Sorry it took a while everyone. Thanks for all the replies; I love 'em!

Chapter 4


It's when I'm weary of considerations…


Then it happened.

Things had been going great for weeks now. My grades were up and I had found a…well, I suppose "friend" would be the correct term, though we never acted any differently towards each other in public. At any rate, I was happier than I usually was.

Until I ran into the Boy Who Lived.

I had seen him in class since I had arranged my little situation with Hermione. But all I had received were dirty looks, which I was accustomed to. Therefore, I thought nothing of it until he grabbed me by the arm in the corridor one day after Advanced Potions and dragged me away from the streamline of students heading up the stone stairs out of the dungeons.

"What do you want, Potter?" I demanded, roughly jerking my arm free of his grasp.

He returned my contemptuous glare. "I want to know what you've been doing with Hermione."

I gazed at him, slightly taken aback. "She didn't tell you," I declared, more to myself than to him.

"Was she supposed to?"

"Relax, Potter, don't get your knickers in a twist." I began straightening the wrinkles he had creased in my robes upon seizing my shoulder. "If she were doing something wrong, she certainly wouldn't be telling you she was going to meet me, now would she? She would make up some lame excuse like taking a walk."

"Fine, then." He took a step back. "You'll have no problem telling me then."

I gave a reluctant sigh. "Not that it's any of your business," I began pointedly, "but we've been studying together."

"Is that what they're calling it nowadays?"

"I don't appreciate that comment, or the tone that accompanies it." I thrust a patronizing index finger in his face. "Not to mention, that it also insults your little friend. You don't trust her much, do you?"

"I trust Hermione," he assured me, crossing his arms across his chest. "It's you I worry about."

"Well, I think Granger can defend herself." I raised my eyebrows in a silent challenge for him to deny it. "Don't you?"

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy."

We both pivoted extremely reluctantly toward the direction of the new voice, though we both knew who it was. Only one person spoke so low and precisely.

Professor Snape clasped his hands together in front of himself and stared us down. "I trust you have another class and another Professor anticipating your attendance?"

"Yes, Sir," Potter agreed, swallowing hard. I knew he and all his little Gryffindor cronies were terrified of my Head of House.

"Then I suggest you both run along."

We both nodded in acquiescence and without another word went our respective ways.


I dropped my books down loudly, not at all surprised when I received a startled jump out of my homework partner.

"Watch it," Hermione scolded, returning to her own parchment, dipping her quill in the jet black ink at her side.

"Had a little visit today," I informed her, plopping down in the seat beside her. Her eyes remained focused on her work. "From one of your little bodyguards."

That seemed to get her attention. She lifted her gaze and turned to me, her curiosity evidently piqued. "Harry?" she guessed. I nodded. She sighed and crossed her arms on the table, burying her face in them. "I knew he was acting peculiar lately," she said, her voice heavily muffled.

"Yeah."

"Sorry about that," she apologized, her head still down, soft curls falling over her elbows. I almost laughed at how distraught she looked.

"I actually wanted to thank you."

She raised her head again and shot me a quizzical look, narrowing her eyes. "What for?"

"You kept your mouth shut, like I asked," I reminded her. "Potter has no clue what we're doing. Well…now he does, but he didn't."

"You told him?"

"You wanted me to let him think the worst? 'Cause believe me," I gestured back and forth between us, indicating whatever our strange relationship was, "this is not the worst we could be doing."

She laughed at that, brushing her hair behind her ear. "And what exactly is the worst we could be doing, Draco?"

I sat back at that, unsure how to answer, put off by the use of my first name and the slow realization that we were now officially flirting.

I broke eye contact and shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "Well, we could be hexing each other into oblivion for example," I replied.

She continued to stare at me as if pondering my change in attitude, then returned to her books, somewhat resigned. "Right," she agreed.

For the remainder of the session, one or both of us would glance at the other through our peripheral vision, attempting to be discreet and usually failing. When she claimed a few hours later that if she didn't leave, she'd be late for dinner with her friends, I watched her gather up her effects, then disappear out of the library doors (a little too quickly, I might add) until I could no longer see her. Then I forcibly shook my head to clear it.

Well. This was a new feeling.


I know, flirtation is weak at this point, but things will start picking up here soon. ;) FEEDBACK!!!