"Morning, Gin," Harry said with a smile, leaning down to steal a kiss on the cheek.
The youngest Weasley accepted with a blush and smiled back. "Morning, Harry."
"How was your first late night patrol with McGonagall?" He sat down and helped himself to eggs and a small mound of bacon.
Ginny frowned. "You shouldn't eat so much o' that, Harry. S'not good for you."
"You sound like mum," Ron said through his own mouthful of bacon. "Let him eat what he wants."
"She's right, Ron," Hermione said. "You shouldn't, either."
"Mione…"
"Don't 'Mione' me. You think I want you having a heart attack at age twenty?"
Harry, Ginny, and Neville, who was sitting close by, started chuckling, along with Dean and Seamus. Hermione scowled but didn't say anything else.
When everyone quieted down, Harry looked at Ginny. "So? How'd it go?"
She cast an eye towards Hermione, who was looking on without the pained expression Ginny expected. She seemed interested.
"It was okay. Not too exciting. We caught Pansy Parkinson tryin' to sneak off somewhere. I think she was meeting somebody; she had all her makeup on over her pajamas. I dunno who, though."
Dean leaned in conspiratorially. "We caught her two nights ago, too, except it was on her way back in. Her hair was all mussed and her lips were swollen. I think I know who she was meeting."
"Who would stupid enough to go an' snog her on the sly?" Ron asked. "I mean, besides the obvious, you'd be riskin' the wrath o' the Death Eaters if you tried to go too far."
Hermione punched him on the arm, but she laughed along with everyone else.
"So who was it?" Ginny asked.
"I think it's Malfoy," Dean said. Only Ginny caught the look that passed between her brother and his two friends. "On my first patrol, we ran into him in the hall. He looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a goblin horde, an' it wasn't his night to be out in the corridors either."
"Where'd he say he was?"
"Said it was Slytherin business, and none of mine."
"More like giving a Slytherin the business," Seamus said, sending him, Dean, and Neville into another bout of laughter.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione chuckled along with them, but they continued to look at one another. The night of Dean's first patrol, Willow had put them through a harrying lesson in combat magic. They needed to make sure Malfoy was more careful in the future.
Watching them, Ginny knew immediately that she had been correct. Something was going on, and Malfoy was a part of it. What the hell could it be?
And why hadn't Harry told her?
"Hey," Willow said, dropping into the seat next to Tara, "how's my girl?"
"Good," Tara said, smiling brightly. She pretended to look around. "Where's your other half?"
"Not funny," Willow's face turned down in a mock pout, "and besides, we're not always together."
"Certainly not," Giles said from a few seats down. He hid his mirth behind a forkful of eggs. "I suppose occasionally one of you must use the rest room."
"You're all just grouchy 'cuz I'm getting good smoochies and you aren't."
They looked at her in horror.
"Okay, channeling Anya. Sorry."
"Please don't do that again," Giles said. "One of them on another continent is more than enough."
"Is she still giving you Xander updates in her letters, Giles?" Tara asked.
"Fortunately, no." He smiled faintly; he was rather touched that Anya trusted him enough to confide to him the details of her life, even if said details were more than a bit disturbing. "They seem to be doing better and she feels no need to describe things in any great detail."
"What about you? Have you fixed things yet?"
"I talked to Jess the other day, i-if that's what you mean," Tara said, looking uncertain. Giles took that conversation turn as his cue to chat Professor Flitwick up about charming his books to open to the last page he had read. "We're back to friends. She wasn't mad."
"Of course not. Why would she be mad? And at you, who could be mad at you – you're only the single nicest person on the planet."
Tara caught the tiny quaver in Willow's voice. To anyone else it would have been imperceptible, but Tara had once earned a graduate degree in Willow Studies. Certain mannerisms she never forgot.
"W-will, what did you do?"
"Huh? Do? Me? Nothing. What are you talking about? Why would I do anything, and to who? Y'know, who would I do things to, these things, that I did not do. I mean, I … darnit." Tara's face had gone neutral and Willow knew she was busted. "Okay, I talked to her."
"A-about what?"
"You, dummy."
"What did you say?"
"Not the – I didn't give away, y'know, IT," she said with a wave of her hands. It's sort of true, she thought, since she already knew that part. "I just pried a little. Just to see what was wrong and-and-and get you guys talking again. I knew you were upset."
"Y-you should've left it alone."
"Why? She wanted to talk with you as much as you did with her. She told you that, right?"
"Yeah," Tara agreed. "Still, it wasn't …"
"My business, I know, but I hate to see you unhappy, and she was unhappy, which made Grey unhappy, which also made me unhappy, so I took a shortcut and pulled the string and BAM!" She smiled. "No more unhappy."
Tara laughed; she did appreciate what Willow had done, especially if her romantic notions stayed between the two of them.
"Bam, huh?"
"Uh huh. All better."
"Dammit, Granger, this is risky as hell!"
"Draco, do be quiet. It's no riskier than you getting caught by Dean Thomas on the way home from one of our sessions. Especially if you don't yell about like an idiot."
"Heard about that, did you?" He leaned back against one of the sinks in Myrtle's bathroom and smirked. Hermione had hurriedly pulled him inside when no one was looking. "I thought it might be a good idea."
"Good idea? Are you insane?"
"Let me guess: Thomas told you that I was snogging Pansy Parkinson in some dark corner, right?"
"Yes, that's exactly it."
"Good. That's what I wanted him to think."
"That's what you … what did you tell Pansy?"
"Not the truth. I'm no fool, Granger. Pansy thinks I've been practicin' some dark rituals at night on Snape's orders. We both needed cover, and we've got it."
"Both needed … who is she with?"
"It's best that you don't know that." Malfoy blanched at the thought; Hermione couldn't imagine who the mystery man might be that would evoke that reaction. "Best that I don't know it either, frankly, though I do."
"How come she needed cover? She's a prefect."
"Despite what you've heard, we're not entirely allowed to come and go at will. Especially in Slytherin house. The Dark Lord likes to be able to call upon his minions at a moment's notice."
"So Snape thinks that you and Pansy are …"
"He knows the truth, but Pansy and I are allowed our 'private' time for her benefit. She doesn't know what he knows."
"That's fairly ingenious, Draco," Hermione said, her voice tinged with awe. "I'm impressed."
"Well, gee, Granger, my week is made." She frowned. "Just know that you lot don't need to keep tabs on me. I'm a Malfoy."
She cocked her head, her eyes probing him thoughtfully. "Not like the others."
"Same as the others," he said, "just a little twisted. Now get going, before someone notices you've gone missing."
"What about you?"
"I'm a Malfoy. I go where I want."
Hermione nodded. "Well, see you tonight, then." She left the room.
Draco decided he would take the opportunity and use the loo before he left, since the bathroom was empty. He glanced around for Myrtle, and, not seeing her, opened his robes. Just as he stepped towards one of the toilets, a voice startled him near to death.
"You do know this is a girl's bathroom, don't you, Malfoy?"
"Huh?" He spun around, hurriedly rezipping his fly. "Norton? What the hell are you doing in here?" Then he realized she had heard his conversation with Hermione and his already white face went ashen.
"I think the question is," the blonde girl said, slipping out from the stall she had been hidden in, "what was that about? You and Granger?" Mel narrowed her eyes, her fury palpable. "You I expect that from. But her … Ron will be devastated."
Draco let out the breath he had been holding. She thought he and Granger … he almost laughed at the crazy insinuation, even though objectively he found Hermione quite fetching. The girl had developed impressively, but Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger? Together? Utterly absurd.
"What do you care? Fancy Weasley, do you?"
"He is somewhat studly, but no. Not in the least. He's on my Quidditch team, and I protect my own."
"So what are you gonna do? Tell him?"
"No." She walked up and leaned into Draco's face. "You'll stop seeing her. As of tonight."
"Or what?"
"Or Slytherin house gets a front row seat to your next consort with the enemy. How would your Dark Lord feel about that?"
Draco's face curled into a sinister grin. "Look who isn't the goody-goody Gryffindor."
"I do what I have to for the win. If that includes ratting out an evil snake to all his snake friends and getting him cut up into little snake parts, well, call it a bonus. I could give a shit about your stupid Slytherin power games."
Draco laughed. "I like that, Norton. You're a right evil bitch. Go ahead. Just so you know, it won't work."
"Why not? Think all your snake pals will stand by you when you're banging the opposition?"
"No." He sneered at her in triumph. "Since I'm not, though, it's a bit of a moot point. Think about it, you twit. Were I banging Granger under Weasley's nose, don't you think I might have stolen a little something right then? Maybe not a quickie, but certainly a passionate embrace. C'mon now, in a bathroom no one uses, middle of the day an' all? Very naughty. Too tempting to resist."
Mel looked him over carefully, then nodded. "I suppose that's true."
"She's ass over teakettle for Weasley anyway, and there's no cheatin' bones in her body. Besides, I'd never go for one o' you Gryff morons."
"Oh really?" She suddenly smiled at him in a way he had never seen before on her.
Seductively.
Draco fought the urge to tug at his collar as she advanced towards him and put a tiny hand on his chest. Norton was a beauty, no doubt about that, and now she was suddenly flaunting it at him? Whether she was a Gryff or not, he was a man. He didn't have the ability to resist a beautiful girl throwing herself at him, and he had no illusions about it.
The seductive smile never wavered as she spoke.
"None of us? A handsome piece like you must've thought about it once or twice." She closed on him and put her mouth to his ear. "I mean, if there was ever a snake who could get into a lion's pants," she whispered, "wouldn't it be you, Draco?"
Stunned, he could only stand stock-still and blink. Whatever perfume she used, and he had never smelled anything like it before, threatened to drive him mad. She didn't wear much, but he was close enough that the scent assaulted his nostrils and he had to restrain the sudden urge to find out if she tasted as good as she smelled.
Mel pulled away and laughed.
"Don't worry. I don't think it would be you. Certainly not if I'm the lion."
She stepped around him, the joy of taunting a Slytherin clearly evident on her face, and walked towards the door. Incensed, he grabbed her and yanked her back against the wall.
"What makes you think you can do that?" His voice was a harsh rasp.
"D-do what?" The haughtiness vanished the minute he touched her. Suddenly she was just a frightened girl, trapped alone with a much larger and very angry man whose best quality was his loyalty to an evil cause.
"Just walk out of here after accusing me of that and then throwing yourself in my face?"
"D-Draco, please…" A tear leaked out of her right eye and dribbled down her chin.
"Please what?"
"Please don't hurt me," she begged.
He released her arm and took a step back. What the hell … she thought he would do that? Then he realized how the situation must have seemed to her, and fought his anger back down.
"Norton … Melissa," he said, his voice silky and more tender than she had ever thought possible, "despite what you might have heard about Malfoys in general and myself in particular, I never take what is not freely given. I didn't mean to give you that impression. I only grabbed you because I can't have you leave without knowing what you'll say to the other Slytherins."
She stood up straighter and wiped the tear from her face.
"What's going on between you and Hermione?"
"I can't tell you that. It has nothing to do with snogging, humping, or any other sort of physical activity that requires or leads to nudity. Granger and I are not getting it on."
She giggled as the tension leaked out of her. "You're not quite what you seem to be, Malfoy."
"Says the girl who threatened to get me killed for cheating on her teammate."
"Killed?"
"Come on, Norton, what did you think they'd do? Put me in rehab? That's for Gryff witches, not Slytherin princes."
She pondered that. "You really can't tell me what's going on?"
"No," he said, a dark look on his face. "It's for your own safety. If you even breathe a word of this meeting to anyone, both Granger and I would be at serious risk. How would that go over with your team? Think Potter and Weasley might be a tad upset?"
She nodded. "I won't say anything about this. I swear. I can't have Ron and Harry hurt. Without them I wouldn't be Quidditch captain. If you demand it, I'll even take a blood oath, but on one condition."
"What?"
"Someday, when it makes no difference, you'll tell me."
"Fine, but I don't need a damn blood oath. I know you keep your word."
"Can I go now?" The haughtiness returned to her face.
"Yeah. I've got to use the loo, anyhow."
She laughed as she walked away. When her hand touched the doorknob, she turned back.
"Malfoy?"
"Yeah?"
"Nice to know you're more than just an evil snake. Even if you are a handsome one."
She left before she heard Draco's mumbled reply.
"Nice to know you're more than just a whiny Gryff, but what the hell was that smell?"
