Author's Notes: No real notes besides the thanks as usual that I have for everyone who reviewed. I'm glad that I had you guys wondering; I didn't think I would, but it shows that you're interested. This beginning of this chapter is going to be mostly of flashbacks interwoven with what is going on at the moment. I hope no one gets confused. But please tell me if you are.

Disclaimer: No, Harry Potter is not mine. It remains J.K. Rowling's brilliant creation.

Analyze This

"So, Mr. Malfoy, how have you been?"

Draco smirked. "I've had a…tiresome day, but I'm fine."

"Good!" Professor Martin declared. "We shall begin in a few moments; I'd like to wait until Ms. Weasley arrives."

She noticed that Draco's eyes hardened almost imperceptibly. "I know that this session was supposed to just belong to the two of you, but there are some things that I wanted to inform you of – both of you."

Draco listened silently. He was half-reclined on one of the plush leather chairs. It was the second half of Monday lunch, and so he had come to the room that was designated for his and Ginny's meetings. Professor Martin knew that Draco knew the reason for Ginny's absence, but she also knew that he wouldn't tell her unless she asked.

"But it is apparent that Ginny isn't here. She has already missed" – she looked at the clock – "seventeen minutes of the session. Do you know where she is?"

Draco looked out the window toward the lake. "The Hospital Wing."

Professor Martin was startled, but the only evidence that she revealed of being so was a slight widening of her eyes.

"Is she all right?"

"Slight Quidditch accident," Draco said sparingly.

The professor leaned back into her chair, relieved. "I wasn't aware that there had been a match." She spared a smile. "I was never fond of Quidditch – too dangerous. I remember students always coming late to classes when I was in school, due to all kinds of mishaps. However, bones are easily fused back together, especially with an expert Healer such as Madam Pomfrey –"

"Weasley won't be coming to this session, Professor," Draco said, nonplussed. "Injuries such as a bruised lung, two cracked ribs, a skull fracture and concussion aren't so easily…patched up."

Professor Martin gasped quietly and touched a hand to her heart. With an inner smirk, Draco noted that the woman was obviously not as stolid as she seemed. "How on earth did this happen?"

The hardened look returned to the blond's eyes and he looked away once more. If one searched, he or she might have been able to find the faintest traces of guilt hidden in its depths, although the owner himself would never admit it – he did not even realize that it was there.

"Bludgers are dangerous things," he answered.

Draco opened the door to the Infirmary with an expression like a thundercloud.

He brought up his hand to knock – he may have been cruel, but he had manners – but on second thought he just opened the door. From what he'd heard, Ginny was the only one in the room, and she was most likely under the influence of a sleeping potion. He strode inside and sat in the chair furthest from her bed. Her face was not visible due to the white curtains pulled around her, but the red of her hair was discernible enough through the translucent hangings.

After a moment or so, Draco checked the hospital clock.

'It's been at least ten minutes that I've been sitting here on the Good Professor's orders,' he thought irritably. The minute hand ticked to the green dot two spaces away from where it had been when he first entered. It had only been two measly minutes.

He slumped angrily in his chair. Then he straightened for two reasons. The first being that he would never slouch, and the second was that the girl behind the curtains had just moaned.

Wondering if he had woken her up, Draco went to pull the cloth aside to see her face. He hesitated for only a second, and then with a resolute frown, allowed himself to lean forward to look at her better.

He had not really seen her at the end of the game the day before: as soon as her body had touched the ground, her brother and friends were at her side – as were Madam Hooch and her head of house.

"No one move her! Just make sure that she's awake!" Hermione ordered the crowd, slightly out of breath from running down the stands. Ron was torn between gathering her up and staying back. Not quite knowing which would afflict her more, he settled for watching her with a sick feeling in his gut.

"Someone call Pomfrey!" Harry shouted; shooting dark looks at the growing crowd of spectators.

"I'll get her!" Lark volunteered, right before running off. Professor McGonagall and the cat-eyed Quidditch instructor went with her.

"Don't shake her!" Hermione shouted, almost having a fit when Ron began to move her, even as gently as he was.

"Well then how in bloody hell am I supposed to keep her awake?!" he shouted back. There was bound to be a full-blown argument, when Ginny interrupted with a strangled moan. Ron's blue eyes widened in fear.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, wringing her hands. "Check her pulse, Harry.". He did.

"She's – she's breathing," he said.

"I should hope so!" Hermione snapped. "How fast or slow?"

"Surprisingly quick," he replied, knowing that it was only out of worry that the Head Girl was being short.

"That's good; we won't have to use a charm on her to keep her awake. I'd rather not use magic without knowing how it would affect her."

"This should never have happened!" Ron insisted. Ginny was extremely pale, and had she not moaned he would have thought her dead.

"What were they thinking?" Colin asked emptily, from beside her.

"That they wanted to win," Harry said furiously, his eyes dark.

There was even more pandemonium if possible when Lark came back with the school Healer. Madam Pomfrey bustled toward Ginny, her wand waving in the air, lips moving. Ginny's body hovered a bit above the earth and a white stretcher materialized under her.

"I have never been fond of this sport! All this unnecessary violence at high speeds and altitudes! Just look at this lovely girl… Oh, I'll see what I can do… Mr. Weasley, you may back away from your sister now," she prattled on, waving Ron off.

Ginny began to rise higher. "Heavens!" Pomfrey exclaimed.

Hermione gasped, Colin gaped, Lark began to cry, and Ron went whiter than milk.

"She's bleeding…" Harry said grimly. "Look at your arm." Ron did, and all saw a dark red smear against his lighter red Quidditch robes.

"Oh dear… I've got to go immediately." With further flicks of her wand, Ginny floated steadily but swiftly into the castle as thick bandages wrapped around her head.

"We're coming too," said Lark and Colin simultaneously.

"Come on, Ron," Hermione said quietly, taking him gently by the arm. Lark and Colin followed Madam Pomfrey quickly; Harry, Hermione, and Ron not far behind. They halted when they saw Draco loosening his cloak; he had just gotten off his broom.

"Are you happy now?" Ron shouted.

Draco glared at him. "As a matter of fact, no. Your sister all but collapsed on the snitch."

Ron's eyes flashed furiously and his right arm, which was still wet with Ginny's blood, struck out – but Harry pushed it away.

"We don't have time for this! Let's just go see how Ginny is doing. She would want you to be there and not here fighting with him."

Draco smirked. "Yes, yes; do run along – there are patients waiting."

"Please, Ron," Hermione plead. He looked in the direction of the castle; Ginny's hovering body was already gone from sight. His attention flickered back to the Slytherin captain.

"We will finish this later."

"And I look forward to it."

If possible, Ron reddened even more, but said nothing further. He turned and stalked up to the castle; all of his friends following. Draco watched them balefully before making his way to the equipment shed.

Pansy ran up to him, screeching. "Draco! Draco!"

He didn't turn around; maybe she would get the hint.

"Draco!"

Maybe not.

"That Weasley girl caught the snitch."

Draco barely spared her a glance. "That does appear to be the case."

"So?" she asked. "What's going to happen? Who wins?"

He threw open the door to the shed. "I have no idea, Pansy."

Walking in, he deposited his broom carefully on a rack near the back. The rest of his teammates usually shucked their brooms into the shed, but as the proud owner of a Firebolt, Draco did no such thing. He usually kept his broom in the trunk under his bed (like Harry did), but at the moment, all he wanted to do was get out of his robes and take a shower. Some relaxing would not go far amiss either.

Draco began to take off the first layer, and then paused. He eyed Pansy, who stared back boldly.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Do you mind?" he asked.

Pansy shrieked with laughter at a joke only she knew. "Only if you do!"

"I do. Leave." Taking a protesting Pansy by the arm, he escorted her outside.

"We'll talk later – maybe," he added as the last of Pansy disappeared behind the closing door. "Peace at last," he muttered to himself continuing to undress.

The image of Ginny falling through the air came to him unbidden, and he muttered to himself in hopes of thinking of a distraction.

Draco brought his mind back to the troublesome present. All day long, the Elder Trio, and the remaining members of the younger one, had sent nasty looks at him.

In Transfiguration, Ron Weasley had brushed past his desk and knocked his bottle of ink onto the floor; the glass shattered, ink flew everywhere. Shooting hexes with his eyes at the redhead, Draco neglected to salvage his belongings.

With a wicked smile, Ron had pointed his wand at the mess on the floor. "Evanesco," he said. The ink and glass disappeared, leaving Draco with nothing to take notes with. Next to Ron, Harry flipped through his textbooks as if nothing was wrong, while Hermione looked nervously as the door, knowing that McGonagall would walk in at any moment.

"Quiet! Quiet! I was tending to a student; I did not intend for you all to engage in conversation. Are there not instructions written on the board? These are basic guidelines that you must commit to memory for your NEWTs, and even before that, an essay on this subject matter is due in seven days." A collective groan sounded. "Or, you could neglect to do the essay, and receive a P or less on your written exam." All went silent.

Draco sat still in his seat, with only one sheet of parchment out, refusing to stoop so low as to ask to borrow ink from his neighbor.

"Much better," the bespectacled professor told them shortly. "I've never known whining to get anyone an extra NEWT."

Draco noticed Hermione nodding profusely, and rolled his eyes in disgust. "Swot," he muttered. Ron stiffened; he must have heard. Draco snickered, pleased that he'd annoyed the redhead in at least one way. Unluckily, Professor McGonagall noticed it.

"Is there something amusing, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Not at all," he said loftily.

"Very well. Is it too beneath you to begin taking notes as I asked?"

"I don't have anything to take notes with." 'Old hag.' To his annoyance, the whole class turned to look at him, except for Ron and Harry who were busy trying to contain their laughter.

"Five points from Slytherin for coming unprepared! A seventh-year forgetting the basics? I shudder to think how you will do on your exams. You will find a way to obtain the notes before class tomorrow. Potter, Weasley, stop laughing, or it will be you next."

The day pretty much continued in the same way, although Ron and Harry did not dare try anything in Potions. After his last class before lunch, Madam Hooch strode up to him in the corridor and said, "I would like the Slytherin team to meet me tonight on the pitch at eight-thirty to discuss yesterday's events. Gryffindor will also be there. Do not be late." Before Draco could get a word in edgewise, she strode away, her cloak billowing behind her.

Once he was in the Great Hall, Draco picked up a sandwich and put it on his plate. He looked down the table at Crabbe and Goyle who were stuffing their faces and at Pansy who was primping and cleared his throat loudly. The table was effectively silenced and Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes at the show of deference the Slytherins offered their 'leader.'

"All Quidditch players meet on the pitch tonight at eight twenty for a meeting about yesterday."

Although the meeting would not start until ten minutes later, Draco knew that if his team showed up earlier they would already seem prepared and composed, unlike the Gryffindors, who he knew would most likely bumble down to the pitch after the meeting ended. It was an intimidation tactic his father taught him that proved useful – one of the few.

Taking a bite from his sandwich, he thought of the last time he'd tried it, and grinned in remembrance: he had used it when he was supposed to meet The Littlest Weasel for the first time in Professor Martin's classroom. Remembering what happened later in that meeting with Ginny, and what was happening now with her, Draco frowned and looked at the Gryffindor table. Catching Ron's eye, he quickly finished the rest of his sandwich and got up from the table.

"Where are you going?" Pansy asked.

"To serve my detention," he answered succinctly. Pansy knew that he did not want to talk about it and let him go.

The objects of Draco's thoughts burst through the door, and let the door slam shut. He made no noise to alert them of his presence; they would know he was there once they saw him.

"Do be quieter, Harry!" Hermione chastised. "You could wake the dead with all the noise you're making!"

The green-eyed boy blinked. "The dead in Hogwarts are already awake."

"You know what I mean!" she snapped. "Ginny needs her rest." Her eyes softened as they followed Ron's back to where his sister was, and Harry gave her a long look.

He was also about to say something, most likely embarrassing, when his eyes turned suddenly curious. Ron was not far from Ginny's bed, but was looking at something that made his tall frame rigid as if he were petrified, and his fists clench repeatedly.

"What's the matter?" he asked, pushing up his glasses warily.

"Why the hell are you here?" Ron demanded in a strangled sort of voice.

Harry and Hermione glanced at each; clearly befuddled.

"Well, you did ask us to come along; we wanted to anyway –" Hermione stumbled.

"Not you!" he snapped, turning his head to look at them. "This…filth…" he answered. Harry and Hermione took a few steps over, where they saw Draco sitting casually in a chair by Ginny's bed.

"You're one to talk," Draco said lazily.

"Get out," Ron ordered, leaving minimal room for complaint.

Draco smiled sardonically. "Make me."

Ron's eye twitched and he advanced. "I'd be glad to."

Draco quickly drew his wand from his robes and pushed his chair behind him. "Go on, then. Show me that you're actually worth something."

"Ron, stop!" Hermione shouted. "Not here!"

"He won't be here when I'm finished with him. He'll be through the wall." Ron was purple with rage. "How dare you even show your pasty face here?! You ordered that attack on her, and didn't even have the decency to see how she was faring afterward."

"Is it my fault that your excuse-for-a-witch sister fell off of her broom?" Draco jeered.

"She came onto this team by using her talent! Not money earned from hit jobs on innocent wizards."

In all the history of their fights, this was the first that Draco ever struck first.

Soon, he was grappling with Ron, wands lying forgotten on the pristine floor, while Hermione tried to shout them down. Draco spied an opening and hauled his fist into Ron's eye. While this did hinder the redhead, Draco's momentarily paused in the after effect, and in that split second Ron slammed Draco's head onto the edge of Ginny's bed. The Sleeping Draught was proving to be one of frightening potency, as Ginny continued to sleep peacefully, removed from the battle just under her.

Harry went to pull them apart although he'd have liked to get a few good shots in as well. After Ron's fist swung near his face, though, he opted not to.

"What was I thinking?" He pointed his wand at Draco. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Draco froze instantly; his handsome face unusually red and eyes bright with fury. Ron was still for a second, his chest heaving, but when he moved, Harry jinxed him also. Had Ron been able to move, he would have asked Harry what he was on about.

"Now isn't the time to play favorites. If I could trust you to not kill Malfoy while he wasn't able to fight back, I'd take the jinx off you."

Picking up a broken chair – whose missing leg was under Ginny's bed – Hermione fixed it quietly. "Reparo." Sitting, she said wearily, "Sorry, Harry. I should've stopped them when they started."

Not bothering to fetch a chair, Harry slumped onto the floor. "Don't blame yourself. I enjoyed watching Malfoy be tossed around as well."

Hermione snorted softly. "That's not quite what I meant. Madam Pomfrey is going to be so disappointed with me," she lamented. "A Head Girl should not be involved in brawls in the Infirmary."

The four seventh-years waited anxiously but silently for the matron to appear and scold them within an inch of their lives. Madam Pomfrey was not one to disappoint, and she ambled into the room, thinking aloud about inventory that she would have to fill, and about checking up on her patient.

"What now?!" she exclaimed on sight of them. "What have you all been doing in my Infirmary?"

Hermione took it upon herself to explain that she, Ron, and Harry had wanted to visit Ginny.

"Malfoy," Hermione gave the owner of the name a dirty look, "must have already been here for some reason, and when Ron saw him, they both lost their tempers. Harry was forced to immobilize them both for everyone's safety."

"But Malfoy threw the first punch." Harry made sure that this was known, and Ron gave his friend a grateful look.

"What does that matter?!" Madam Pomfrey protested. "Both resorted to primal Muggle means to resolve their problems, and I will not have it! Finite Incantatem," she muttered in between admonishments. Draco's body unfroze when the spell was off of him, but the tension was still evident in his movements.

"Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?" the mediwitch asked tersely.

"Peachy," he said sarcastically. His expensive robes were torn at the sleeve and various seams were coming undone. A rapidly forming bruise bloomed on one of his cheekbones and when he ran his hand through his mussed up hair, he winced. Madam Pomfrey, not missing a thing ordered him to her.

Draco glared, but to end any arguments, she informed him that points would have to be taken away for brawling, but she could take more away for refusing to cooperate. He sat in a chair grudgingly and let her inspect his scalp.

"There seems to be some tenderness in this area…" She prodded her finger on a spot that made Draco start reflexively, and then settle into his chair when he noticed Harry smirking at him.

"I'm glad that you found what you were looking for," he bit out in pain.

Where Ron had all but bashed his head into the edge of Ginny's bed, there was a tender, swollen section of skin. It was not enough to keep him in the Hospital Wing overnight, but it was painful enough.

"Stay still."

"There's no need to –" Draco protested.

"To walk around bleeding at the head! Sit still!" After various waves of her wand, the swollen bump eased down to its normal state and the throb began to ebb. "It will still feel tender in some places. Make sure that you don't do anything to split it open again."

"Right. I'll be sure not to slam my head into any metal posts," he muttered. Giving one last sour look at the Trio, and an especially triumphant one at Ron, Draco left the Infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey removed the Full Body-Bind from Ron and he shot up instantly.

"Why did you let him go?! He came in here trying to harass Ginny while she was sick and then started a fight with me –"

"From what it sounds like, Mr. Weasley, you provoked Mr. Malfoy into fighting with you. And while I do not place the blame entirely on you, it does not mean that I will tolerate your tone of voice!" She healed a black eye, and some cuts on his jaw efficiently and sent him on his way, muttering about students who had no respect for the medical institution

Ron continued to fume while he headed for the Gryffindor Tower.

"I still want to know what he thought he was doing there without anyone to supervise him," Ron said to Harry.

"That doesn't matter right now!" Hermione objected. "We didn't even get to ask how Ginny was progressing. I hope that she's doing better…"

Harry nodded his agreement. "She was in rough shape."

Ron remembered what Ginny's injuries were like when she first entered the Wing and boiled even more.

Where the first bludger had hit, there was a vast angry bruise, which spread from her hipbone to a few centimeters under her rib cage. Madam Pomfrey chose to keep Ginny levitated a little above the bed to avoid any more undue pain. Lark had been asked to hold Ginny's hand and squeeze it every few minutes to ensure that she remained at least semi-conscious.

However, when Ron had arrived after his small argument with Draco, he took over. The most immediate injury was the bleeding from Ginny's head. Pomfrey believed that it was a possible skull fracture, and with a complex spell that Ron had never heard of, she repaired the damaged cranium. Seeing the trailing from his sister's trademark Weasley head made Ron feel sick. He'd not felt that way since the Chamber, and even then he had had something to keep him occupied, what with making sure the Lockhart didn't jump out the lavatory window to see if Hogwarts was really a castle.

This time all he could do was squeeze Ginny's hand every few minutes, not even knowing if she felt it.

Even if Ron did not want Draco near Ginny under any circumstances, any respectful and human person would come to see the person that they had injured. Ron was convinced that Draco had only come to the Hospital Wing to do Ginny ill.

Hermione had tried to tell him that it was not necessarily Malfoy's fault that Ginny was hurt, but Harry had been very skeptical.

"So Millicent the Bull simply decided that she wanted to knock Ginny's block off with one of the most advanced and dangerous Quidditch moves? She doesn't even know how to spell Quidditch."

Hermione ceased all protesting after that.

But Ron continued to think about it. When he had seen Draco harassing Ginny in the air, he knew that they had exchanged words. He had been singling Ginny out for a while now, and Ron was determined to get to the bottom of it.

It was a warm night, with birds still crying in the sky, trying to catch up with fellow members of their flock to rest for the night.

Many students were taking advantage of the evening, for Draco saw a few couples trying to sneak out of the castle.

Not surprisingly, Pansy had decided to join him, even though she was not a member of the Quidditch team. He did not spite her for it this time and went to check his watch – 8:18 – he was early.

"It's such a nice night, Draco," Pansy said admiringly, though Draco was unsure if she was admiring the scenery or him.

"I know," he said flatly, looking at the doors for any signs of his teammates. He spotted Millicent and Nathaniel Crawe approaching slowly. Crawe was the Beater who had assisted Millicent with the centered attack. A sixth year of noble bulk, he was a good player with a competent ability to understand strategy.

"It's a shame that it has to be wasted on this."

Draco looked at Pansy who was lowering herself to the ground slowly. She looked at him with a brazen smile playing on her pink lips and then looked away, trying to appear coy and fetching as she arranged her robes around her on the grass. It was easy to like Pansy when she was silent, as she was just then.

She was not an ugly girl at all, although her constant chatter and cruel smile marred her looks. After shifting her robes, Pansy then attended to her hair, Draco still watching her. He did not hate her – they were too alike in many aspects for him to do that. But she was an annoyance to him and the cause of many headaches that he had. Draco could never see himself committing to Pansy, as she expected him to do, for the reason that while she was always there – fetching his cloak, spooning him porridge, fixing his tie (all the while chattering and making rude comments about people around them) – she was never really there in the sense that she was a complete person.

'She's definitely full-blooded in the literal sense,' he thought with a wry grin, reminiscing about the many late nights they had spent together. However, she seemed more of an automaton, programmed for simple tasks such as: make fun of the poor people, flirt with Draco, flip hair, apply beauty charms, and smile. She possessed no ability to understand people in an in depth way, and had absolutely no desire to understand people – not even her dear Drakey.

Draco knew that every person needed someone to understand them; and he knew that he was not a nice person, but that there was more to him than people realized. Looking at Pansy finishing with her hair, he then realized that Pansy did understand that there was more to Draco than met the eye, but that she didn't care.

"Draco."

The captain looked up surprised, but hid it well – during his little inspection of Pansy, the rest of the team had arrived. He looked at his watch – 8:22 and nodded with satisfaction. Then he looked at the person who called his name – Ardin Crawe.

She was a Slytherin sixth-year, but unlike her brother Nathaniel, she had only been to Hogwarts for the past three years; the current one included. Her first years of schooling were spent at – to Draco's hidden envy – Durmstrang. While she was not a born and bred Hogwarts student, she more than made up for it on the Quidditch field. A swift Chaser (who was much smaller than her ape of a brother), Ardin understood the finer points of the game much like her brother. However, unlike Nathaniel, Ardin was a born leader; a fact that came in handy at times when Draco was not in range to ensure that the team was concentrating. However, her leadership skills also caused her to be put into her place on multiple occasions.

"Yes, Ardin."

"I don't see the Gryffs. The meeting should be starting, right?" A few other members of the team also nodded in confusion.

"No," Draco said authoritatively. "Our meeting starts now. The official one with Hooch does not start for another eight minutes."

His smooth voice filled the area around the team members – and Pansy – and they listened attentively.

"Then why are we here?" The Chaser prodded.

Draco gave her a superior look. "For the lazy ones of you with no imagination I will explain. Intimidation does not only happen on the field, it happens in the hallways, in classes, in the Great Hall. The other team will most likely feel self-conscious, as we are already here and ready to begin. Anyway, the Slytherin team will not come creeping into meetings when they are half over and look like a group of imbeciles. Satisfied?"

Ardin crossed her arms defiantly and tossed her dirty blond hair over her shoulder. Draco saw in her sapphire eyes that she wanted to start trouble and waited for the bombshell.

"Not completely. What happened out there yesterday?" she accused. "You were on the snitch and then Potter starting gaining on you. Did Weasley actually steal it from under your nose?"

If there were any teammates who had been having side conversations, or just not paying attention, they were all suddenly miraculously drawn to the topic at hand. But, before he could answer, Madam Hooch came down with Harry, Ron, Troy, and Sebastian. Nevertheless, as the Slytherin team straightened and began to glare, Draco could not help but smirk on realizing that he was right – the whole Gryffindor team was not yet present.

When the two teams were together – but not too close – Madam Hooch glanced at her watch and then at the castle, where the remaining Gryffindor team members could be seen running down the hill to the lakefront where everyone else was.

Draco chuckled cruelly and a few of his teammates did also – Pansy included. Harry and Ron glared at him furiously and he said offhandedly,

"You know the saying, 'take a picture –"

"And then burn the real thing," Ron finished.

"Enough," Madam Hooch ordered. "We are here to discuss a problem, not create one. Now someone who is well informed on yesterday's unfortunate situation please summarize it to all present."

"What happened," said Ron, "was that Malfoy told his lackeys to attack my sister when they knew that they were about to lose. What's happening now is that Ginny is recuperating in the Hospital Wing and hasn't woken up since the game."

"And she probably won't wake for another day or so," Pansy said nastily, screeching at her own joke. Millicent chuckled her appreciation and slapped hands with Nathaniel.

"That is certainly…one side of the story," Hooch said. Then she nodded at Draco to say his piece.

Draco hesitated, cocking his head as if it required much thought, and then said, "All I recall is a lousy, red-headed bombshell being slippery with her broom, falling, and then catching the snitch. She couldn't do her own job properly, so she decided to do mine."

Ron looked murderous. "Your only job is to pretend that you're actually competition against Harry!"

"Thank you for both your statements!" Hooch said loudly. "I have assessed the problem, and the only thing I see fit is that…well, there will have to be a rematch."

There was silence.

"A bloody rematch! You've got to be mad!"

"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley, I'd thank you not to speak to me that way."

"There has to be an alternative," Harry said liberally.

"Yes, there is one," she responded. "An automatic loss for both teams, and no points recorded for either as well." This was greeted with even less enthusiasm from both teams.

"But that will put us below Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw," Harry protested. "We'd never catch up!"

"Those are your two options! I'll give the captains five minutes to decide and then the matter will be settled."

Harry and Draco stepped in front of their respective teams.

"I won't lose without a chance, Malfoy," Harry said. "I want the rematch."

Draco sneered. "Then you'll lose without a doubt. Rematch it is."

The next day, Draco could again be seen exiting the exotic Professor Martin's room and heading for the Hospital Wing.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," he said aloud, opening the door.

On seeing him, Madam Pomfrey greeted, "Hello, again, Mr. Malfoy. How is your head doing?"

"Fine," he said shortly. He straightened his robes and tried to appear as imperial as possible, which was not very hard as he did it every day.

Tidying up the beds around the vast room, the medic answered, "Then why are you here?" She gave him a sly look as if she expected him to be up to no good.

Draco thought about a way he could answer without letting the woman think that he could be bullied or that he actually wanted to be there. "Professor Martin has asked me to spend the end of my lunch periods here to…visit Weasley."

Not pushing it any further, the busy woman said, "Fine. However I will not be here to watch you. I must go to the Potions Master for some ingredients for various medicines."

Clearly uninterested in the woman's excuses or any of her business, Draco shrugged his shoulders.

"While I am gone, I expect that you will behave yourself. This is a place of healing, not a place of war, and I trust that you will show respect for the rules of the Infirmary." Giving a bed a last pat, and checking on Ginny who was still sleeping, Madam Pomfrey walked past Draco and exited, making sure that the door was wide open.

He went to the chair beside her bed, and then moved it away a small amount. After a few minutes, curiosity got the better of him and Draco moved closer to look at the redhead. He was going to do that the previous afternoon, but Harry, Ron and Hermione came and started a fight.

Most of her injuries were not evident anymore, as most of them had been internal, but there was a bandage around Ginny's head, and through the thin hospital gown he could see bandages around her ribs and abdomen.

Ginny was a good deal paler than he remembered – on the couch in for their first session. Her freckles stood out a little more than usual; bundled up and pale, she resembled a pixie. All in all, even with all of her bandages, Ginny looked a great deal better than she had at the end of the game; at least there was no blood.

Not realizing how intent he had been on his examination, Draco started when Ginny made a noise and he scowled; trying to cover up his surprise with annoyance.

"All of this moaning is really getting old," he said aloud, turning to pour some water for himself from a pitcher on a table in back of him.

"Then…I'll try and find another way…to express my pain," a croaky voice from the bed said.

Draco turned back to Ginny to find her eyes blinking repeatedly, now open. She tried to sit up, but gasped in pain and fell back onto the bed. Ginny turned her head stiffly to see if anyone was in the room and her eyes widened when they fell on Draco.

"What are you doing here?"

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- Femme