Harry Potter had spent two days reading these books, and got no sleep. He read part way through 'The Prisoner of Azkaban' and had to take a break, spending the next three days in different beds, none of them, his own to ease his pain. It was only when he dared pick up the book again, did he realize he had to talk to the girl who'd given them to him. Unfortunately, he seemed to have forgotten her name.

Harry picked up the nearest book and whapped his forehead a few times when it hit him. She aid her name was in the first book. He proceeded to pull apart his entire trunk looking for it, only to realize it was in his hand and had been hitting his head.

"Where?" He demanded the book, and flipped through the sorting ceremony-hey! Last sorted! "Blaise Zambini! That was it!" He cried and put everything away quite contentedly. Now what?

"GINNY!" The redhead spun around to see an agitated-looking Harry Potter rumbling down the steps. She sniggered, as he looked rather comical, if still physically attractive, and cute.

"What, Harry?" She asked, still thoroughly amused once he'd reached her, panting. She patted his back lightly in attempts to help breathing.

"Was your brother rambling about a Slytherin in the common room yesterday?" He asked her with great urgency. She blinked a few times, the sighed.

"Yes my friend Blaise was-"He could have kissed her, instead, he took her by the shoulders.

"You're friends with Blaise Zambini?" He asked slowly. Ginny stared at him in a state of confusion as her eyebrows wandered about her forehead in distress.

"Are you okay, Harry?" She asked him gently.

"I'll be marvelous if you can tell me where I might find Blaise Zambini!" He pleaded. Ginny's Eyebrows continued running hurdles.

"Why?" She asked flatly.

"Not important, I just have to talk to her, and please don't ask why I'm still trying to figure that one out!" He rambled. Ginny reached up and patted his head, making Harry look immediately as confused as she felt, doubled by the fact she had no idea what had possessed her to do that or how it seemed to calm him slightly.

"She's usually either roaming the hallways, with or without Draco- er...I mean...Malfoy" She stuttered, shocked that her mentioning of the dreaded Draco Malfoy hadn't dimmed his eagerness. "Or she's contemplating in some empty classroom." She was ready to sit down and do algebra she was so confused as he hugged her tightly for a moment.

"Thank you!" He said, releasing her, and ran off. She partially cursed him for being able to make her all tingly with a simply hug, and finally sat down to half go out of her mind in confusion.

~*~

Draco was waiting patiently around a corner he knew Blaise passed on her nightly roamings, grinning quietly to himself. He'd always known her general route, but had taken it upon himself to memorize where she wandered from the middle of dinner until the early hours of the morning.

Dinner had just let out and the hallway was full of student's voices, laughter and footsteps as Harry Potter spotted Blaise just in time to watch her swept suddenly into the arms of a sliver haired boy. His sworn 'enemy/rival' kissed her as if she where air and he'd been underwater for an hour. The Boy Who Lived hardly realized the pang of jealousy for the shock of seeing the heir of Malfoy and bad boy of Slytherin so deeply engrossed in a girl who'd been kind to him, Harry Potter.

He did however feel a spark of anger under the numb shock when she tossed an arm over his shoulder, though it died as she used that hand to pull him back from her. The spark became extremely paranoid for it's existence as the girl appeared flushed and her eyes rather glazed.

"Hello to you too, Dragon." She smirked, her smirk terrifying a small group of second years greatly. They spun apart like dancers and began walking down the hall, a considerable amount of female students glaring after them, Draco's fans, bedmates, and Pansy Parkinson.

"M'dear." He growled, snaking an arm around her waist only for her to slap it away, Draco pouting exaggeratedly. "Aw, just once?" He whined playfully. Blaise snorted. "Have you so very little humor tonight?" Draco drawled, as if taking a cue from his fellow Slytherin, Harry noted. He also spotted a cat that had been carefully strolling alongside Blaise suddenly jump onto her bag, and climb onto her shoulder.

Harry momentarily lost his concentration on the conversation as the sleek, statue-esq cat stared at him from her shoulder. Something about this cat unnerved him, its shock-green eyes too familiar for comfort, as seeing near-replica of one's own eyes in a cat's face is odd. This, is what he missed.

"Dragon, Dragon you'll put me in trouble with more than half the house who crushes on you." She snorted, her code for 'Getting me noticed is bad when I'm in hiding"

"Blaise dear, I'll sleep with them over the weekend and they'll be fine!" He purred. His code for, 'sorry, I'll have to blackmail them again.'

"Even the guys?" She snorted, breaking out of coded talk. They had both reverted to scary and Slytherin now and Draco glared at her, disturbing a pair of Ravenclaw fourth years.

"Watch your mouth, Blaise." He drawled, code for 'That's not nice!'

"Dragon, you truly are the fool." She said with due coldness, code fore 'Ha ha.' Though again the words were used in both contexts and Draco pulled her close suddenly, both of them looking like ice sculptures, Draco whispering something just audible enough for Blaise to catch. This was where Harry paid attention to them again.

"So Long, Draco." She answered. Draco closed his eyes and they parted, he bowing to kiss her hand before stalking off in the Malfoy manner. Harry realized the crowd was thinning and hung back, casting a silencing spell on his shoes unnoticedly. He followed her down the halls ducking behind things, constantly recasting silencing spells over himself, not letting even the gaze of her strange cat fall on him, when suddenly, she disappeared. Five doors of empty classrooms, two closed, three open and all was silent.

Harry sighed, and removed all of his careful spells. She'd known he was following her. He blamed the creepy cat. His steps were slow and careful, the first closed door was too obvious, the second open door was too bright, the next open door he entered slowly. The last two, only one being an actual door, the real one open the fake one shut.

"Harry Potter." She greeted, spread out across a table that sat shoved into a corner beside the rooms only light, a large window. Her eyes gazed out said window, into the dusk, the overcast sky a deep purple as the sun turned it's back in despair having had no opportunity to spy into their windows.

"Blaise Zambini." He responded, shutting the door, knowing she had already charmed the entire room. She relaxed visibly as the door shut. "I didn't realize you were with Malfoy." He murmured, and bit his tongue, where had that come from?

"Don't call him by his last name, it's his only real bond he has with his father, he loathes it. I'm not 'with him', I promptly turned down his offer of a relationship, it's rather complicated." She said. Harry blinked a few times, she was being awfully open. She turned and looked at him, seeing his obvious distress. "Well I already know more about you than anybody else." Blaise shrugged.

"Yeah." Harry agreed lightly, lowering his gaze. "But you've never told anyone about it?" He added, more a question than a reply.

"I've tried to plead a portion of your case to Dumbledore. I've had to talk with him a lot, being who I am, what I am, who my bastard fucking son of a bitch father is." She suddenly spat the last portion, shocking Harry. Her eyes were darkened, and her cat, that damned cat, appeared equally enraged, but rubbed against her clenched first, which unclenched and stroked him. Harry sat on the table as well, and watched her slowly relax.

"How many Slytherins are like you?" He asked slowly, changing the subject for now.

"How so?"

"Well...not-uh...uhm..." He groped for an unoffending way to put it.

"Vile, sneaky, vicious, evil? Deatheaters?" She suggested, almost amused. Harry shrugged helplessly. "No one's sure anymore. Draco and I are a rarity, no one trusts anyone anymore. We actually take a huge risk by appearing close in public with Draco's background and all. The entire house is putting up a gigantic front, we have to appear all bad in hopes of protecting ourselves. Draco and I are just rather high on the social and antisocial ladders. Everyone knows Draco, but not what side he's on, and nobody knows a thing about me, they all think I just came here from Durmstrang."

"Woah..." Harry breathed.

"So nearly anything I say or do outside of places like this is fake. Same with Draco, and most of the rest of Slytherin. At least not as many people in the school know my name, I just have to make as few ripples in this pond as possible." Blaise murmured.

"Why?"

Blaise stared at him for a long time making him nervous, holding her gaze was as simple as catching a speeding bludger with your feet. She seemed to decide something.

"Because of what I am." She answered softly gazing as something just past his elbow her haunting occuli half-lidded.

"What are you?" Harry asked. "Besides complex." He added lightly, watching a smile flicker across her face faintly.

"A shifter."

~*~

Draco Malfoy was not very happy. Blaise was spending so much time with that young Weasley girl. That dirt poor, muggle-loving, curvy, luscious, doe-eyed angel with perky round, no wait, FUCK-blood traitor, she's a fucking Weasley blood traitor, dammit! He inwardly snarled. What the hell was wrong with him? He was supposed to love Blaise and hate Weasley, no in-between!

He paced in his private room, gripping his hair angrily. He knew he had something with Blaise, being with her made him feel almost innocent again, Gin-WEASLEY just made him feel...tingly when he saw her, and that's all he really did was see her. He couldn't torture what appeared to be an old 'friend' of Blaise's, even if she was a Weasley. Blaise was just lucky only a few Slytherin's had noticed, and he'd passed around that she was tutoring the youngest Weasel because Snape had forced her.

He felt confined suddenly and burst out his door, into the common room scattering first years as he stalked his way to the door and burst out of the Dungeons as well. He stalked through the halls in a distressed and slightly distressing manner, his cloak billowing behind him his face cold and his eyes rattling between confused and enraged. His silvery hair seemed ruffled as the storm-gray of his irises swirled ominously.

It was hard to watch the pair of girls together; it hurt his head. Watching them you could see two complete opposites, dark and bright, light and carefree versus heavily guarded. Blaise was icy and somewhat scary, her eyes, despite her attempts to hide such things, were scarred by the early murder of her innocence; she was war-torn and always had been, even after the first war and before the second had begun. Ginny-WEASLEY I do not call her by her first name even in my head! Weasley is warm and fiery, flamboyant and openly hostile, far less subtle despite her obvious capacity for such, and she seems untouched, her scars far more hidden, but Draco knew they were there. So why did they look exactly alike?

Even physically, Blaise was smallish, elfin rather, pale but long and willowy as well, and yet she could seemingly overflow a deadly air, she was strong, powerful, scary and yet seemingly drowned in an enigma. Ginny Weasley was open, tall and...curvy, a man's dream perhaps, lightly tanned and face dusted sparingly by freckles across her cheeks. She was warm and soft where Blaise was cold and steel, yet she was guarded where Blaise kidded. She was strong but not as much physically as with her emotions, they were strong and wild where Blaise's were hidden and controlled. Fire and Ice, that was what they were, Fire and Ice, so why were they so damn alike?

It drove him mad, they were a contradiction in terms they were complete polar opposites and yet exactly the same! He watched them when he could, trying to figure it out, they spoke different, acted different, the closest he'd come to similarity was in their intellect, they were both sharper than razorblades, though Blaise seemed wiser. Yet that couldn't be all, sense of humor had popped up as well, followed shortly something he couldn't define, and it made him angry. He suddenly spun around and punched his fist through a door. It was as if they had the same soul!

He hissed in pain, pressing his back to a wall and letting himself slide down it to sit on the floor cradling his broken, bleeding fist. The pain, as it always had, ebbed away his anger as the blood flowed, he felt the roaring rage fizzle down from inferno to candle flame, never noticing the red-haired girl opening the window from the outside slipping in, having seen this display.

Her brown eyes were wide, her brow slightly furrowed. Her long wavy red tresses were windswept from her time on the roof, her tattered robes tossed over her shoulder, beneath them merely a pair of black jeans and a low-cut gray bell-sleeved shirt. She fidgeted momentarily with a small pendant on a leather cord at her neck, an Egyptian ankh made of smooth obsidian from her brother Bill. The youngest Weasley took a few cautious, silent steps toward the figure of Draco Malfoy.

"Are you okay? "Draco's mind heard the words, and somehow mistook the voice for familiar. He grunted and nodded slightly. He heard the cool words of a healing spell and felt his bones mend, the blood flow stopping and his flesh stop burning and throbbing. He hissed a sigh of relief.

"That's high level healing for a student..."Draco managed, still not looking up at his healer.

"I just study too much, Blaise does too, but not nearly so much on healing." Ginny said with a faint smile. Draco looked up art her, she had crouched down to speak with him, and she looked...concerned? He unclenched his fist and moved his fingers experimentally, he winced, the muscles were stiffened and his bones ached, but he'd had far worse as punishment by his father. "Something wrong?"

"Life?" He offered, surprised by the slight humor in his voice. She stifled a laugh.

"I meant 'why did you put your fist through a door?'" She asked slightly more serious, standing up. Draco also got to his feet, shaking his head. "Is that an, 'I'm not going to tell you' or just the way some people shake their heads at jokes or...what?"

"Don't wanna talk about it." Draco answered. Ginny nodded lightly, though inwardly she was nervous, and felt as though she were babbling, and only nodded instead of speaking because she was tongue-tied. Draco arched a perfect brow.

"Looking for Blaise?" She asked.

"No, Just venting." He shrugged. "Out on the roof?"

"Yes." She smiled. "It's quite nice."

"I'll have to try it sometime."

"When do you think sometime will be?" She heard herself ask. He appeared to be seriously considering this. Neither quite realized how companionable their silence was.

"We could always call this, Sometime." He mused, as if asking a question. "Or perhaps tomorrow."

"Ah, but tomorrow never comes, I'm afraid." Ginny matched. Draco gave her an appreciative smirk.

"And after every Tomorrow is another Tonight." He countered.

"Perhaps after a few Tomorrows, we can find a Tonight and call it sometime." She dismissed, and began walking toward Gryffindor tower.

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow..." She turned to look at him, Draco Malfoy quoting Macbeth, A muggle story? But he too was walking away. She smiled faintly to herself thinking, perhaps I'll ask him sometime.

A/N: Yo! The Spork here, chapter three is finally up! WHOOT! Please review, pretty please? Pretty, pretty please?