efforts in the Chamber and yet, Harry was Dumbledore's Golden Boy. The hero.

Harry's blood rose and stomach dropped every time Lacie hurled that word at him. He was angry that she thought that he was trying to be a hero, when all that he wanted to do was protect her, the way he should have done in the Chamber. He was angry that it was what she viewed him as. A hero. The Wonder-Hero-Who-Lived. Harry was no more a hero than Lockhart. Yet, he knew that he only felt that way because he had indeterminably failed her. He wasn't a hero, if he was a hero, he wouldn't have recklessly thrown himself into a duel with a basilisk without thinking clearly about how it would end. He wouldn't have let her be harmed. Riddle would have not burned a single hair on her head. If he was a true hero, he probably wouldn't be hearing her screams every time a Dementor approached.

That's what he knew it had to be. When he had heard screaming, and found out that Lacie had heard the same and it was her own screaming from the torture inflicted by Riddle, Harry knew that it was what he could hear when the Dementors approached. Yet, through all of that, he fainted whilst Lacie managed to stay relatively conscious. Some hero. It was all his fault that he could hear the screaming, because he hadn't done enough to protect her. Of course she was going to be angry when he tried to protect her now, it was too little, too late.

Harry swung open the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom with his apology waiting in his throat for Professor Lupin, who he knew would be sympathetic, only to reveal Snape. The Potions Master regarded him with those dark eyes of his, and his unmistakeable sneer before removing Housepoints from Harry. Harry bit his tongue as the rest of the class sighed unhappily, Lacie being the only person who was staring straight ahead and ignoring him. Ron had unfortunately sat next to Hermione, leaving a spare seat next to Lacie and Harry took it before Snape could take a further ten points from Gryffindor for continuing to disrupt his class. Lacie visibly bristled as he sat down but Harry ignored her.

"What page are we on?" Harry asked, as he pulled his textbook out of his bag. Lacie ignored him, and purposefully moved her textbook away from him so that he couldn't even see what page they were on. Harry's temper flared. He knew that he was still in her bad books, but he wasn't aware that she would be so petty.

Then again, considering she was a Malfoy and her brother was equally so, he wasn't at all surprised.

The thought of Malfoy caused his temper to flare once again. Of course, Malfoy was the root of this current argument. If he hadn't pulled Harry aside and whispered that there was a chance that Gryffindor would be playing Hufflepuff, Harry's curiosity would not have veered in Diggory's direction. It seemed that Harry had underestimated how much Lacie currently trusted her brother. Despite his outburst last year about Hermione, it seemed that Lacie had warmed up to her brother considerably over the summer.

Even Hermione seemed tolerant of the boy, Harry often catching her whispering to him with a smile on her face in Potions. Then there was that bet, and although amusing, Harry wondered how close the pair had become over the summer for them to make a jovial bet as if they were bosom buddies.

"Mister Potter, is there still something wrong?"

Harry looked up to see the smug face of his Professor, and again, the rest of the class were peering at him with the exception of Lacie.

"I-I… don't know what page on we're on, Professor."

"Did you not think to ask?"

"I did," Harry replied, looking emphatically at Lacie, who merely sniffed.

"Miss Malfoy?"

Lacie glanced at their professor and said quite simply in a voice that was quite controlled and toneless, "I did not hear anything, Professor."

"Mister Potter - …"

"Why are you lying?" Harry snapped at Lacie, "I asked you what page we're on, and I know you heard what I said because you moved your book so I couldn't even see."

"I moved my book because I was not comfortable with where it was," Lacie replied coolly, "Not because I was trying to stop you from seeing what page we're on."

"You -…"

Before Harry could say anything, Snape had swept in front of Lacie and him and glared at them.

"Five points from Gryffindor," the professor drawled, "each. If I had wanted a running commentary, I would have asked for one. Mister Potter, please turn to page three hundred and ninety-four."

Harry ripped his book open, and flicked to the last chapter. Harry knew that they weren't this far in the syllabus yet, but didn't complain. Gryffindor were already twenty points down in one lesson, and Harry had no desire to lose even more.

"Now that Mister Potter and Miss Malfoy have stopped disrupting the class, can anyone tell me how to identify a werewolf?" Snape asked idly and it was no surprise that Hermione and Lacie's hand shot up into the air. Lacie's hand brushed up against Harry, and painfully scratched the side of his head. His glasses went flying, and Harry yelped as he jumped away from her, almost falling off his chair. When he righted himself, Harry glowered at Lacie, even if she was just a blur.

"Miss Malfoy!"

"I was just eager to answer the question, Professor, how was I to know that he would be sitting so close?" Harry heard Lacie said innocently, as Harry blindly felt around his desk for his glasses. Harry thought he heard Snape sigh.

"Seeing as you and Mister Potter cannot sit together civilly, move your things, and sit at the front of the class."

Harry heard Lacie slam her books shut, and the wood chair scraped noisily against the stone floor as she angrily stood up. She walked around Hermione and Ron, most likely to avoid walking around Harry. Harry was glad, as Lacie was short of shoving him before she became an incarnation of her brother.

"Seeing as you are so keen to interrupt my class, Mister Potter, can you tell me how to identify a werewolf?"

"I don't know, preferably with my glasses on?"

Harry's temper was so short that he instinctively answered before properly thinking about it, and he wanted to eat his words as soon as he had said it. The class around him inhaled so sharply, and Harry realised that he was holding his breath as he awaited Snape's response. He was just glad that no one had given his glasses back, so he couldn't see what Snape's face was like. He was also glad not to see the murderous expression upon Hermione's face for disrespecting a teacher like that.

"Professor Lupin may tolerate your smart mouth, Potter, but that certainly will not do with me. Seeing as you all have to constantly rely on Miss Granger and Miss Malfoy's efforts in this class, you will all write me two rolls of parchment on identifying werewolves and how best to defend yourself against one for Monday morning."

The class groaned, and Harry was still glad that he couldn't see the now murderous expressions on his classmates faces as well.

"But Professor, why should the rest of us be punished because Potter opened his stupid, fat mouth?" Harry heard Lacie complain.

"Detention, Miss Malfoy. You have disrupted my class several times now, and I will not have wilful disobedience," Harry heard Snape say, "And if I ever hear you criticise my classes, again, regardless of who your mother is, you will be very sorry. Is that clear?"

Lacie didn't make a sound, so Harry assumed that she had nodded or something.

"Seeing as you cannot have an interactive lesson, you will sit and make notes on the chapter regarding werewolves," Snape drawled, "and the next person to make so much as a sound will join Miss Malfoy on her detention."

Harry's hand fumbled around his desk again, in vain hope that he would find his glasses. He heard something slam on his desk, and reached for it. When he had put his glasses back on again, he could see an imperceptible mask on Snape's face.

"I would take more care, Potter, they are not the only thing that can simply… fall off," he said, the words were so quiet and low that Harry was sure that no one else had heard him. Harry looked up at the Professor, and he had a small smile, "A Quidditch injury will not make you exempt from your homework."

Harry bit his tongue, remembering Snape's threat of the next person speaking, and looked furiously at his textbook before he hastily started making notes. He was sure that the rest of the class were making a start on their lengthy piece of homework. Harry heard Snape make his way to the front of the class and started rifling through the pieces of parchment sitting atop Lupin's desk.

The rest of the hour passed slowly, and Harry could feel his attention wane and his eyelids droop as he read and wrote the same sentence three times. His classmates also looked bored as well, their previous lessons had been so exciting in comparison. Snape was revelling in their misery, occasionally denouncing Lupin's method of teaching aloud to the class as if provoking the hushed Gryffindors to speaking so he could further punish them.

Ten minutes before the lesson was due to end, he spoke quietly to Lacie, but as the classroom was so quiet already, everyone could hear what he was saying.

"Your detention will be with Madam Pomfrey on Saturday morning, you will be assisting her as she prepares for the influx of students that may visit her after the Quidditch match."

Harry watched as Lacie nodded, at least she had the decency to look slightly apologetic.

"It means you will be missing the match too."

Lacie absorbed that for a moment, before purposefully turning and facing Harry. Her grey eyes locked onto his green ones and she pulled up one side of her mouth into a haughty smile.

"Gladly."

x-x-x-x-x

Draco huddled underneath the thin covers that was flapping incessantly in the howling wind. Nott shivered next to him, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself under his thick robe.

As much as Draco paraded around the school that he in a complete state of devastation that he could not partake in the day's Quidditch match, he was in two minds about the matter. He was glad that he was exempt from the battering of the rain and being thrown around in the violent winds. He had severely underestimated the two teams that were currently playing on the pitch, as no one had flown off their broomsticks yet. Even Potter seemed to be hanging on, even if he was completely hopeless in the weather. However, Draco was annoyed that Flint had made the decision to substitute Slytherin's game for later in the year. Potter was essentially blind without his glasses, and Draco could tell from the way he was wiping his round glasses that his visibility had been severely compromised. In these conditions, Draco would have most definitely outmanoeuvred Potter. Draco's arm was better, but the barrage of potions and ointments that he applied to his arm only seemed to worsen it. Furthermore, Flint wanted to make absolutely sure that Slytherin would playing in favourable conditions.

The howling wind and Potter's lack of ability to even see seemed to be quite favourable in Draco's opinion, and he wondered how Flint had even been Sorted into Slytherin, as he seemed to lack quite the finesse of being cunning.

However, as much as Draco thought about it, Flint was the captain and he was not. He only hoped that it was howling with rain when the time came that he would be playing Potter.

Diggory was an interesting Seeker, whilst he did not seem to have the innate ability that Potter had – as Draco deigned to admit – he seemed to sit in the air, where the weather permitted and almost meditate for the location of the Snitch. It seemed to work, until his concentration was broken by the violent winds or if the Snitch was blown off course as he chased it. Potter was having no luck, and did not seem to have as many near-misses as Diggory. Draco tracked Diggory, and even though it was going to be spring before Slytherin had to play Hufflepuff, it was useful to see their playing style. Draco could even see Flint taking mental notes.

Draco winced as the Gryffindor team scored yet another goal, and realised that there was a benefit from the howling wind and rain. He could not hear Jordan, the most biased commentator that Hogwarts had to offer, gloat to the rest of the school. The Gryffindor team seemed determined and more polished this year, and it was no secret that Wood was putting his team through their paces. It was also no secret that Wood wanted the Quidditch cup, a relic of his years as a Quidditch captain. Flint wanted the same thing, even if he was resitting the year owing to his dismal NEWT scores. Draco wondered how Flint managed to bribe his captaincy, despite his poor academic results.

There was a crack, and lightning blazed through the pitch and Draco clamped his eyes shut, the imprint of the opposite side of the pitch burning into his retina. He opened his eyes as a long drawn-out whistle extended across the grounds. Draco found himself smirking, wondering if Diggory had managed to secure a Hufflepuff victory. He looked at his Slytherin housemates, who seemed to be wondering the same thing. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams flew to opposite ends of the pitch and huddled underneath large umbrellas.

"I suppose it is over," Draco muttered, standing up and checking his watch. It had been a miserable hour, and as much as Draco appreciated the sport, the weather had definitely tested his tolerance.

"No, look," Greg said, pointing at the Gryffindor side, where a figure had appeared onto the pitch and the Gryffindor team were soon in the air again. The Hufflepuff team also resumed into the air and Madam Hooch blew her whistle again.

Draco sighed as he sat down again, wishing that he had at least worn gloves. It was fine for his right hand that was firmly in his pocket, but his left arm was still in its sling. Keeping up the façade of an injury did not seem to have its perks.

"Looks like Potter's visibility problems have miraculously disappeared," Theo said, nudging Draco and pointing at the scarlet dot in the sky. Draco tracked the Gryffindor Seeker for few minutes and noticed that his rival was flying as seamlessly as he could given the conditions. He did not wipe his glasses for the duration of the time Draco was watching him.

"It did not miraculously disappear, Theodore," Blaise said, his words were in a long drawn-out drawl and the usage of Theo's full name had not gone unmissed as Theo glowered at their friend, "Personally, I am surprised you did not notice Granger on the pitch, or you, Draco."

"Why would anyone notice that know-it-all mutt on the pitch in this weather?" Draco asked with a sneer.

"That know-it-all mutt just gave Potter a fighting chance to catch the Snitch," Blaise replied dryly. "If Hufflepuff lose by two hundred points, it would only make it harder for you."

"Since when were you so interested in Quidditch?" Theo asked, still snippy from being called Theodore. Draco wanted to roll his eyes at Theo for continuing his petulant act, but stopped himself, knowing that Theo would call him a hypocrite.

"Since when were you so interested in the Mudblood?" Vince asked, on the other side of Blaise, tearing his eyes off the game for a moment.

"First of all, I am only interested in Quidditch because if Slytherin loses the Cup to Gryffindor, of all houses, this one here would never stop talking about it," Blaise said, gesturing at Draco. Draco sniffed at him, before looking away at the game.

"Second of all, it would be smart to keep an eye on her. She is rather unpredictable."

Draco snorted at Blaise, "Granger is the most predictable person that I know, also, I thought you hated her."

Blaise turned to Draco and raised an eyebrow, "No, you hate her. I find her interesting."

"You find her interesting because you know it would annoy Draco if she was your friend," Theo said, looking at Blaise as if he was restraining himself from rolling his eyes.

"Or maybe because I want to look at her Arithmancy notes," Blaise replied airily. "Granger would be a useful study partner."

It was at that moment when Blaise looked at Draco pointedly.

How does he know?

Shrugging it off, Draco simply snorted and asked, "How would I know?"

"You could ask Draco how his notes," Greg suggested.

"Greg, why would I find Draco's notes useful? He spends most of the time in Arithmancy pining over Granger," Blaise replied shortly, and a smile crept up his face.

Draco's face reddened and Theo looked at him.

"He does but…," Theo mused, "How do you remember what Professor Vector says in class to write down?"

"I already told you, I am just smarter than all of you put together," Draco retorted, hoping that Diggory would catch that Merlin-be-damned Snitch sooner rather than later. The Slytherin boys all snorted, with Greg giving Draco a hearty slap on the back. Draco grimaced at the mammoth boy, but Theo did not seem convinced.

His friend opened his mouth to ask something, but was interrupted by a piercing scream from Daphne Greengrass. Screams echoed around the entire pitch, as Draco looked in the direction that the girl was pointing. A scarlet figure was falling, and tumbling through the darkened sky. The figure was being chased by black, hooded figures who were floating above the Quidditch pitch, causing chaos in the minds of the spectators. The crowd suddenly were subdued as the air grew colder and Draco held his robe closer to his body. Theo was covering his ears. Blaise was shivering. No one but Draco seemed to notice that Madam Hooch's whistle had sounded, signalling the end of the game.

As the figure neared the ground, Draco realised that it was Potter, and he had passed out. It was no doubt a side effect of the Dementors, and the crowd stood up and watched to see if Potter was going to hit the ground with an all-mighty smack, but it never came. Someone had cast a spell so that his descent had slowed down considerably, and he landed on the ground gently, albeit still unconscious. Draco's eyes darted towards the sky, the sounds of his irate father in the back of his mind and noticed silvery figures darting out of the Professors' box, and the Dementors were flying away as if scared of the silvery mists in the sky.

"Is he dead?" Draco heard someone ask, and Blaise patted the girl on the head. The girl was considerably shorter than the rest of them, despite being in their year. She was stood on her tiptoes, but as Vince had moved forward to observe what was occurring on the pitch as all fourteen players had grounded, it was clear that she could not see what was going on.

"Do not be dramatic, Cornelia, as if Dumbledore would let his golden boy die," Blaise said dryly. Draco snorted as the girl looked at Blaise reproachfully, as if that was explanation enough for Potter's current state.

"The game has ended. Can all students please return to the castle as quickly as they can!" A voice boomed around the grounds, and everyone started to move towards the exits. Draco glanced across at the Quidditch pitch, where there was a well-formed scarlet crowd around where Potter had landed. Behind him, Greg was shoving the crowd forward, and Draco stumbled with a hiss. There was one upside to all of this chaos. If Potter had fallen off his broom, it meant Hufflepuff had won.

A/N: Apologies for being so late! Obviously with Christmas I'm working double shifts, on top of other stuff I already do, this affects how much/quick I can edit. Also I rewrote parts of this chapter because I was generally not happy with some of it but I think I ironed it out [at last].

I think I have a lot more to write but its already 1am and I think it's time for bed.

Happy reading,

CSxo.