Chapter 11

The next few days were filled with talk of Sirius Black, but I was concerned with more pressing matters, like how Draco was going to answer me. We didn't talk at all, except to exchange snide comments during class and in the corridors, but that was par for the course. I couldn't tell if I was avoiding him more, or him me. It was like first year all over again, and it was only serving to amp up my annoyance and frustration at him. By the time the next Friday came, I was so angry that when he passed me a note in potions, I nearly ignored it, but curiosity got the better of me. Maybe this was his answer?

I opened the note, read it quickly, then threw a glare in his direction, which he ignored. All it said was to meet him after class in 'our spot,' which I took to mean the room behind the tapestry. I spent the rest of the class quite distracted, and I had no idea what the homework was for the weekend. I'd eventually have to ask someone about it, but I wasn't that concerned. I was already doing badly in this class, one more thing done poorly wouldn't much matter. I was eager to get to the room and hear Draco's answer, and ended up there way before him, as he was swaggering along with his little crew. I didn't know how he'd slip away from them, but I didn't much care.

I sat on the emerald green couch that had been cleared of dust long ago, and stared at the empty fireplace. After about ten minutes, I got tired of thinking the same things over and over (Will he even come? Has he set me up for a joke? Will we go public after this?), and the answer to all my thoughts was a resounding, Probably not. I pointed my wand at the fireplace and said, "Incendio!" A fire blazed up immediately, and I frowned at it.

"Very nice. I'll never understand how you can be so good at practical incantations, but never the work behind them," came Draco's voice from behind me.

I turned to look at him, still frowning. "Don't come in here and think that your flattery will make me change my mind."

He walked around the couch and came to sit next to me, while I watched him. He sat, and I scooted away from him. He just sighed. "Don't be like this, Shae. I know you were angry, but it's been a week. See reason, won't you?"

"Reason, what, for you to keep on acting like you hate me?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, like I said, I can't let people know-"

"So, you've just gone and ignored everything I said on Halloween?" I stared at him, and he didn't answer. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"Shae, just think about it. It's only third year, we've got a long time to think about the rest of those things. I can't come up with an answer to everything in just a week, but maybe I can in a few years," he said, almost pleading.

Which was ridiculous, because Draco Malfoy does not plead. I just stared at him, then finally sighed. "Can you at least try to keep them from mocking me all the time? You, too. Tell them, I dunno..." I thought for a second. "Tell them that it will affect my Quidditch playing, and maybe that will be enough to keep from saying stupid things about my parents, at least."

He looked at me, then finally nodded. "I'll tell them, but I can't guarantee anything."

"Good enough, I suppose." He finally smirked, and immediately closed in on me. I held up my hand to stop him. "Hold on, one more thing. This is important. Don't be letting Pug-face Parkinson touch on you and fawn all over you. I don't like it, and I really will be done if you don't make her stop."

In response, he just got an even more smug look on his face, if that was even possible. "I knew you were jealous. Fine, fine, I'll tell her to stop."

"Good," I said, and then his lips were on mine. I honestly didn't know what I was going to do if we had broken up; after all, I really did like him, even if he was an insufferable idiot, which is probably the only reason I backed down.

The first Quidditch match of the year was coming soon, and I was getting more and more excited, even as the weather got worse. Then, I heard Draco laughing with the rest of the team in the common room a few days before the match about how we weren't going to play, just after a particularly rough practice. I marched over, still soaking wet and muddy and cold, as I had taken a little time to fly after practice, while the rest of the team was dry and warm.

"Did you just say we're not playing the match? What are we going to do, forfeit?" I asked derisively.

Marcus Flint, the captain, looked at me. "Not that it's any of your business, Mudblood, but we're not forfeiting. We have a perfectly made excuse in the form of Draco's arm healing, so we'll be able to play in more..." he paused as he looked at me, sopping wet and dripping all over the floor and rugs, "...favorable conditions."

"God! Y'all really are the worst, aren't you!" I shook my head, getting water droplets on anything nearby, which included Flint. "You're making something up just to get out of playing in a little bit of rain? Quidditch matches don't stop for the weather, idiot."

"Which is why we're not using the weather as an excuse," Draco butted in. "My arm's got to be fully healed, y'know-"

"Not this again! Your arm's been healed since the day after you got that tiny little scrape, or are you such a little girl that you've honestly been downed by a scratch!" I glared at him. I had been looking forward to this, but no all this training, coming up to more waiting for the match. I was pissed, to put it simply.

This time, he glared back. I had wounded his pride, and, as always, he did not take that well. He came closer to me, so that we were within half a foot of each other now, nearly touching as he gave me a look like daggers, and I did the same to him, though I thought I might not look as intimidating. After all, I probably resembled a drowned rat, and was craning my head back to see him, while he was looking down his nose at me. "That bloody chicken could've taken my arm off! That's not the point, though, is it? The point is, we don't want to play in these conditions, coming in looking like, well, that," he said quite nastily, looking me up and down as if I were disgusting.

"I may look soaking wet and muddy, granted, but I still can't even compare to you, you egotistical, slimy, narrow-minded, selfish bastard."

"We all like Quidditch, darling, but I think you must have a fetish if you love it that much, that you won't take an out for weather like this."

My whole face flushed red, whether out of embarrassment or anger, I wasn't completely sure. "Fuck you, Malfoy."

"You wish, filth."

I turned on my heel, stomping up the stairs as I listened to the Slytherins break out into laughter. I stormed into my room, and veered straight toward the bathroom, where I took a shower, letting most of my anger wash away. Most. We had, after all, just a couple weeks previous come to an agreement that he would get people to stop mocking me, and how was he supposed to do that if he was doing it himself? I had kind of walked into that argument, though, what else could I expect after calling him out on his fake injury, so I couldn't totally blame him. The 'filth' comment was unnecessary, I was sure of that.

I walked out of my bathroom in a considerably better mood, now warm and clean. I had a towel around me, and I was using another to dry my hair. I didn't ever take clothes into the bathroom with me anymore, ever since people stopped coming into my room to mess with my stuff (which only happened after I had hexed a girl badly enough that I got detention for a week), so I wasn't expecting anyone to be there. I froze when I heard Draco's lazy drawl, "So you want to fuck me, now? I thought we had decided to wait?" I could hear the smirk in his voice.

I rolled my eyes, but finished drying my hair, and finally looked up to see him sitting in the middle of my bed. He was smirking, like I had thought. "You know what I meant, Draco, don't take it out of context. I think it's a rotten thing to do, postponing our match for a fake injury. I was looking forward to it." I made sure my towel was still covering everything, and walked toward my trunk. Unfortunately, digging in my trunk for clothes made me have to face toward Draco, and bend over, so I kept one hand on the top of my towel while I rifled through my clothes with the other.

"Well, it'll be easier to beat Gryffindor when we have better weather, and it's not like we had to forfeit the match, otherwise we'd just play." He watched what I was doing more closely. "By all means, don't get dressed on my account. I rather like this outfit."

I straightened up, face burning, and finally made a random grab for some clothes. I didn't answer him, but instead went into the bathroom to get dressed. I looked at what I had grabbed: an old T-shirt, some sleep pants, and...no underwear. Wonderful. At least I grabbed a top and a bottom, I thought. I put them on, albeit uncomfortably, and walked back out into my room, where Draco was still casually reclining in the middle of my bed. "What are you even doing up here, Draco?" I asked, as I tried to get into the bed without getting too close to him.

He solved that problem soon, though, by grabbing me and pulling me flush against him. We were both on our sides, facing each other, now. "Well I thought I'd come up here to check on you. Last time we had a fight, you tried to break up with me. Couldn't have that happening again."

I could feel his breath on my lips, and just stared at his eyes for a second before I came to. "Damn, quit trying to dazzle me. I'm angry about this."

"'Dazzle' you? I'm not trying to do anything, except talk to my girlfriend," he smirked mischievously.

I sighed. "Fine, I'm not angry anymore, you got what you wanted."

"Not really, what I wanted even more was for you to drop the towel and not get dressed."

I couldn't help but giggle a bit, and I even thought I sounded ridiculous, but couldn't stop myself. "Too bad. Maybe another day."

"Yes, well, for now, this'll do." Then he kissed me, and the rest of the night was spent making out.

When I woke the next morning, we were still holding each other. Our legs were in between each others, and I was pretty much laying on his chest, as it moved deeply and evenly beneath my cheek. That changed very quickly, as I practically fell out of the bed in my haste to get up. "Shit!" was the only thing I said as I hit the floor.

"Wha'? Whos'ere?" Draco sat up and looked around sleepily, then spotted me on the floor, and his eyes shot open with alarm. "Shit!" he echoed me. "What time is it?" I just shrugged, then pointed to the watch on the nightstand, which he picked up and then practically ran out the door with. A few seconds later, he was back, out of breath. "This is yours," he said matter-of-factly, then swooped down and gave me a peck on the cheek and rushed out again, leaving me blushing, still on the floor.

"Well, that could've gone better," I muttered to myself, then got ready for the day. I saw that it was almost time for our first class, and rushed to get dressed, going to class hungry, but fully satisfied, nonetheless.