------------------------------------------------------LIGHT UP MY CAVE------------------------------------------------------
Daphne woke from her deep slumber to hear a clattering from the kitchen. Oh Merlin, what did she break? she thought bitterly. Honestly, that Granger girl ... how dare she wake her up like that? She got off the bed and felt her limbs resentfully complaining. With all this sleeping, she hardly got any work done; her muscles got zilch exercise. She stomped towards the kitchen, but her quick steps slowed down as a familiar scent wafted up her nose. Food? Her stomach grumbled – when was the last time Daphne had had food?
She was still peeved with Granger, though.
"Granger, what the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, watching Granger work with giant-sized pots and ingredients. Daphne waved a hand in front of her face, fanning herself. It was really hot in this kitchen.
Granger turned around, her black hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. Daphne wrinkled her nose automatically. Ew, Daphne thought. All that sweat for just doing work. Granger, despite being extremely pretty, looked like a thorough mess. The front of her clothes was messed with food, and she had smears of what looked like sauce on her face.
"Just cooking!" Granger said, panting slightly. Daphne raised an eyebrow. Was the girl stressing? Granger, noticing Daphne's reaction, said quickly, "No, I'm just working against time at the moment... Did you have something to ask?"
Daphne didn't actually care whether time was a problem or not. Granger had turned back to face the pot, stirring madly. Jeez, you'd think Snape was breathing down her neck telling her to hurry up, or something. "If you could keep the noise down, it would be much appreciated," Daphne said, mock-sweetly.
Granger whirled around, waving the sauce spoon at Daphne. Daphne ducked – bits of sauce were flying off the spoon. "I'd like to see you standing here and cooking!" Granger said shrilly. "All you do is sleep, sleep, sleep!" She turned back to the food, muttering things inaudibly.
Daphne felt like laughing. She clenched her teeth to hold the laugh back. This girl's moods fluctuated so haphazardly! She was seriously amusing, she was. One second she was blushing and getting all flustered at the mere mention of Malfoy, and the next moment she was spitting fire! She clenched her teeth tighter, and a few seconds later, the laughter died down.
"About that," Daphne started reluctantly. "I need your help with something." Daphne really didn't want to ask Granger for her help, but since she really wanted this...
Granger didn't reply; she just shrugged her shoulders. Daphne took that as a "go ahead" gesture. "Cast a spell on me that can temporarily keep me awake," she ordered. Granger didn't reply. "Please," Daphne added, gritting her teeth and rolling her eyes. Damn Granger and her ethics. Daphne really needed help, though. She couldn't do anything because her body wanted to sleep all the time. It was bloody pathetic.
Granger tapped the edge of the pot with the spoon twice so that all the excess sauce was removed. She placed the spoon on a saucer next to the pot, and turned to face Daphne. She still didn't look too happy, though. Her eyebrows were furrowed, creating a double crease in her forehead. Her lips (damn, they were such an enviable red! She wasn't even wearing lip-gloss!) were pulled into a straight line.
"Well?" Daphne asked, tapping her foot impatiently.
Granger gave her a look. Daphne shrugged. Yeah, sure she might have been sounding a bit too unreasonable, acting a bit unreasonable, too – but really, this was an important matter!
Granger dusted her hands, and waved her wand behind her. Daphne stared, amazed (though she wouldn't have admitted it) as all the ingredients and pots (etc) shrunk back to their normal, dwarf-appropriate size. Daphne rolled her eyes afterwards. Of course Granger would be able to do the spell! Why on earth had she doubted the girl's magical abilities?
The messy witch sighed. She regarded Daphne, looking her up and down. Daphne stared back coolly. "Well?" Daphne asked again, this time more impatient.
"I might," Granger sighed.
"It's a yes or no question, Granger," Daphne said irritably, her hands on her hips.
Granger raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, you sound so much like Malfoy sometimes," she said, but then she shut her mouth with an audible snap, looking as if she shouldn't have said that.
Daphne shook her head. "You are really into Malfoy, aren't you?" she asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question.
Granger narrowed her eyes. "I'll do the spell," she said through her teeth, clearly irritated with herself.
Daphne clapped her hands. "Goody!" she said, deliberately overdoing her enthusiasm.
Granger pursed her lips at Daphne's reaction. Daphne grinned.
"I'm warning you, though, it's only temporary," Granger warned.
"Define temporary," Daphne said, folding her arms.
"Two hours," Granger replied, her mouth twitching.
Daphne was shocked. Two hours?! What could she do within two hours! Nothing, that's what. "You're kidding me, right?" she asked.
"Hardly," Granger replied.
Daphne sighed. Well, if that was all she was going to get, then so be it. "Bring it on," she said dryly.
Granger half-smiled. "Before I begin," she said – Daphne rolled her eyes. Won't the woman hurry up? – "What do you plan on doing?"
Daphne narrowed her eyes. Damn this girl's curiosity. "I don't think that's any of your business, Granger," she replied.
Granger's ears went visibly red. "Sorry. Right," she said jerkily. "Okay, let's do this," she muttered, taking her wand out, pointing it at Daphne. Daphne straightened, preparing herself for the spell. What she was expecting to feel, Merlin knows. Pain? That shouldn't happen, no. Tingly sensations? Possible.
She heard Granger murmur something, staring intently at Daphne. She flicked her wand in a complicated motion, and then lowered it. "Done," she announced.
Daphne blinked. "Done?" she asked. She hadn't felt any tingly sensations.
"Done," Granger repeated, nodding. "And you only have two hours, which started a few seconds ago."
Daphne jumped. "Right! So I won't feel sleepy at all?"
"Positive," Granger said, nodding again, with a smile on her face. "And please be back before your two hours are up – I don't know what'll happen if you fall off to sleep in the forest."
Daphne barely acknowledged this as she raced to the door and out. She heard Granger yell behind her, "You're welcome!"
Daphne ignored it. Was she supposed to display her not-so-perfect manners all the time? Was she supposed to throw gratitude at people's faces all the time? How tedious. She raced as fast as her (incredibly short) legs could carry her. She went down a different path so as to bypass the moody, emo centaurs. She waved her wand in front of her, so that the branches and twigs snapped out of her way. She couldn't afford to have any scratches on her body. The trees looked so unbelievably tall that Daphne felt like ... well, a dwarf. About twenty minutes later (Shit! Just over one-and-a-half hours left!), she was out of the forest. She carried on sprinting towards the castle, and about another ten minutes later, he gasped out the password to the Slytherin dormitories.
"Greengrass!"
"Daphne!"
Yes, she did have friends. She grinned at them. "How're you all doing?" A couple of them had come to her, and were kneeling on their knees to stay on her level. They all exchanged pleasantries. After a while, when an awkward silence filled the air, Daphne looked around the Common Room. Not many people were there. A few lounged on the sofas, a few were making out with their better halves ... same old, same old. Daphne swung her head back to look at her friends. "Where's Blaise?" Her heart skipped a beat when she spoke his name. Yes, his effect of her was that powerful.
They looked at each other, seeing right through her. She tried to maintain a blank expression. When their mumbled replies of "Head Tower" came, Daphne muttered a quick goodbye and sprinted out of the Slytherin Common Room. Where was the Head Tower again? She glanced at her watch. Shit! One hour and a bit left! She based her direction on instinct, dashing up staircases, her legs complaining.
Good thing she based it on instinct. She came to a stop outside a portrait of a unicorn, basking in the sunlight. It looked over at her, its eyes questioning. "Look," Daphne said, panting. "I don't have the password, but could you just let me in?"
Wait. Did the unicorn just roll its eyes? Daphne blinked. "Please," she practically begged, looking up at the unicorn. Maybe because she was really tiny it didn't think much of her. Stupid unicorn. She drew herself up to her full height, and said in what she thought was a calm voice. "Look, you daft unicorn, it is important that I get in there this instant. If I don't..." she trailed off, trying to come up with a good enough threat. "...I'll take this knife I have here in my pocket and-"
The portrait door swung open, and she grinned to herself. Her threat must have worked, then! Her grin faded when she saw who was standing behind the portrait. So it wasn't because of her that the unicorn opened the bloody portrait for; it was because of...him. Her heart skipped another beat, and she felt her face get red.
"Hey, Blaise," she lifted her head to look at him, and tried to compose her face. How do you get rid of eyes that were shining with love? Enough of that, Daphne scolded herself, forcing herself to pull it together. "How's it going?" she asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.
Blaise bent down. "I'm okay, Daphne," he replied, smiling a little. Wow, Daphne thought, admiring his white teeth. His smile wavered. "Are you okay? Your cheeks are kind of red." His hand reached out as if to touch her cheek, but then stopped.
Daphne gulped, cursing her stupid body. She shrugged. "I was, you know, running real fast," she said, and then, just to emphasize her point, she placed a hand on her side. "I've also got a stitch, you know," she lied.
His eyes widened. "Why were you racing?" he asked, obviously concerned. "Is something wrong?"
Daphne cursed herself. What was it she heard Granger mumble in her sleep? Out of the pan and into the fire? Or something. It sounded right. "Er..." Daphne said intelligently, searching for an answer. She spotted a head of bold, blonde hair behind Blaise. "I came to speak to Malfoy."
Blaise smiled. Ah, those teeth. "Well, come on in, then," he said, and bent down to ruffle her hair. Daphne froze at the contact. His hand was so warm! But wait ... did he just ... ruffle her hair? Wasn't that a sort of brotherly action? She frowned, walking passed Blaise. She tried to suppress the violent shudder that seemed to race through her body as she felt the heat radiating off him.
"Are you cold?" came Blaise's voice from behind her. She gritted her teeth. So now he was observant? Playing big bloody brother? She ignored him, and instead took in the view around her. Hmmm, not too bad, she thought, admiring the Common Room. These heads sure had a lot of privileges. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when she noticed the mini-kitchen. You have got to be shitting me, she thought, shocked. They had a mini-library, too – not that she cared. Finally, she stopped beside Malfoy who was reading.
"Merlin, don't you ever stop?" Daphne said, cruising passed him, and scrambling up the couch he was sitting on. She climbed onto it, coming to a stop next to his thigh. She sat cross-legged on the seat, and fingered a cushion. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Blaise sit on the couch opposite. She ignored him. Stupid "brotherliness" of his.
"Gee, Greengrass, how lovely of you to stop by," Malfoy muttered sarcastically, though a little smile lifted the corners of his lips up.
Daphne held a hand to her chest. "Whoa! Was that a ... dare I say it... a smile?" she asked, pretending to be in shock. Though, half of her was shocked. Malfoy? Smile?
Malfoy rolled his eyes, muttering, "Shut it." He returned his attention back to the book.
Daphne glanced at the cover, and nearly threw up. He was reading a bloody textbook – and it was a Saturday evening! "Oh, please, Malfoy," Daphne scoffed. "Muggle Studies? Ugh."
Before Malfoy could even respond, Blaise interjected. "Why do you call him by his surname?" he asked Daphne curiously. Daphne turned to look at him, and was momentarily lost in his toffee-coloured eyes.
"Sorry, what?" she asked, once she came out of her stupor.
Blaise leaned forward. Malfoy was also looking at him. "I asked why you call him by his surname."
Daphne turned to look at Malfoy and then looked back at Blaise. She pointed to Draco, saying, "He also calls me by my surname."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I call everybody by their surname," he said, sighing. He resumed with his reading.
"Yeah, but so do I," Daphne said.
Blaise looked at her. "That's not entirely true," he said, his lips twitching.
Daphne tilted her head. "Meaning?"
She saw him exchange a look with Malfoy. Were they sharing a private joke about her? "Meaning?" she repeated, sounding irritated. Why did she always have to repeat herself?
She turned to look at Malfoy. It looked as if he was laughing. "Well, you call my mate here by his first name."
Daphne felt the blood rush to her ears. "Y-yes, well, that's ... different," she stammered, glancing at the centre table, then at the mini-kitchen – anywhere but at the boys.
"How so?" she heard Blaise ask. Was he smiling? The nerve of him.
She turned to glare at him. The git was smiling. "Do you want me to call you 'Zabini' then?" she asked, feeling really angry.
Next to her, Malfoy flipped over a page, humming a tune softly. "Would you quit humming, Malfoy?!" she practically screeched at him.
"You've got a problem with me humming, Greengrass?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yes!" she yelled. "It's extremely annoying and very out of character!"
Blaise laughed softly. She whirled around to face him. "Find something funny?" she snarled.
"No!" Blaise said, recovering. "It's just ... there you went again with your calling the other by their surname!"
Daphne gritted her teeth. "Fine, Zabini. Are you feeling left out?"
Blaise – ahem, Zabini – held up his hands in mock-surrender. "No, no," he said, then hesitated. "Why can't we just call each other by our first names? I mean, there's no point in the whole calling-each-other-by-our-surname thing anyway."
Daphne slammed her hand down on the couch. "Yes, there is," she growled. "It shows emotional attachment when we call each other by our first names!"
Draco laughed softly next to her. She was about to say something mean to him, when Blaise caught her attention by speaking.
"So you're saying that you're emotionally attached to me?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Daphne's throat went dry. Shit. She had just constructed her own trap. "That's not what I said-" she said, her face feeling flushed.
Blaise folded his arms over his chest, and Daphne noticed how his biceps bulged. He grinned wickedly. "No, Daphne, dear, that's exactly what you said."
Daphne grasped at loose straws. "Aha!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. "You used my first name! So according to my theory, you're emotionally attached to me!" She was stretching it, she knew. It was untrue, she knew, yet her heart felt as if it was on fire.
Blaise leaned forward and whispered, "So what if I am emotionally attached to you?"
Malfoy laughed, and Daphne felt immediately humiliated. There Blaise went again, with his brotherly affection. He was damn mocking her. Stupid idiot.
She rounded on Malfoy, desperate to take the attention away from herself for once. "Granger likes you!" she blurted.
That shut him up nicely. His book dropped out of his hands – Daphne was intrigued by this little action of his. She looked pointedly at the book, but he ignored it. "What-" his voice sounded scratchy. He cleared his throat. "What did you say?"
Daphne felt triumphant. "You heard me," she said, smirking.
-
Draco attempted to compose his face. He tried to clear the shock off his face, but he still felt it. He knew that there were dozens of girls in this school who was after him – in fact, as of late, his fan club had grown significantly due to his new physique. But this news about Granger ... well, that was something else entirely, wasn't it? His mouth felt dry.
He leaned back into the couch, trying to appear cool. "How would you of all people know?" he scoffed. It was true, how would she of all people know? As far as he knew, she hadn't ever come into interaction with Granger.
"She told me," Greengrass said smugly, looking as if she was thoroughly enjoying herself.
Okay, so maybe they did interact with each other.
Still trying to suss her out, he fired another question, "Since when do you hang out with Granger?"
"She's living in our house, Malfoy," Greengrass stated, rolling her eyes.
Draco blinked. "Your...house?" He looked up at Blaise, but he also looked just as confused.
Greengrass threw her hands up into the air. "Yes! I'm one of the dwarfs, remember? So we all live in this really lame cottage somewhere in the middle of the Forbidden Forest-"
"The Forbidden Forest?" Draco interjected, hoping that he had heard incorrectly.
Greengrass rolled her eyes. "That's what I said."
Draco looked at Blaise again. Blaise shrugged, and Draco turned back to face Greengrass. "But that's dangerous, Greengrass!"
"And all of a sudden you care for a bunch of dwarfs, is it?" Daphne muttered sarcastically.
"I thought you said Granger was with you," Draco said, frowning.
"She is, Malfoy. She's Snow White, remember?"
Of course he remembered; how could he forget something like that?
He wanted to ask Greengrass something else, but tried to figure out a different way of asking it "Where are all the other dwarfs? At the cottage?"
"Pfft," Greengrass said. "Which losers would spend their time doing nothing on a Saturday?" She looked at them. "Except you two. No, Malfoy, they've all gone out for the day." She looked down at her nails.
Draco's thoughts raced. Which meant that Granger was alone! In a cottage in the bloody Forbidden Forest! He opened his mouth to ask about her, when Greengrass flashed him a look. "What's with all the bloody questions?" she fumed. "Did you not hear what I just said? Granger likes you," she stressed the last part.
Draco shifted in his seat. "Yes, I heard you," he said, looking her straight in the eye.
"Then?" Greengrass pressed.
Draco began tapping his book. "Then what, Greengrass?" What was the girl playing at?
"What are you going to do about it?"
Draco shrugged. "Nothing," he said, trying to sound unconcerned.
"Nothing?" Greengrass repeated, incredulous.
Draco shrugged again. "Yes, Greengrass. She is only attracted to me because of this fairytale," he said, trying to convince both himself and Greengrass. Honestly, had there been no fairytale at all, Granger wouldn't ever be attracted to him. There was nothing about him – apart from his looks – to be attracted to. And seeing that she had seen him looking absolutely disgraceful before he got all these muscles and good looks, she was probably turned off. The fairytale. That's what it all centred on.
Greengrass leaned forward, pressing her hands into the couch. "But what if it surpasses the fairytale, Malfoy?" she asked in a whisper.
"Speak up – I can't hear you," complained Blaise.
Draco and Greengrass both ignored Blaise.
"How do you mean, Greengrass?" Draco asked, frowning.
"I mean," she continued in a whisper, "what if her feelings are genuine?"
"What if they're not?" Draco immediately countered.
"But what if they are?" she argued in her normal voice.
"What if they're—"
"—Look," she said, cutting across his retort, "just test it."
Draco looked at her as if she'd gone mad. "Are you feeling okay, Greengrass?"
She shook her head quickly. "Just –" and then she yawned.
"Just?" Draco asked.
She yawned again. She looked at her watch. "Shit." Her eyes began to close slowly, and she shook her head violently.
Draco looked at her, surprised. What on earth was happening? "Greengrass, what were you saying? Just...?"
She looked at him, and opened her mouth, before closing her eyes and dropping forward into his lap. Draco looked up at Blaise, alarmed. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, his voice a whisper. Maybe she had been poisoned! He tried to edge away from her body, but seeing that her head was right on top of his legs, he couldn't do anything.
Blaise was out of his seat in a flash, and next to Draco. He looked at Greengrass, and then tilted his head, confused.
"What is it?" asked Draco, who – from his position – couldn't see her face.
Blaise looked up. "She's sleeping," he said, sounding astonished.
"Sleeping," Draco repeated.
"Yeah, I can even hear her snores," Blaise said, looking at her again.
"Yes, let's all do an observation and tabulate the data while the girl sleeps on my lap," Draco commented dryly.
"Sorry, mate. Here—" Blaise picked her up and, as if he was carrying a child, cradled her to his chest. Draco raised his eyebrow. Blaise didn't even notice.
"Where should I leave her?"
Draco flicked his wand at the couch Blaise had been sitting on, and a moment later it had been transfigured into a dwarf-sized bed. He gestured toward the bed silently, and watched in amusement as Blaise walked over slowly, and gently laid her down on the bed. He turned to face Draco, his expression sombre. "Do you have any bedding?" he asked.
Draco, not taking his eyes off Blaise, waved his wand, and his extra blanket zoomed into the Common Room. Blaise niftily caught it, and he opened the blanket and slowly placed it over Greengrass, tucking in the edges.
Draco looked pointedly at Blaise when the latter came to sit next to him on the couch.
"What?" Blaise asked, looking away.
"Come off it, Blaise," Draco said, grinning.
"What?" Blaise asked again, looking at the sleeping Greengrass.
"You like her," Draco said, prodding Blaise with the end of his wand.
Blaise sighed, turning his attention away from her and on to Draco. "I know," he sighed.
"You're not going to even deny it?" Draco asked, surprised.
Blaise shrugged. "Where's the point, man?" he asked sounding sad.
Draco looked at his friend. The boy looked so downcast. He had gone back to staring at Greengrass. "She likes you, too, you know," Draco offered.
Blaise whipped his head around. "Really?" he grinned.
"It's obvious," Draco said quietly. Merlin, some people could be so oblivious.
Blaise leaned back into the couch, exhaling loudly. He placed his hands at the back of his head, as he stared up at the ceiling. "I hope you're right, man," he said quietly.
"When am I not right?" Draco laughed.
They both fell into a comfortable silence, and Greengrass's snores gradually filled the room. Draco took out his book to read, but didn't get around to reading it. He stared listlessly at the page before him, thinking. Sometimes he envied Blaise. Not for all the girls he managed to get – Draco got a lot of attention as well – but it was the way in which he handled those girls. He could do it so effortlessly, whereas for Draco, he had to physically restrain himself not to cringe.
Before, it had been easy. But after his parent's arrest, he just changed. Even with Blaise's casual friends – like Parkinson – he could effortlessly handle her. Blaise and Parkinson were good friends, he knew that. Draco reflected on what had just occurred: the way in which Blaise had touched Daphne...as if she was a fragile doll. He must have genuinely liked her, then. But more over, Blaise could express his emotions.
Expressing emotions wasn't bad, now that Draco looked at it. If he had to think back to how many emotions he used to conceal, showing people only a blank mask. Where was the point? Granger had been right, all those nights ago. Concealing emotion, no matter how weak or powerful it was, could only lead to self-destruction. Draco was now letting go. It was difficult. But all self-healing processes were trying, weren't they? Maybe he'd try to imitate Blaise, for now. He had forgotten how he, Draco, used to do it. Yes, he'd mimic Blaise. Just a bit. Then, the next time when he saw Granger –
"Draco?" Blaise asked, cutting across Draco's thoughts.
Draco snapped his attention to Blaise who was still staring up at the ceiling. "Hm?" Draco replied.
"How do you honestly feel about Granger?" Blaise asked, his head rolling to the side to look at Draco.
"I thought you wanted to call people by their first names?" Draco asked, deflecting Blaise's question.
Blaise rolled his eyes. "Fine. How do you honestly feel about Hermione?"
Her name sounded weird like that. "Hermione," he said, trying it out. "Hermione," he repeated. "Hermione...Hermione," he said, trying out different variations. He was surprised to see how easily it rolled off his tongue. "Hermione," he said once more, normally.
"If you're quite done," Blaise said, smirking.
Draco had almost forgotten that Blaise was there. He cleared his throat. "I was trying out the first-name thing," he said defensively. He ran a hand through his hair. What had just happened?
"That doesn't answer my question, Draco," he commented.
"Which question?" Draco asked, playing innocent.
"You just want to hear her name again, isn't?" Blaise asked teasingly.
Draco rolled his eyes. "If I did – which I don't – I would've said it myself – which I won't," Draco said slowly, making sure that Blaise got the message loud and clearly.
"You will and you won't, you do and you don't," Blaise quipped irritatingly.
"Merlin knows what you're going on about," Draco muttered, turning to act as if he was reading. Truth was he couldn't read. He had too much on his mind.
"Why are you avoiding my question? Don't even think about asking which question I'm talking about," Blaise added threateningly when he saw Draco's mouth pop open.
Draco waved a hand as if clearing those words that hung there in front of them out of the way. "I was just going to say that it's you that keeps changing it," Draco said.
Blaise leaned back to have a better look at Draco. "Oh really? Just now you were acting as if you didn't know which question I was talking about," he smirked.
"We're talking about insignificant things now," Draco said impatiently, attempting to regain his previous level of concentration – he had actually come to quite an interesting chapter in the Muggle Studies textbook.
"Fine, I'll ask again: how do you honestly feel about Gran – I beg your pardon, Hermione?" Blaise asked pleasantly.
"Why did you place emphasis on the word 'honestly'?" Draco asked, noticing it immediately.
Blaise heaved a frustrated sigh. "Draco, I'm going to—"
Draco held up his hands. "Okay, okay, I'll answer it."
Silence.
"I'm waiting," Blaise said.
"Merlin, I feel nothing for her, Blaise!" Draco hissed. This, in itself, was a lie.
"You're lying," Blaise accused, narrowing his eyes.
"How do you even know that?" Draco asked, feeling violated. It was getting really annoying these days when people saw right through him. Was this a skill or something?
"Your one eye is twitching," Blaise stated, "like it usually does when you're lying."
"You should be in MI6 with observant skills like that," Draco said sarcastically.
Blaise stared blankly at him. "I'm sorry, the what?"
Draco sighed. "MI6 is a British spying agency. Like detectives. We're going to be learning more about them later in Muggle Studies—"
"I don't care who they are, Draco. I don't do Muggle-speak," Blaise muttered, rolling his eyes. "You're missing the point."
"What point?" Draco asked, again trying to play innocent.
"That you're damn lying, Draco!" Blaise said, aggravated.
"Right, right," Draco said softly. He looked Blaise squarely in the eye. "You want the truth, right?"
Draco could practically hear Blaise breathing in and out through his nose. "No, Draco. I would really appreciate it if you continue to lie to me," he said, lacing his words with mild scorn.
Draco disregarded Blaise's comment. As Draco's closest male friend, Blaise deserved the truth. "Blaise," he started, and then stopped. How should he begin? "Granger ..."
"First name," Blaise reminded him.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Hermione then," her name flew so effortlessly out of his mouth. "She has helped me in more ways you could imagine."
Blaise stopped smiling. "Helped you? How?"
"I'm getting to that," Draco said, trying to not sound too impatient, but he really hated it when people cut across him. "Before, it felt as if I was in this...dark cave or something. And ... as if I was living with bats...or something." Blaise looked thoroughly puzzled. "No, wait, you'll understand in a minute," Draco said, reassuring Blaise. "And Granger... she was like this...fire." Blaise's eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline. "Like the fire I couldn't light, you know? And she sort of made my life a brighter place. And yes, I know that sounds like a terrible cliché, but that's really what it felt like. She just walked in, and drove all those bats away."
"Uh huh," Blaise said.
"What?" Draco said, coming out of his memories.
"What, exactly, do these bats represent?"
Draco smiled a small smile. "All the bad things, Blaise. All the bad things," he said softly.
"Ah," Blaise said.
"And over time, I healed. I'm still healing," Draco added, looking meaningfully at Blaise. "She just brought out a mirror and made me look at myself – made me look into myself."
"Can mirrors do that?"Blaise asked, looking at Draco with interest.
Draco shook his head, sighing. "No, Blaise, I'm talking figuratively," Draco said slowly, as if speaking to an academically challenged boy.
Blaise nodded slowly. "Ah."
"She made me realize a lot of things actually. It's how I came back to Quidditch, actually."
Now Blaise was genuinely intrigued. "Really? I must meet this girl, man."
Draco smiled. "She's ... indescribable, Blaise. She's different, you know?"
Blaise looked over at Greengrass. "Yeah, I know," he murmured.
Silence ensued, and Draco returned to his thoughts and memories. The only thing he could see really was—
"But you still haven't told me yet," Blaise said, "about your feelings for her."
Draco laughed. He closed his eyes briefly and seeing the image again, he opened them. "Blaise, I don't see her as anything else other than a friend," he said quietly.
Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Your eye isn't even twitching this time," he said, sounding almost disappointed.
Draco laughed again. "That's because I'm not lying, Blaise!"
Blaise let out a humph. "So it's because of her you laugh and smile so much these days?"
Draco hesitated. Was it? "I...don't know, actually. I'm not really conscious of what I do."
Blaise humphed again. "Mate, you just speak so...peacefully about her. I mean, you get this look in your eyes—"
Draco laughed. "Are you reading Parkinson's romance novels again, Blaise?"
"No!" Blaise cried. "And use first names."
"We're just friends, Blaise," Draco said, smiling, ignoring the 'first names' comment. He loved being friends with Gran- Hermione. Their friendship made his cave brighter.
Blaise sighed, looking glum.
"Now what's wrong? I've answered all your questions, haven't I?"
"Yeah, but," Blaise said, "I just thought it would be ace if, you know, we both had a partner."
Draco felt his forehead crinkle. "Meaning?"
Blaise looked over at Greengrass again. He sighed and then looked back at Draco. "Well, mate, I'm going to ask Daphne out tomorrow, first chance I get."
"Good for you," Draco said good-naturedly.
"Yeah, but," Blaise said, shrugging, "I thought that if you had to ask Hermione out, we could all double-date, ya know?"
Draco shook his head. "Blaise, even if I was romantically interested in Gran- I mean, Hermione," Draco corrected himself when he saw Blaise about to cut in, "I wouldn't ask her out."
Blaise looked shocked. "What? I'm shocked."
"I'd have to gauge whether she likes me, too, before I make myself look like a fool in front of her."
"But Daphne just said that Hermione does like you!" Blaise said, practically yelling. Damn these Italians and their emotions. Draco made a shushing gesture, pointing at Greengrass. "Oh, right," Blaise whispered, glancing guiltily back at Greengrass. He turned back to Draco. "But Daphne just said that Hermione does like you!" he repeated in a whisper.
"It's because of the fairytale, Blaise," Draco said, returning to his book.
"Then why don't you feel anything?" Blaise accused. "I thought that Prince Charming and Snow White shared a mutual attraction."
"My part only comes in later, Blaise," Draco said without looking up from his book. "Snow White falls in love with the prince first. She admires him from afar. Only at the end does the prince realize his love for her."
"Either way, you're going to be attracted to her," Blaise argued.
"Which is why McGonagall is helping out so that the ending doesn't happen..." Draco trailed off, the wheels in his mind spinning. He snapped the book shut with such a loud snap that it startled Blaise. Draco jumped up from his seat. "Shit!" He exclaimed.
Blaise made a shushing gesture pointing at Greengrass. Draco ignored him. He grabbed Blaise by his robes pulling him up. "Hey! What'd I do?" he asked. "You're pulling out all my good hairs, Draco," he complained.
"Don't you bloody realize?" Draco hissed.
"Realize what?" Blaise asked, trying to get Draco to release his hold on his shirt (and his chest hairs).
Draco pushed Blaise away from him, gathering a few items – his cloak, his wand, etc – saying, "Didn't you hear what Greengrass said – I don't care about first names, Blaise! –" Blaise shut his mouth. "-she said that all the dwarfs are gone! And that's the exact same thing that happened in the story! All the dwarfs left and Snow White was left all alone," Draco was running around the room, double-checking to see if he left anything behind. "And that's when the wicked witch attacks! Right now, Hermione is all alone. Vane could be on her way into the forest at this moment!"
Blaise's mouth dropped open in shock. He hardly even noticed Draco slam the portrait door shut behind him.
-------------------------------------------------------to be continued---------------------------------------------------------
A/N: I really hope you liked that! It was a fun chapter to write, so I hope it's well-received. =) A lot of you asked for a bit of Harry and Draco. So sorry about Harry, but I did bring in Draco – along with Blaise and Daphne – a side romance =)
Playlist for this chapter: well, actually, all of Paramore's songs - the ones on Riot!, All we know is falling, and Brand new eyes
Love you all for reviewing! Seriously, thank you somuch!