A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed! Nonjon: Always down to see a good pic of Draco on a cactus. Lucy Maud Montgomery: Thank you so much!

Anyways, I don't have much to say, so here we go :)

The Snake and The Hand: Control, or lack thereof.

Luna knew Blaise was acting weird. Although her head normally floated among the clouds, she was quite aware of what was going on around her at all time. Perhaps it was the bullying prior to the war, perhaps it was the war. The constant looking over her shoulder to make sure nobody was following her, or worse. There was certainly a time when it was worse than just following. This however, was different than what she was normally looking out for. Blaise wasn't acting threatening, he harbored no ill will. So why did it make her feel so concerned? So... uneasy?

He'd never really had friends aside from Draco, perhaps he just didn't know how to act. She had to say that his actions in front of Harry had alarmed her for a second, though that never displayed across her features. She even stopped him before their next class and asked if he was okay. His face had flushed and he vehemently choked out that he was fine.

A fever?

Luna sat in the common room. It was relatively early on a Saturday morning. Draco and Hermione had left already, headed to the Great Hall for breakfast and then to the library. Draco had mentioned before he left that Blaise didn't want to get up. Perhaps he really was sick. Maybe he had been leaning on her in the hall with Harry, and he was just too proud to say he was feverish. Luna pulled her wand from behind her ear, conjuring a bowl and a rag. Neatly, she tucked her wand back behind her ear, before climbing the steps.

She didn't knock. She could hear him snoring on the other side of the door, so she didn't see the need in disturbing him quite yet. Slowly, she pushed the large, dark door open and slipped inside. It closed quietly behind her and she allowed her eyes to scan the room. It was Slytherin colors, dark. The windows were covered by curtains and there was hardly any light spewing into the room, but it was enough to see. Her eyes fell towards Blaise who was still sound asleep. Quietly and quickly, she crossed the room and entered their bathroom to fill the bowl with luke warm water.

Once she returned, she made her way over to his bed- setting the bowl and the rag down on his nightstand. He was laying on his stomach, face buried in the pillows. Luna lightly chuckled, thinking for a moment he looked rather innocent. Peaceful. Her angelic voice nearly lit up the room.

"Blaise," at first it was a whisper, growing a bit louder as she noticed he didn't respond. Her fingers gripped the top of his blanket, slowly pulling it down. He was shirtless. "Blaise." Her face felt warm as her eyes trailed over his exposed back. Why did her mouth feel dry all of a sudden? Had she contracted the fever too? Pursing her lips, her delicate fingers pressed into his back, finally stirring the Italian.

"Hmmm?," it was a groggy, husky sound that made Luna's stomach twist in a way she quite didn't understand. He rolled over, exposing his abdomen and his sleepy expression.

His sleepy expression that immediately turned to shock when he saw exactly who had woken him up. And that she was staring at his chest.

"L-Luna!" He practically yelped like a young school girl, ripping his comforter up in one spastic motion. In his haste, he knocked the bowl off his nightstand and it effectively splashed all over Luna- soaking her light blue sleepwear. The silk fabric of the shirt immediately clung to her curves and made him painfully aware that she had no bra on. Now, his mouth was dry, thinking that he couldn't even wake up without her haunting him. His morning wood throbbed in his boxers. He groaned, pulling the covers fully over his head as one hand shot out to find the sleep shirt he was sure was somewhere in between the sheets.

"Luna, what are you doing?," he was trying not to spit it out so aggressively, but he was struggling with his own demons currently and she was certainly not making it any easier.

"Well, I thought you had a fever yesterday, and since you didn't want to leave bed, I assumed you were most certainly sick- so I thought I'd come tend to you, since you've done so much for me." Her voice was too sweet for this early in the morning, Blaise decided. Finally, he found the shirt he was so desperately looking for. Without uncovering his eyes, he threw it in her direction.

"Change into that Luna. You're indecent now, and you're in a man's room. I know that hardly means anything to you, but in normal society, this is frowned upon." He couldn't help but be angry. Mostly because he was embarrassed. Embarrassed that he had that reaction to her waking him up. Embarrassed that she thought something was wrong with him cause he was having difficulty controlling his jealousy. Why was she like this? If this had been any other girl, they would have already been in his bed. Hell, they probably wouldn't even have left since the night prior. But this was Luna Lovegood. She was completely unaware of what line she was crossing. He let out a shuddering breath, hearing Luna's wet shirt hit the hardwood below.

"Are you changing right here?," he snapped, unable to believe that she was that naive. "Are you even aware that I'm a man and you're a woman?" Call it too early for him to be able to deal with the situation appropriately. He was losing his patience.

"Well, of course Blaise, basic anatom-"

"Then why are you changing in the same room as me? I could pull down my blanket right now and probably get quite the show."

"Well, it would be too late now, as I've already changed. And you didn't do it, so there really was no problem was there? And, I don't really think that's your style." Her airy voice caused Blaise to let out an annoyed sigh, slowly pulling down the blanket to peer over at her. His shirt touched just above her knees. It hung off of her. While Ginny's breast had filled out the top portion of the same shirt, Luna's barely distressed the fabric. Somehow it was worlds sexier. Blaise swallowed as Luna disappeared to refill the bowl.

Once she was back, Blaise was on his back, glaring up at the ceiling and willing his boner to disappear. Thankfully, he was successful just in time for her to come from the bathroom. He watched her closely as she neared him and dipped the rag into the water and drained it.

"Do you have any stomach issues? My stomach was flipping all over the place just before. I wonder if I'm catching it too." Blaise blinked at her, uncertain of what the hell she was referring too. Could... could she be feeling something? Unable to decipher what it meant, but something? Blaise swallowed the lump of excitement that rose in his throat.

"Yes," he said dryly, closing his eyes and Luna laid the cloth on his head. His heart was pounding, for various reasons. He thought, probably the most prominent being the fact that nobody had ever... worried about his well being, let alone enough to care for him. And he wasn't even sick. At least, in that sense. He felt the bed dip and popped an eye open, just to see her peering down at him with concern. "It will be okay, Luna. Probably just a little bug."

Why was he lying? Why was he playing along? Luna nodded slowly, before she slowly rose to her feet. Blaise panicked for a brief second, unable to stop his body's natural reaction to her leaving. He grabbed her wrist, tugging her down on the bed. He could blame all this on a fever, he had an opportunity. And Slytherins never missed a good opportunity. Once she was seated back on his mattress, he hooked his arm around her shoulders and brought her crashing down, so her head landed on his chest. Luna made a quiet noise, but didn't struggle.

"You want to help me?" He could feel her nod in response against his chest. "Stay here, don't move, let me rest. I don't want to have to worry about what trouble you're in while I try and ... recover... from this illness. You should do the same." He tried to sound less desperate and more annoyed, but he was pretty sure it didn't come out that way. He heard her quiet giggle and felt her relax. His chest heaved a sigh of relief, unable to deny the smile that ripped across his features. Salazar, what luck? He closed his eyes, willing himself to fall back asleep, happily surrounded by her warmth.

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/

Hermione and Draco were not having a peaceful morning, curled up together in a peaceful slumber. No, their morning had started with a fight. Normally, the pair broke out in numerous arguments throughout the day, but this time had been different. The argument was not between the them.

At first, it was peaceful. Hermione had checked out the books they needed for an upcoming astrology assignment, and they had been on their way to the astrology tower. They had both been on edge anyways, there were plenty of horrible memories coming from that tower alone. More so, maybe, than the rest of the school. But, regardless of memories, there was an assignment to complete. And Hermione Granger would be damned if she let memories get in the way of her studies.

Draco, however, was a bit more bitter. There was so much rage and shame tied to this one building. Where he was supposed to murder the previous Headmaster. Where Snape had murdered him. It was clear to see, he was in a fowl mood, although this time he wasn't taking it out on Hermione. He probably would have just sulked in silence had Ron not appeared before him, looking desperate and angry.

"'Mione," he whined, in a voice that was enough to permanently roll Draco's eyes to the back of his skull. "I've been trying to owl you, you haven't even responded..."

"Ronald, honestly, what would you like me to respond with?" This peaked Draco's interest, as he idly watched from behind the headstrong Gryffindor.

"Well, a yes for starts. We can have Harry talk to McGonnagal, she owes us loads of favors. You shouldn't have to be stuck with this git. You've done enough, Mione." Draco was about to open his mouth, he was about to retort with something nasty. But Hermione beat him to it.

"I will not shrink away from my responsibilities, Ronald." Her voice was icy, and Draco had heard that same tone directed towards him many of times. But never towards a party of the Golden Trio. "And I ended things over the summer. I didn't make that decision lightly." Ron's eyes narrowed at her, before he shot a glared towards Draco.

"So that's it then, you and Looney just change sides?! Just like that, you turn into a traitor. You can't even respond to me, haven't spoken to Harry. You've changed."

"We've all changed. We all went through a war. And I have a duty to do, still. Sorry if you and Harry can't look past who I was randomly assigned to assist." She sent him a pointed look, obviously annoyed with his antics. "We are all trying to rebuild here, Ron." And she was moving passed him. He looked like a fire had been lit inside of him and his hand shot out to grab her arm.

"I wasn't done talking to you, Hermione." His voice was tight and he was glaring at her. He might of even forgot Draco was there, if he hadn't intervened. The moment Ronald's hand landed on Hermione's arm, Draco was springing into action. He gripped Ron's wrist, and painfully twisted it- enough to elicit a pained yelp from the red head.

"Don't touch her so casually," he hissed, looking far more venomous than Ron could ever dream. He had stepped between them now. "Now, I know its hard for your small brain to understand what's going on without it being laid all out in front of your face, so let me offer you this. She's done talking to you, Weaselbee." It didn't take long for Ron to start spluttering with a rage Hermione rarely had seen before. He was glowering.

"So, now he can even speak for you?!" He barked over Draco's shoulder, Hermione turned a sharp eye to him.

"Since you aren't understanding what I've been trying to say politely, perhaps he can." And perhaps that wasn't the thing to say to Ron. His face was bright red, and before anybody knew what was happening, he landed a punch directly on Draco's nose, effectively knocking him to the ground. Hermione gasped. Blood was already starting to flow from his nose.

"Ronald!" She turned, shooting him a nasty glare. "You're acting like a savage."

"And you're acting like a bitch! Honestly, Mione you are choosing Draco bloody Malfoy over your best friends! Are you shagging him?" Ron had never been the most rational person, but that was crossing a line. In the amount of time it took for Ron to realize what he had say and for her to close the distance was very fast. Her hand caught his cheek in a rough slap, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. The audacity.

"Leave. Now." Ron stood, holding onto his cheek but making no motion to move. Hermione whipped her wand from her robes.

"Avis," she muttered, and several yellow canaries began fluttering around her. Ronald made some kind of noise between a groan and a cry before he disappeared down the hallways, as fast as he could. He was familiar with this charm. Hermione sent the birds after him for good measure.

It was quiet again, aside from Draco slowly coming back to his sense.

"Bloody hell, did I just get punched?" He muttered, unable to believe that Weasley had the balls to land one on him. He spit some blood to the side and sat up. Hermione reached a hand out for him, and he used it to rise. "Where did he go?" His eyes scanned the area dangerously as he wiped the blood away with the sleeve of his robe. "He'll pay for that."

"He's gone," she said curtly, "And I don't have time for revenge. I want to start this assignment." She moved passed him, taking the path they were on before all the commotion. Draco stared after her for a moment, before begrudgingly following. He'd much rather revenge at this point.

"What did you do?" He asked as he finally caught up to her.

"I sent him away. That's all. Can we drop it?" Her voice was tight, he could hear the underlying anger and maybe a bit of hurt in there. There relationship was becoming much more manageable, but he didn't want to push it so he fell quietly into step with her. It was surprisingly irritating to him, the hurt in her voice. The fact that it was caused by somebody other than him.

In the silence, he pondered that.

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/

When Blaise awoke, he could tell it was much later in the morning, it could have even been well into the afternoon. He could feel Luna curled around him and he basked in it for a moment. His arms encircled her and he held her close, burying his face in her hair. He inhaled, enjoying her warm scent. Admittedly, he could lay there forever. This was probably the closest he'd ever get to Luna, all thanks to a fake fever she had made up. He planned to enjoy this for all it was worth. In fact- he might just... -

SLAM

The door flew open and Draco sauntered in, ready to tell Blaise of the savage behavior Weasley had exuded- only to stop dead in his tracks. Blaise froze, wide eye.

"No bloody way," he heard Draco hiss out, the laugh underlying his words. Luna stirred, moaning quietly in her sleep and Blaise rushed to let go of her and sit up. He fixed a glare on Draco's face, which was obviously struggling to hold back a laugh.

"Shut up," he hissed back quietly, eyes narrowing. "It's not what it looks like."

"Where's your shirt, then, mate?"

"Get out, Draco. I'll explain later."

"Oh, hello Draco." It was Luna's voice this time. Blaise gave a frustrated sigh. "Blaise was feeling feverish, I was just taking care of him." Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose, Draco burst out laughing.

"Work it out of him, Lovegood?" Blaise shot him a dangerous look, baiting him to say something else.

"Well, no I'm sure he needs a bit more time-"

"Enough. Draco, leave." He pointed to the door, while Draco eyed him mischievously.

"Oh, certainly. Wouldn't want to interrupt." And with that he saluted Blaise and disappeared from the room. Blaise flopped back onto the mattress, face screwed up in annoyance. He figured Luna would leave now. It made sense for her to, she spent quite sometime in his bed. However, she would shock him once again, her arm sliding around his middle and using it as an anchor to pull herself back against him.

"Luna...?" His voice was barely above a whisper and she hummed in response. Carefully he slid his arm under her, carefully securing her in place.

"I wasn't quite ready to wake up, yet. Were you?"

"No- no." More lies. His adrenaline was pumping, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away from her. She hummed again and settled, obviously searching for sleep once more.

God, maybe he was sick.