AN: Hello dearies! I'm a tad bit late, I know, but here it is nonetheless: chapter 36. A big thank you to None Yet, the guest reviewer, for your very cute review! I'm glad you like the story so far. Enjoy this week's chapter!

Chapter 36

'Thanks a bloody lot again, Parkinson,' Daisy mumbled, as she moved on to the next trophy case. They had been there for two hours already, having to polish off every single trophy, medal and badge in the room. And let me tell you; that were quite a few.

Of course professor McGonagall had been mild on her. If she had wanted, she could have expelled Daisy for attempted violence. She hadn't however, even when she found the girl laughing her arse off with Fred and George Weasley when she'd come back into her office.

'This is all your fault.'

Daisy snorted at that, but didn't deem it worthy of an answer. She loathed being in the same room with the annoying, bitchy Slytherin – constantly alternating between wanting to kill the Slytherin or herself – but knowing that she'd been put into detention as well made it all the more bearable. Apparently Snape possessed some sense of fairness, small as it may be, even though it was probably based solely on the fact that he was annoyed for being disturbed during dinner.

'Would the two of you shut up, already?' Draco Malfoy drawled from across the room, his voice laced with irritation.

Oh right, he was there, too. She had not been aware of it at the time – too occupied with the pug-faced girl that was pressing her wand in Daisy's face – but sometime during the confrontation he had gotten his wand out as well. Although it had probably been to help Parkinson hex her, Daisy was kind of glad for not being all alone with her. With self-control as poor as her own, that could have only led to one thing. Murder.

'But Drakie-poo,' Parkinson cooed – in a voice that made her ears bleed – and pouted. 'You know it's her fault, right? If she hadn't been about to hex me, I wouldn't have had to defend myself. I shouldn't have to do this cleaning, it's servant stuff!'

Daisy did not know what was more laughable: the nickname or the rather ridiculous account Parkinson made of the entire situation.

'It's bad enough that I'm in detention because of your pity fight, Parkinson. Now continue with those bloody trophies or I'll hex you myself.'

The Gryffindor turned back to her own case, then, desperate to hide the smile that was creeping up her face. Of course she knew that Malfoy was in no way taking her side on this, let alone defend her. But it felt good to not be on the receiving end of his wrath for once.

'But Drakie-poo,' the female Slytherin continued to whine, though she never got to finish her lament.

'What did I tell you about working in silence?' Filch suddenly cut in, stepping into the room with Mrs. Norris faithfully trailing behind him. None of them had seen the caretaker or his cat come in, as was his habit. 'A few hours hanging by your thumbs in the dungeon would do the trick, I tell you. Back in the days, you could hear them scream up to the second floor.' A strangely nostalgic look passed over his face and he smiled – or what was supposed to be a smile; in actuality it was more of a strange, strained lifting of the muscles in the corner of his mouth. All in all, it made for a pretty discomforting sight.

'You can't do that!' Parkinson said in her usual annoying tone, though the paleness of her face told her she wasn't all too sure of it.

Filch did not acknowledge her, instead spent another moment staring smilingly off into the distance, before he shook his head and all traces of good humour were gone. 'Peeves just flooded the toilets on the fifth floor. They need to be unclogged and the floor mopped. Come along, Miss Parkinson.'

'What? Why?'

'So you'll work in silence.'

'No, I'll be quiet. I promise!'

'Come along.'

The Slytherin gave a last, longing look at Malfoy – as if he was going to save her somehow – and then threw her sponge back into the bucket with an indignant huff. Without another word she stormed out of the trophy room.

Three seconds passed in silence in which they listened at the retreating footsteps. 'So…'

'Don't start it, McCalman.'

'No but..-'

'The only reason I got your back is because if she hexed you and you would somehow deflect it again, your secret would come out and I would be in trouble as well. That's it.'

'I was not going to say that,' she chuckled, smiling softly. 'Nor did I know you were trying to help me... Drakie-poo.'

'Don't call me that.'

'Parkinson can.'

He sighed deeply and turned to her, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Parkinson can't; she just does.'

'Well, but as your supposed girlfriend, don't you think I..-'

'No.'

'But..-'

'No.'

'Hey Draco,' she said, smiling at her next move 'Thank you.'

As she had hoped, this started off another screaming match; him defending his selfish reasons for having her back, her just riling him up further. This is how Filch found them ten minutes later, still yelling at one another and the sponges long forgotten in the bucket. It earned them an added hour of detention in complete silence and a deduction of 20 points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. And as they both returned to work, they finally realised Daisy's slip-up.

When Daisy finally returned to the Gryffindor Common Room later that night, the skin on her fingers was pruned and her arms ached from all the scrubbing she had done. Ever since he'd come back, Filch had kept a constant eye on them, not trusting them to be alone anymore. It was all well, Daisy supposed, for she'd not had much time to put things in order as of yet.

Curiously, she spent very little fight analyzing the fight with Parkinson. The Slytherin had only hit her with easy insults, making it not nearly as frustrating as arguing with Malfoy could be. Daisy herself knew she was no beauty, with her plain features, strawberry blond hair and freckles, but she had long since accepted that. Therefore, the female Slytherin's insults had hardly ruffled any feathers.

Instead, she was more surprised by Malfoy's reaction to the entire situation. She remembered he had tried to stop Parkinson from fighting and had taken Daisy's side again in the trophy room. He had stated that it was purely for selfish reasons, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was something else as well. What was perhaps more worrisome, was that a part of her wanted there to be.

She sighed as she walked into the round Common Room, immediately greeted by the warmth of the fire. She blamed all of this sudden awareness of his maleness on that moment in the cabinet of the Potion's Master. If it hadn't been for that stupid moonstone and ashwinder eggs, she would be feeling none of this. And surely then she wouldn't have called him by his given name by accident.

'Where did you come from?'

Looking up from her thoughts, Daisy noticed a head of busy brown hair in one of the plush chairs in front of the hearth. She considered lying, but knew that she would get more scolding if the brunette were to find out. 'Detention.'

The sound of a book closing followed and Hermione turned around in her seat. 'Again?! Daisy you sh..-'

'I know,' she held up her hand in defense. 'But on my honour, this time it really wasn't my fault.'

'Truly, sometimes I think you are worse than Harry and Ron combined.'

Daisy chuckled, not about to deny it. 'I'm going to bed.'

'I'll be there in a few minutes, I'm just going to finish this chapter.'

Daisy nodded and she was halfway to the staircase when she remembered something. 'Say, Hermione. You wouldn't happen to know any potions that are made with powdered moonstone and ashwinder eggs, do you?'

Five seconds passed in which Hermione thought, and Daisy could practically hear the gears in her head turning. When at last she answered, her reply was short and exactly everything that she hadn't hoped for.

'Amortentia.'

AN: Sooooo did you expect that to happen? Also, I have a question for you guys. At the very beginning of this story, someone told me that they thought it a pity that Daisy was a Gryffindor. However, given her character I really couldn't imagine her being in any other House than Gryffindor. What are your thoughts? Would she fit in another House? And if so, which one and why?