"I say we burn it." Draco had expected Astoria's bluntness, but of all the ideas she could've suggested with regards to the journal, burning it was the last thing he thought she would've suggested.

Before he could voice his opinion, Azula's snort cut him off. As he turned to face the Firinian, he wasn't surprised to see a mix of amusement and annoyance on her face. It appeared that the idea was just as unappealing to her as it was to him.

"Burn it?" Azula mimicked, "Why didn't I think of that?"

Astoria crossed her arms.

"Did you?"

Azula gritted her teeth, but otherwise said nothing.

"I thought so." Astoria grinned, "Now that that's out of the way, burn it, Zula."

Draco moved to comment on the nickname, but the deadly glare Azula gave him in return silenced him before he could even utter a sound. In hindsight, burning a journal – or anything – for that matter in the middle of an abandoned classroom would be dangerous. The scent of the burning book would easily attract the attention of any passerby, and answering questions about their activities would be a pain.

"And risk being caught?" Azula was quick to voice her sentiments, ones that Draco agreed with, "No thank you. I'd rather not have Snape write to my father again. He almost killed me the last time, and I'd rather not have a repeat of that incident."

There was something in Azula's tone that struck Draco as odd. Had anyone else said the words she had just said, there would be some kind of joking tone attributed to it. Something to let others know that she wasn't really serious about her father almost murdering her. With Azula's words, however, she seemed completely serious. Based on the first time he had met Fire Lord Ozai, Draco wouldn't put it past the Firinian leader to attempt to maim his only reasonable child.

Not that he'd ever mention that thought to Azula, of course. They'd just gotten back on speaking terms, and he didn't want them to have another pointless argument over something that technically wasn't any of his business.

Astoria, on the other hand, looked as if she were about to call Azula out on her last words – if the troubled knit of her brows was anything to go by – so Draco decided to intervene.

"Where would we go then?" He prompted, "It's not like we have some secret room to go to."

At his words, Azula smirked, and pulled a piece of folded parchment from one of the pockets in her robes. Draco glanced at it, and he didn't see what was so special about it. It was a blank piece of parchment for all he knew. Astoria took the paper from Azula, flipping it over in several angles before a frown came to her face.

"The Marauder's Map?" Astoria questioned, not bothering to hide her shocked and impressed countenance, "How'd you swipe this?"

Draco blinked in confusion. For the millionth time in his life, he was out of the loop with his two friends. It seemed like the two of them were always a step ahead of him, waiting until they were secure enough in their knowledge before letting him into the fold.

"Zuzu is an idiot." Azula shrugged, "If he's even noticed it's gone by now, it's too late for him."

"Wait a moment. Why do you know what this is?" Draco was accusatory, pointing a finger at Astoria, who shrugged with a sheepish grin on her face. She batted her eyelashes at him in an effort to reduce his irritation, but as he only stared at her stonily, she sighed.

"Look." Astoria said, "All you need to understand is that I'm a very charismatic person, and people can rarely resist me."

Draco scrutinized her for a moment longer before rolling his eyes. He'd get the truth out of her eventually. He always did, so he decided that it didn't make sense to dwell on the topic.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." Astoria pointed her wand at the parchment.

Draco refrained from snorting. He didn't need Astoria to reaffirm what he already knew about her.

When was she ever up to any good?

He was just about to voice that thought when, out of nowhere, words started appearing on it. The first thing he noticed was the words "Marauder's Map" scrawled along the top of the parchment, soon followed by what appeared to be a full map of Hogwarts. Azula, smirking at Draco's awe, dragged her finger along the map, passing by several moving figures – Seamus Finnigan, Terry Boot, and Professor Sprout to name a few – before stopping at a spot on the seventh floor.

"You're pointing to a literal wall, Azula." Draco deadpanned.

Azula shook her head, clasping her hands together.

"Draco," she murmured, "I present to you the Room of Requirement."

The Room of Requirement was a haven of sorts for Azula, one which she didn't take lightly. It was the only place in all of Hogwarts that she felt like she could have some sense of privacy. In the Slytherin common room, there were all sorts of distractions – from Marcus Flint trying to strike a conversation with Draco to Pansy Parkinson desperately clinging to the blond's side. Granted, those occurrences were amusing to an extent, but there were times when she just wanted some peace and quiet.

The Room of Requirement provided that for her.

"What is this place?" Azula heard Astoria breathe out, her tone awestruck as she walked around the spacious room.

"As I just told the both of you, this is the Room of Requirement." Azula snapped her fingers in front of the younger Slytherin's face, "Pay attention."

Astoria took no offense to the words, but then again, Azula hadn't expected her to. Astoria Greengrass was the most laid-back person Azula had ever met, even surpassing Ty Lee's patience. No matter how many times Azula snapped at her, the hazel-eyed Slytherin took it in stride, verbally fighting back with sharp words of her own. If she were being honest, she respected her for it.

"How did you even get that map off of scar face?" Draco asked her, and Azula found great amusement in his demeaning nickname for her worthless brother. It was nice to have people in her life who saw Zuko as the weakling that he was instead of immediately flocking to his side, coddling him like an injured turtle duck, "I sincerely doubt the two of you have the kind of relationship where you can just borrow his things."

Azula smiled sweetly, though her eyes burned with malicious pleasure.

"All I had to do was talk to him about honor and he was as good as distracted." Azula rolled her eyes, "Pathetic."

She glanced over to the fireplace at the far side of the room. It currently blazed orange, but with a slight lift of her hands, the flames flickered blue. She nodded to herself in satisfaction.

"So you say I should burn the book?" Azula redirected her attention to Astoria, who nodded, "Very well."

She got off of the couch and walked over to the fireplace, holding the journal tightly in front of her. For a moment, she hesitated. She knew on a logical level that getting rid of the journal would only be to her benefit, but there was a little voice in her mind telling her not to carry on with it.

The voice wasn't her own, and she supposed that was the deciding factor for her.

Tossing the book into the fire, she watched as the journal merely sat there, flames lapping everywhere else but the actual journal. She shrugged, walking away with the impression that the journal would eventually be destroyed. As she walked towards her companions, she was taken aback by the looks of horror on their faces. Draco raised a shaking finger to point at something behind her, but it was Astoria who spoke.

"A-Azula." Her voice was shaky as she too pointed behind her. Her words failed her and she took a step back.

Turning around, the first thing Azula noticed was a plume of black smoke rising from the fireplace, the journal in midair throughout the entire ordeal. The mist came towards her, slowly at first but steadily advancing. Raising her wand, she cast the first spell she could think of.

"Protego." She cried.

She was certain that her form was perfect, and yet, the mist went straight through her protective barrier, careening straight into her chest. The force sent her back a few feet until she ended up on her knees, clutching her chest. There was a burning sensation, though she couldn't locate where the phantom feeling was coming from. A voice made itself known in her ears, more of a reptile-like hiss than something humanoid.

I can speak to snakes.

Closing her eyes tightly, she gasped for breath. She found it harder and harder to breathe until suddenly, her airways were clear once more. She could feel arms wrapped protectively around her, and instinctively, she moved closer. She felt cold, and the first thing she did was make sure her firebending was still intact.

At the flame that rose obediently in her hand, she knew she had nothing to worry about in that department.

"Are you alright?" Astoria's voice came from above her, and Azula realized that it was the younger Slytherin who was holding her.

Opening her eyes fully, Azula took a deep breath, stretching her shoulders as best she could while still in Astoria's embrace. From a few feet away, she could see Draco gingerly holding what should've been a burnt journal. Instead, the darned thing was still in perfect condition. Not even its pages had been blackened.

"I'm fine." Azula replied, her tone hoarse as she moved out of Astoria's arms, "What's wrong, Draco?"

The blond Slytherin was frowning as he looked through the pages of the journal. Azula knew she should've felt indignant at the possibility of him finding personal conversations between her and the journal, but she got the distinct feeling that the possibility had just been made impossible.

"There's…nothing in here." Draco couldn't have looked more shocked if he tried, "I thought you said you wrote in here."

"I did." Azula insisted as she snatched the journal from Draco's hands, ignoring its heat.

She flipped through the pages swiftly, stunned to see that the pages once filled with lengthy conversations were now completely empty. Stuff like this didn't happen in real life. This was absolutely ridiculous, and there had to be an explanation for it. The more she searched the pages, the more she felt as if some unseen force was laughing at her, and in her frustration, she threw the journal into the fireplace across the room with all the accuracy of a quidditch chaser. Mockingly, the journal rose from the flames, moving until it rested at her feet once more.

"I can't believe this." Azula muttered. Things like this were supposed to Zuko, not her.

"You don't think that the mist…" Astoria hesitated with her words until Azula glared at her to continue, "actually possessed you, but for real this time?"

"Don't be stupid, Astoria." Azula shook her head. The idea of her being possessed sounded like something out of the horror stories Lu Ten used to tell her before bed. Possession couldn't happen in real life, magic or not.

She refused to acknowledge the possibility.

Draco, on the other hand, remained silent, prompting Azula to look at him. He looked contemplative, as if he were actually considering the possibility of what Astoria had said. She pushed at one of his shoulders.

"What do you think, Draco?" Azula asked him.

"I think," Draco began quietly, "that we ought to change the subject."

Astoria looked like she wanted to object, but a look from Draco silenced her. The longtime friends looked to be having a silent conversation, and Azula didn't like to feel left out. She cleared her throat loudly – obnoxiously, to be honest – but it did the trick.

"Potter and his friends are up to something with polyjuice potion." Draco said firmly, and just like that, all mentions of the journal and Azula's "possession" were put to rest, "I'm sure of it."

It wouldn't surprise Azula if the Golden Trio was, in fact, involved in some plot having to do with polyjuice potion. They always seemed to be getting themselves involved in some sort of trouble at Hogwarts.

"The question, then, if how we confirm this." Azula tapped her chin in thought.

She could always exploit Harry's offer of friendship. The Gryffindor "chosen one" would divulge his plans in little or no time, Azula was certain of it. The only flaw with that plan was that she'd have to spend time around the likes of Ronald Weasley. She didn't hate the boy, per se – her hatred was reserved for her uncle, brother, and mother, after all – but she knew his presence would get on her nerves very soon.

"I'll find out." Astoria murmured casually, taking a quick glance at the Marauder's Map before taking it out of Azula's lap. Her eyes had fixed on a point on the second floor, and as Azula stared at it longer, she realized that it was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom she was staring at, "They're in Myrtle's bathroom. I'll get the information now."

Draco laughed outright at Astoria's words, and the younger Slytherin slapped him in the back of his head. Her small act of violence brought a delighted smile to Azula's face and the blond winced, rubbing the back of his head tenderly.

"How do you plan on doing that?" Draco asked her, eyes narrowed, "You're a Slytherin, in case you've forgotten."

Astoria smirked, and Azula thought that this was the first time since she'd met the younger girl that she seemed positively sinful.

She liked it.

"I'm a Slytherin, Draco." Astoria's lips twitched – whether in amusement of something else, Azula didn't know, "That's all the explanation you need."

Astoria walked a few steps away before stopping, looking nonchalantly over her shoulder at Azula and Draco.

"And besides," Astoria grinned, "everyone loves me."

Getting to the second floor from the seventh was no issue for Astoria Greengrass. She'd been outside of the common room many times after curfew, and as a result, was certain that she knew 75% of Hogwarts like she knew the back of her hand. With the Marauder's Map, her journey was made even simpler.

The only problem she faced in getting to the second floor was red-haired with a prefect badge.

"What are you doing here?" Percy Weasley asked her stiffly, arms crossed over his chest in a manner that made him seem more constipated than authoritative.

Astoria raised an eyebrow at him, crossing her arms in return and discreetly placing the map in the inside of her robes. If Percy thought he could intimidate her with his prefect badge, he had another thing coming.

"I thought it was obvious." She answered him innocently, cocking her head to the side for added effect.

If possible, the constipated look on Percy's face worsened, and the sixth-year Gryffindor huffed, puffing his chest out. Astoria remained unfazed.

"As prefect," Percy began stuffily, and it took all of Astoria's self-control to stop herself from laughing at his tone of voice, "it is my duty to know the intentions of all students roaming the halls. Do you have a hall pass?"

"It's my free period right now, Mr. Prefect." Astoria mockingly saluted him, "Do you want me to go all the way to Snape to get him to write a pass for me?"

Percy, ignoring her tone, glared at her.

"What business do you have here?" He frowned.

Astoria sighed.

"If you must know, I was trying to go to the bathroom before you so rudely interrupted me." Astoria shrugged, "But since you trust me so little, why don't you follow me inside? You can watch as I pull down my skirt and take a pi –"

Percy didn't let her finish, raising his hand to silence her. His cheeks reddened with a mixture of anger and embarrassment, and Astoria knew she had gotten to him.

"Five points from Slytherin for your vulgarity!" Percy forced out, his tone slightly shrill as he hurried off.

Once she was sure he had left, she grinned to herself. Boys were too easy. With a bit of a skip in her step, she walked into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"How're you doing today, Myrtle?" A loud voice brought Harry Potter's attention away from the polyjuice potion Hermione was working on.

Hazel-eyes. Wavy black hair. A confident grin. Harry found himself meeting the animated gaze of Astoria Greengrass. He still didn't know much about her, despite spending his first-year Christmas with her, and it wasn't as if he talked to her older sister, Daphne. To him, the younger Greengrass sibling was an enigma, a puzzle he just couldn't figure out.

At hearing her voice, Myrtle let out a loud wail, submerging herself in one of the nearby toilets with a splash, getting water everywhere. Luckily, Hermione had the presence of mind to move the cauldron away.

"Guess she was busy." Astoria shrugged, taking a seat between him and Ron on the floor, forcing the red-haired boy to move over to accommodate her, "So, what're you guys up to?"

Harry was at a loss for words. He just knew Malfoy knew more than he was letting on about the attacks on muggleborns, but the only way he'd ever fess up to something like that was if he thought he was talking to one of his friends.

Hence, the polyjuice potion plan was born.

Harry would take on the persona of Gregory Goyle, Ron would assume Vincent Crabbe's identity, and after a long discussion about ethics, Hermione would transform into Azula. He knew that Hermione had some lingering regret about having to take on Azula's identity – they had bonded a bit during what he dubbed "the troll incident" last year – but he and Ron were able to convince her that what they were doing was for the greater good.

"Let me guess. Lacewing fly. Fluxweed. Leeches." Astoria said the last word in disgust, "It's either you three have weird eating habits, or you're trying to brew polyjuice potion."

Harry froze, and out of his peripheral, he saw Ron's mouth drop open. Even Hermione seemed stunned with Astoria's very accurate guess. Shaking his head, Harry faced the Slytherin girl.

"What makes you say that?" Harry asked weakly, and he cursed himself for the slight tremble in his voice. He was usually a better liar than this.

He ignored the voice in his head that reminded him that he was a terrible liar.

"I don't know what the three of you think of me." Astoria started dryly, "but I happen to be top of my year in potions. It's my favorite subject, in fact. If you want, I can tell you the ingredients you're missing. Bicorn horn and –"

Astoria didn't get to finish what she was saying, for Ron's wand was soon pointed at her throat. The Slytherin girl didn't even blink.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, trying and failing to point Ron's wand away from Astoria, "You remember what your mother said? Not another foot out of line or else –"

"I'm not just going to let a Slytherin ruin what we've been working on for –"

"You think Draco's the Heir of Slytherin." Astoria interrupted Ron and Hermione's conversation, and all attention was returned to her, "He hates muggleborns, so why wouldn't he be, right? I could help you, if you'll let me."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Her words appeared earnest, and her eyes trustworthy, but he didn't understand why she would willingly help them. So, he told her so.

"Draco and I used to be so close, but he's…changed ever since the summer." Astoria's eyes welled up with tears, and Harry immediately felt uncomfortable. He'd never been good with calming anyone down, much less girls, "He's so caught up in his pureblood mania, and I'm afraid he's gotten himself in too deep this time."

"What do you mean this time?" Hermione asked, shuffling over so she could wrap her arms around the crying Slytherin girl.

Astoria sniffled, wiping her eyes on the fabric of her robes.

"I don't know how to explain it. It's just…bad things have been happening whenever he gets upset." Astoria said quietly, "I just want the old Draco back. Maybe if I knew why he was acting this way, that'd be a good start."

Harry rubbed his forehead tiredly. He didn't know what to say to that. The Slytherin girl seemed distraught at the loss of her friendship with Malfoy, and while he bore no sympathy for the rotten Slytherin boy, Astoria didn't seem to deserve the unfair treatment she was receiving.

"You're right. We're brewing a polyjuice potion." Harry sighed, ignoring Ron's incredulous look, "We've been noticing a trend with these attacks, and wanna get to the bottom of it. We're gonna use it to interrogate Malfoy, and see what he's up to."

"D-do you really think it's gonna work?" Astoria stammered, her tear marks dry, but still very much present.

Harry shrugged.

"Don't know, but it's the best choice we've got right now."

Astoria nodded, wrapping her robes tightly around herself as she stood up.

"I wish you guys luck." She murmured before walking to the door.

"You're not going to help us?" Ron exclaimed, "Really?"

Astoria stopped, turning around to face them once again.

"Your brothers have Filibuster fireworks." Astoria said quietly, "Use that as a diversion during your potions class, and you'll be sure to find the bicorn horn and boomslang skin in Snape's office."

With that, she left the bathroom, leaving Harry and his friends with a new idea in mind. A sense of hope filled Harry's veins, and judging by the look on Ron's and Hermione's faces, they felt it too.

So caught up in his hope, he didn't even bother questioning why Astoria knew what Snape kept in his office, or how she knew about Fred and George's pranks.

Swelling solution was an elementary potion. So elementary, in fact, that Draco had memories of brewing it with his mother at seven-years-old. Granted, his mother was a potions expert, but that wasn't the point. He was dreadfully bored with the class, and as a result, resorted to flicking puffer-fish eyes at Potter and Weasley. He knew that they couldn't retaliate, which only made it even more fun.

"You're being childish." Azula murmured from her seat next to him, but a quick glance at her showed him that she was grinning.

Draco rolled his eyes. She shouldn't throw stones at a glass house. She, herself, had just been lobbing dried nettles across the room at Longbottom, who looked as if he were about to burst into tears at any moment with the assault.

"I can't believe," Draco lowered his voice, "that Potter and his goons think they can impersonate people with polyjuice. I'd see through the ruse in a heartbeat."

"They're Gryffindors, Draco. Not Ravenclaws." Azula reminded him, "Brawn and no brain, remember?"

Draco nodded. When Astoria had returned to the Room of Requirement with tear marks on her face, Draco had immediately grown angry, vowing to hunt down anyone who had made her cry. His protectiveness got a coo from Azula, and a pinch on the cheek from Astoria, who kindly reminded him that she was great at fake crying on the spot. She relayed to them all the information Potter had confided in her, and Draco had to admit that he was impressed with her acting ability. He didn't yet know what he'd do about Potter's nosiness, but he could work that out over the soon approaching Christmas holiday.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Azula grabbed his arm. He followed her gaze to Potter, who held some kind of object in his hand as he reared his arm back. Azula's eyes widened, and she raised her wand, just in time for Potter to throw the object towards Goyle's potion.

"Protego." Azula casted for the second time that day.

The result was instantaneous. Goyle's cauldron exploded, and with it, his potion flew everywhere. Azula's protective spell shielded both him and Azula from the blast, along with Daphne and Blaise, who were conveniently sitting in the seats behind them. All around them, faces swelled to comical proportions, and Draco could've sworn he heard Blaise mutter a soft Grazie Dio – thank God.

He didn't pay attention to the hoard of students who rushed towards Snape, eager to get some of his Deflating Draft, but he did notice when Hermione Granger slipped in and out of Snape's office, her robes noticeably bulging before her. He turned to Azula to see if she, too, had noticed, and wasn't surprised that she had.

The Golden Trio wasn't going to get away with whatever they were planning. Draco would make sure of it.

When she first saw the Dueling Club sign, Azula was intrigued. DADA was still her favorite subject – despite the idiot who taught it – and that was how she and Draco ended up attending the club's first meeting. It had been easy to convince Draco to go with her. He, too, loved DADA, and figured it'd be useful for him to learn spells he could use against Harry.

Of course, with all good things in her life, there were negatives to outweigh the positives. Zuko had decided to join the club as well, and if that wasn't bad enough, Lockheart was the club's chaperone.

The first duel – more of a demonstration than anything – ended with Lockheart being disarmed by Snape's Expelliarmus before the DADA professor could properly blink. Not long after that, the students were divided into pairs to work on their dueling skill. To her great amusement and smugness, Azula was paired with Zuko.

"Did you miss me, brother?" Azula cooed at him, taking pleasure in how disturbed her brother seemed by her.

Zuko grunted, the sound making him sound like a wild hippo cow.

"Let's just get this over with." Zuko said harshly, wasting no time in pointing his wand at her, "Stupefy!"

Azula rebounded the spell with a simple Protego, countering with the bat bogies hex. Zuko, to her surprise, raised a shield of his own, and she had to dodged the spell as it came hurtling back towards her. They both ignored the instruction to only work on defensive spells.

"Confringo!" Zuko cried out.

Azula watched in half puzzlement and half disdain as the flames came towards her. Had her brother truly forgotten that she was a firebending prodigy? With a mere raise of her hand, the flames dissipated.

"Expel –" Zuko tried to say, but Azula cut him off with a "Tarantallegra" of her own.

His legs jerking wildly, Zuko was unable to control the movements of his own legs. Azula laughed at him, her laughs growing louder the more Zuko glared at her. With a simple cast of Finite Incantatem, Snape put Zuko out of his misery.

Lockheart, sensing that his first dueling club meeting was proving unsuccessful so far, attempted to teach them to block offensive spells. Azula already knew the spell Protego, so she tuned out his directions. What caught her interest was when Harry and Draco ended up being opponents. She gathered that one of the professors – probably Snape – thought it'd be a great idea to pair them up.

On Lockheart's' count, Draco yelled out a spell that even Azula had never heard of.

Serpensortia.

A large snake came out from the end of his wand, and Azula saw as Harry's eyes widened in shock as it moved towards Justin Finch-Fletchley. The Gryffindor golden boy, instead of backing away from the creature, sauntered towards it.

"Leave it alone!" Harry hissed, and the gasps of the surrounding students could be heard.

Azula didn't understand why they were reacting with such horror. All Harry had been trying to do was get the snake away from a fellow student. What was so horrible about that?

"This is stupid." Azula said darkly, watching as the snake turned to face her, "Stop your shenanigans this instant so I can go back to pummeling my brother."

The shocked gazes turned from Harry to her, and Azula, again, didn't understand what the dramatics were for. The snake abruptly stopped its movements, laying still at her feet. A tug on her arm brought her away from the snake, and before she knew it, she was in one of Hogwarts' many corridors, being dragged by Draco.

"Let go of me and tell me what you're doing." Azula demanded, ripping her sleeve out of Draco's grasp.

"You never told me you were a parselmouth." Draco whispered the last word.

Azula opened her mouth to ask him exactly what a parselmouth was, but a voice entered her head before she could.

'I can speak to snakes.' The voice from the Room of Requirement repeated eerily.

Azula shook her head to rid herself of the voice.

"If I can talk to snakes," Azula said haughtily, "that can only be to my benefit, right?"

"You mean you didn't know?" Draco asked her, and to Azula, he seemed paler than usual.

Azula shrugged.

"Listen, Draco. If I'm not bothered by it, you shouldn't be either." Azula replied easily, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do in advance."

She walked away from him, not expecting him to follow her. Talking to snakes should've excited her, but she got the strange sense that her new ability – which had only manifested after that strange mist emitted from the journal – wasn't something to be lauded.

"She's talking to snakes now." Draco murmured quietly to Astoria.

After Azula had abandoned him in the middle of the hallways, Draco made his way to the Slytherin common room, grateful that Astoria was already there. The common room was practically empty, except for Malia di Angelo, who wouldn't stop pacing. He didn't think she'd be too much of an issue, though.

"That journal's possessed her." Astoria declared firmly, "I'm certain of it."

While Draco had already come to that troubling conclusion, hearing Astoria confirm it didn't make him feel any better.

"The question is what we do about it." Astoria rested her head on the arm of the couch they were sitting on, letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm staying here for Christmas, but I can write to my mother." Draco thought aloud, "She seemed to know something about that journal when I mentioned it over the summer. It belonged to my Aunt Bellatrix during the first war. Maybe she'll know how to help."

Astoria scoffed.

"You're gonna tell Aunt Cissa that one of your friends has been possessed by a journal?" Astoria asked him in disbelief, "She'll pull you out of Hogwarts faster than Snape can take points from Gryffindor. You know that."

"I'll be discreet." Draco defended himself, "She doesn't have to know the details. Trust me on this one."

Astoria stared at him for a while, the doubt clear in her eyes.

"Are you sure this'll help?" She asked in a small voice.

Draco gave her his best attempt at a reassuring smile, but knew that it came out as more of a grimace.

"No, but it's the best shot we have."

Author's Note: As always, thanks to all who read, favorited, followed, and commented. For those of you whose comments I can't reply to because they're guest comments, I've read your comments too and appreciate them greatly!