Disclaimer: Chapter Nine already? And it's still not mine? Well. By golly.

Hello, my lovely dears. I really wanted to post notes to each of you after this chapter, but I thought I'd just putthis upso that it wouldn't take three more days. SO - if you do want me to put a note to you in the next chapter, then tell me in your review, and feel free to ask me any questions or offer any comments that you'd like a response to. You know the drill. Now read, my minions!

Chapter Nine
The Misunderstanding

The third term of Narcissa's Hogwarts career begins very differently than the two terms preceding it. Sirius doesn't sit with her on the train.

She doesn't mind. She knows it should bother her, but it doesn't. She can't bring herself to feel unhappy since she knows that this year, she won't have anything to worry about. This year, Lucius won't be there.

Andromeda sits across from her, a frown infringing upon her pretty face as she looks out the window. She's worried about something, though Narcissa can't figure out what it is.

"Andromeda?"

She jumps. Her face is pale. "Yes?"

"You look … bothered."

Andromeda forces a smile. "I'm not bothered. I don't know why you'd think that."

Narcissa gives her a look. A sisterly look. One that Andromeda usually gives to her, not the other way around. "Probably because you always look like that when you're bothered about something."

She shakes her head, looking out of the window again.

Narcissa doesn't give up. She knows that something is wrong. "Well … if it isn't something … then … is it someone?"

Andromeda's expression suddenly relaxes and she laughs. She's still looking out the window. "Narcissa, I am amazed at how well you can read people sometimes."

Narcissa sits up. "So it is someone! It is, isn't it? Is it a boy?"

Andromeda laughs again. "Yes, it is a boy."

"At school?"

"At school."

"Do I know him?"

Andromeda looks at her. Her eyes are still laughing, but her mouth is not. "No, you don't know him. You probably wouldn't recognize him."

"Can I meet him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I say so."

"That isn't a reason, Andromeda."

"It's reason enough for me."

"Well, I'll probably see him anyway, if he comes to the Common Room often, or sits near us at the table during meals."

She shakes her head. She's looking at Narcissa and, for the first time, it's difficult to tell what she's thinking by her expression. "He doesn't like the Common Room very much, nor the library. He's never in the same place twice, so you probably won't ever see him anywhere."

Narcissa shrugs. "I'll find him."

Andromeda shrugs back. She doesn't even look frightened.

The first Hogsmeade weekend of the year arrives, and Narcissa, Sirius, and about thirty other students are too sick to take part in it. Some sort of illness has infected most of the school.

At about twelve thirty in the afternoon, Narcissa finds that she's extremely hungry. Groaning, she rolls over to get out of bed, misjudges the distance, and topples out of the bed and onto the cold floor. She groans again, realizing that she'll now have a few nasty bruises later on, and she stumbles to get to her feet.

There are only two people sitting in the Common Room when she goes downstairs. One of them is Severus, with his head bent low over a long letter he's most likely been scribbling for hours, and the other is a first year girl sniffling into a pile of tissues by the fire. Narcissa gives her a sympathetic look as she passes, mumbles a hello to Severus, and then trudges out of the Common Room.

She realizes, once she's in the corridor, that she's wrapped in her bed's blanket. She doesn't even remember pulling it over her shoulders. Deciding that she's become delirious from a dire lack of food, she quickens her pace towards the Great Hall and tries to think of a food that sounds appealing to her grumbling stomach. She does not have to ponder this too long before she hears someone sneeze loudly behind her.

She turns. It's Sirius. His nose is red and raw, probably from too much sneezing and nose-blowing, his lips are chapped, his face is pale, and his hair is wild. Nevertheless, he smiles upon seeing his cousin. "You're wrapped in a blanket, you know."

"You look like you've been hit by a train," is her croaky reply.

He salutes her while sneezing again. "And with reassurance like that, I'm sure I'll be feeling better in no time."

Her stomach stops growling. She suddenly feels nauseous.

It must show in her face, because suddenly Sirius looks very uneasy. "You aren't going to … you know … vomit, or anything … are you?"

"I don't know," she says honestly. "I feel terrible."

He shifts from foot to foot. He doesn't look very convinced that she's vomit-free, but nonetheless, he says, "Let's go to my dormitory."

She stares at him. " … Why?"

He shrugs. "I'm bored. And no one's in there – they're all in Hogsmeade."

She sighs. "I don't know. I think I just want to go back to sleep." She pauses. "Or maybe I'll just sleep here. Behind that statue. My dormitory is so far away …"

"And mine is right around the corner. Come on. It'll distract you."

She sighs again, this time in defeat. "Well … fine. But if I get tired, I'm borrowing your bed."

And so away to his dormitory they go. It's quite cold in the Gryffindor Common Room – no one has bothered to light a fire – but Narcissa doesn't notice this. She's too entranced with the Common Room itself. It looks just like her own Common Room, but the red and gold banners that replace the green and silver ones she's accustomed to look like imposters. The red couch seems out of place; the armchairs look silly, and the lions on the banners and walls seem to mock her. She shivers and wraps the blanket more tightly around her shoulders.

Sirius doesn't notice her uneasiness. "Come on," he says, leading her up the dormitory staircase. "The girls' stairs have been charmed so that boys can't go up them, but ours our normal. Apparently we boys can't be trusted." An eye roll. "Personally, I don't think that girls are more trustworthy. You can be pure evil sometimes."

Narcissa raises her eyebrows.

"Not you personally," he corrects himself, grinning. "I simply meant all girl-kind in general."

Her expression relaxes. She grins back. "Yes, well, usually our evilness is all in good fun. It's rare when a girl is evil just for the sake of being evil, you know."

He laughs again. "You seem to be an expert on this topic, Miss Black."

She laughs, too. "I do have two older sisters, Mr. Black. I watch and learn."

His laughing stops abruptly. "That's a very good point."

They're at his dormitory.

"After you," he says, pushing the door open for her.

She steps inside slowly, as though it's forbidden ground. There are five beds in the room, just like in hers, although once again her eyes are overwhelmed by the red and gold draped everywhere. The beds are all made, the room is generally tidy, but it's still obvious that it's inhabited by boys rather than by girls. A few posters sporting scantily-clad, deviously smirking witches decorate the walls, along with several Quidditch posters. There's a broomstick leaning against the wall in one corner, and a pile of what appears to be dirty Quidditch robes in another corner. A few books are stacked on one of the desks, and shoes have been kicked off near one of the beds.

Narcissa cautiously takes a seat on one of the beds, still looking around. "That's James's bed that you're sitting on," Sirius says. "See all the Quidditch stuff around it?"

He's right. The majority of the Quidditch posters in the room are covering the wall above James's bed, and the broomstick is sitting in the corner closest to it. There are also three snitches on the bedside table, along with a magazine titled The Flying Witch that apparently contains naughty pictures dealing with witches, Quidditch, and sexual innuendos.

"That's my bed," Sirius goes on, pointing to the next bed over. He has several pictures of witches decorating his wall, but on his bedside table, Narcissa is surprised to find five very thick books about animals.

"What're those for?" she asks him, pointing at the books.

He glances at them. There's a hint of fear in his eyes for a split second, but it's gone before Narcissa can ponder it. "What? Oh, those? Just a bit of … er … light reading."

She laughs. "Since when do you read for fun?"

He thinks for a moment. "Since … yesterday. It's really good for the brain, you know. And people have been telling me for years that books can be fun. For example – " He goes over to his bedstand, takes the book on the top of the stack, and then climbs onto his desk. "Come here."

She stares at him. "No." A pause."Why?"

"Just do it."

She sighs, relenting. She climbs up onto the desk next to him – still wrapped in her blanket – and watches, curiously, as he opens the window. He leans out as far as he can without slipping through it, then waves over his shoulder for Narcissa to do the same. She does. They both look down below them, and Narcissa sees Severus walking across the grass, book under his arm. He looks like he's walking towards his favorite tree, the one under which he usually reads during the long afternoons.

The smile on Sirius's face is purely satanic. He takes the book, raises it above his head, waits for the perfect moment, and then drops it. It falls cleanly through the air. The thudding sound that it makes when it hits Severus straight on the head makes Narcissa's stomach curl. Her jaw drops.

Sirius pulls her back inside, already laughing himself into hyperventilation. Tears of pure delight are running down his face, and his arms are wrapped tightly around his aching middle, and he says, "Now that, Narcissa, is how books can be fun."

"Why did you do that?" she demands at once. She can feel the heat rising to her face.

Sirius, however, does not stop laughing. In fact, her question only makes him laugh harder. "Because … I … hate …him!" he gasps between his snorts.

She glares at him. "What has he ever done to you?"

He manages to calm himself down a little, but he's still chuckling as he wipes the tears from his eyes. "He was born, that's what."

She slaps him. Hard. There is a deafening silence where his laughter existed only seconds before.

He stares at her with his mouth slightly open in shock. She's still fuming – her cheeks are red, her knuckles white, and her jaw firm and decisive. "He's my friend," she growls, looking positively menacing.

And then he does something she would've never expected him to do. The last thing she ever thought he would do.

He slaps her back.

She gasps at the pain of his blow. He hit her hard – no one has ever hit her before in her life. It's her turn to stare at him, eyes wide, face white, jaw trembling where it once was firm.

He doesn't even look ashamed. He looks resolute.

"Why did you do that?"

"Why did you slap me?"

"I was defending my friend."

He sneers. She hates when he does this. She hates it when his expression is full of hatred. Hate matched by hate. "Funny." His voice is low and dry. "I didn't have a reason."

She arches her eyebrows. "You can't just hit a person without any reason, Sirius. That's what murderers and criminals do. You hit me again, and I'll –"

"You'll what?" he snaps. "What will you do to me? What? Merlin, Narcissa, this is what bothers me about you."

"Excuse me? You slap me and then you have the nerve to say that I bother you? Me?"

He laughs again. A cold laugh. "You think that there's a specific reason behind every single thing. You think that people cleverly calculate each of their actions before they perform them. Well, guess what, they don't. Sometimes people just act, and you have to be ready for that. You can't just sit there being naïve, thinking nothing will ever happen to you."

"You're the one who told me that I should always plan ahead, think before I act, try to –"

"Yeah, that's what people should do, but they don't. People are idiots, Narcissa. Complete idiots."

She stares at him. "If I had known that you would've said all of this after I slapped you, I never would've done it."

He laughs again. It, to her surprise, isn't cold. It's playful. Warm. Funny. His normal laugh. "You amaze me."

She laughs, too. Her face still hurts, but she doesn't notice. "Weren't we just angry at each other?"

"I think so."

"That was tiring."

"I know."

"Do you mind if I take a nap?"

"Be my guest."

"Thank you."

And she falls sound asleep on his bed, still wrapped in her blanket, with him sleeping right next to her, wrapped up in his own blanket.

Three hours later, they hear a voice. Two voices.

"I think there's a girl in there."

"No really, Remus? I thought it was Peter."

"No need to get sarcastic. I was simply trying to make conversation."

"What should we do?"

"What are they doing?"

"Well, it's quite apparent that they're sleeping now, Remus. The question here is: what were they doing?"

"James, what are you suggesting?"

"I think you know what I'm suggesting."

"Stop waggling your eyebrows like that."

"Sorry."

"So do you think we should … I don't know … wake her up?"

"Sure. You do it."

"You do it."

"You do it."

"You do it."

"Shut up, both of you," Sirius groans, rolling over. He accidentally rolls over onto Narcissa, who wakes with a start and sits straight up. She's still groggy and rubs her eyes as she looks around, frowning, irritated that someone's woken her. It takes her a minute to realize that she has an audience. Her eyes widen.

"How long have I been here?"

James and Remus glance at each other, then shrug. "A few hours?" James guesses. "You don't remember?"

Narcissa looks at Sirius. He's already looking at her. "Well," she says, gulping a little, "er – no."

James chuckles. "Well, you'd better get out of here pretty quickly if you don't want to get expelled."

She narrows her eyes. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Sure doesn't look that way," James replies slyly.

Sirius matches Narcissa's glare. "You wouldn't rat on her."

James holds up his hands in defense. "Hey, you know I wouldn't." A pause. "But I think Elroy already has."

Sirius slaps a hand to his face, but Narcissa frowns. "Who's Elroy?"

"Our roommate," the three boys sigh in unison. They don't seem to like him very much. James has a look on his face as if he's smelled something putrid. "He's a bit loony, if you know what I mean. Stubborn as an ass, too. Always does what he wants, whenever he wants, without so much as a thought as to what – "

"What on earth is going on in here?" a new voice demands, startling the four classmates so much that they all gasp.

The stern witch standing in the doorway has her hair drawn back tightly off her face, and her grim mouth is pursed in a thin line. Her eyes are both furious and perplexed as she looks between the students, one by one.

James is the first to speak. "Well … good afternoon, Professor McGonagall! Really lovely to see you, since I, personally, have always had a deep admiration for you and everything that you – "

"Quiet," she says, not looking at him. "You two." She points at Narcissa and Sirius, who are slowly scooting away from each other to opposite sides of the bed. "You're coming with me to see the headmaster."

Narcissa swallows nervously, daring a quick glance at Sirius. He doesn't move. "But professor, we weren't … er … doing anything."

Narcissa blushes. "We weren't, professor. We - we wouldn't!"

McGonagall isn't convinced. She turns on her heel, storms out of the dormitory, and barks, "Follow me!" over her shoulder.

Narcissa and Sirius share a worried glance, untangle themselves from the blankets, and then follow McGonagall out of the room with their heads down in defeat.

"Remember," James taunts quietly after them, "all are innocent until proven guilty! And besides, you two have nothing to be guilty about! And if you do, Sirius, I expect a full and vivid synopsis when you get back!"

Narcissa shoots Sirius a glare as they're walking briskly down the corridor behind McGonagall. "James is really irritating," she hisses.

"At least he's on our side," Sirius retorts defensively.

Narcissa is still glaring. "I don't like him."

"I really don't care."

"Quiet," McGonagall hisses over her shoulder.

When they reach Dumbledore's office, McGonagall mumbles a password that neither cousin can hear, and then she herds them onto the staircase in front of her. They hurry up the stairs quickly, afraid to irk McGonagall by moving too slowly, and then step to one side of Dumbledore's closed door, waiting for McGonagall to let them in. She knocks once, announces herself, and then opens the office door without waiting for the headmaster's response.

He's sitting at his desk rummaging through what appears to three year's worth of junk. There are objects spread out all over his desk – most of which neither Sirius nor Narcissa can identify. Some of them are spinning, others are levitated in mid-air, a few are bouncing sporadically from wall to wall, and all of them are sporting the most random assortment of colours that Narcissa has ever seen.

Dumbledore is in mid-dissection of a square, blue, box-like contraption. He has goggles strapped on over his half-moon spectacles, he has red gloves decorated with little snitches covering his hands, and he's holding a metal tool in each hand – one of them looks like a miniature fork while the other resembles a silver bone. He looks up.

"Yes?" he remarks, tools paused in midair. "May I help you with something, professor?"

"A student of mine came to inform me that these two were engaged in a suspicious situation in Mr. Black's dormitory. I went to see if this student was telling the truth, and I found these two in Mr. Black's dormitory, just as was reported."

Dumbledore's expression doesn't change. "Well … I suppose it's comforting to know that we have honest students at our school."

McGonagall ignores this comment. "They were both asleep in Mr. Black's bed, headmaster."

"Ah." Dumbledore sets down his tools, removes his goggles, and peels his gloves off his hands. He then folds his hands calmly on his desk, directs his gaze to the two students, and –

And Narcissa is startled to see amusement in his eyes. "Well then," he says, as if discussing nothing more than weather patterns, "do you have any evidence, professor, that these two were engaged in suspicious activity as they were sleeping together in Mr. Black's bed?"

Narcissa blushes madly while Sirius suddenly gushes, "We weren't!" After a few seconds, he adds, "Er … Sir."

Dumbledore raises a silvery eyebrow. "Go on." His eyes are almost laughing.

"We were just tired," Sirius explains, gulping. "Really, that's all. I saw her in the corridor and she was wrapped in her blanket – "

"I was cold," Narcissa adds, nodding vigorously as she speaks.

" – yeah, she was cold, and we're both a bit sick, so neither of us were in Hogsmeade – "

" – weren't feeling well enough to go, and all I wanted was a bit of food from the Great Hall, but then my stomach – "

" – and I asked her if she wanted to come see my Common Room and dormitory, since she never had before, and since we were both bored, and had nothing else to do –"

" – and since we were both sick, so it's not like we'd be infecting each other – "

" – and then we were just talking – "

" – and there was the book – "

" – out of the window – "

" – and then he hit me – "

" – only because she hit me first – "

" – got so tired – "

" – just wanted to sleep for a few minutes, really, just a few – "

" – James and Remus, we heard them come in – "

" – but we were just sleeping, that was all – "

" – we're related, so it's not like we'd actually think about – "

" – or even contemplate – "

" – it's not even in the back of our minds – "

" – never once, for a single minute, ever thought about doing – "

" – I just wanted to take a nap – "

" – and so did I! Just a short nap!"

The friends fall silent, panting slightly, cheeks flushed, both very anxious and eager for their story to be believed.

Dumbledore seems to contemplate their explanation for a minute. He glances at McGonagall, who suddenly has a very similar expression to his. He nods slightly at her, then she at him, and then both of them, to the shock of Narcissa and Sirius, begin to chuckle.

"Very well," Dumbledore says, stroking his beard as he chuckles, "very well indeed. You both may go."

McGonagall holds the door open for them, attempting to stifle her laughter with a cough. "I'll see you both in class on Monday."

Once Sirius and Narcissa are safely back in the corridor, and McGonagall has left them, Narcissa spins around to face Sirius. To her surprise, he's laughing.

"And what's so funny to you?" she demands, hands on her hips.

"They actually that we – that you and I – that we – "

Narcissa blushes again, looking at her feet. "That isn't funny. We would never – I mean, we could never – "

The grin slowly drops from Sirius's face. "Well, I know, but I was just saying …"

"I know," says Narcissa, "but really, we couldn't … or … well …"

"Yeah," says Sirius, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. And besides, we're only thirteen. And it's not like we … you know …"

"No," Narcissa agrees, forcing a grin. "No, we definitely don't."

"Right, well, good," Sirius says, nodding.

"Good," Narcissa agrees, nodding back at him.

There is a silence.

"I should go," Narcissa says. "I have to … er … do things."

"Yeah," Sirius agrees, already backing away down the corridor. "Yeah, me too, lots of things."

They say a hasty good bye to each other and then hurry off in their separate directions, completely forgetting that Narcissa's blanket is still on the bed in Sirius's dormitory.

Christmas again, and everyone is at Grimmauld Place. For some reason, the food this year is terrible. Narcissa wonders if someone angered the house-elves while they were cooking.

Bellatrix has moved up to the "adults' table" while Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius, and Regulus are still sequestered at their usual "children's table." Andromeda sets her fork aside, looking grimly at her plate. Sirius, who hasn't been eating for the past twenty minutes, is busy constructing an architecturally-sound replica of Hogwarts with his potatoes. Regulus is sulking, as usual, and stabbing his pudding with his fork. Narcissa is staring at Bellatrix, eyes glazed, imagining all of the ways in which she can decapitate Bellatrix and make it look like an accident.

Andromeda, apparently reaching her very last thread of sanity, lets out an aggravated sigh and motions for the other three to lean in. They lean, she sighs again, and then she hisses, "This is ridiculous! Potatoes are not supposed to crunch!"

Sirius shrugs. "Yeah, but they make for excellent plaster, I must say. Look at the detail I was able to put on this wall!"

"I hate food," Regulus groans, glaring at everyone and everything in the room.

Narcissa says nothing. She's in the middle of forming a clever decapitation scheme involving toothpicks, whipped cream, and a wrench.

Sirius sighs and leans back in his chair. His brother and cousins do the same. They all look at each other, Sirius sighs again, and then he folds his hands neatly on the table and says, "All in favor of sneaking food from the kitchen when none of them are looking, say I."

A unanimous "I" is his response.

There is an unexpected and almost unbearable heat wave in March. Students are dropping left and right like flies. Those that aren't fainting are either irritable, drowsy, delirious, or some dangerous combination of the three.

In the middle of a Transfiguration class one afternoon, Narcissa is too irritated by the heat to be interested in McGonagall's lecture. She's tried staring out the window, but looking at the sun doesn't really make her feel any cooler. She's tried making eye contact with Sirius, but he's busy conspiring about something with James. She's even gone so far as to consider passing a note to Lily Evans, who happens to be sitting next to her, but then she silently scolds herself for even considering it. She would never stoop to such a level, even during days of murderous heat and tedium.

She can't even remember how she ended up sitting next to Lily in this class in the first place. She vaguely recalls Lily sitting herself down on the first day, passing a friendly greeting, and then digging her nose into some book. She is always reading. Narcissa glares at her out of the corner of her eye.

"Miss Evans? Would you care to demonstrate to the class how this spell should be done?"

Narcissa jumps out of her reverie. Lily smiles, nods at the professor, then gets out of her seat and practically skips to the front of the classroom. If it weren't so hot, Narcissa would scowl.

Lily performs the spell perfectly, transfigures a glass into an apple pie, and accepts the class's applause with a blushing smile. Narcissa glances over at James and Sirius.

Both of them are grinning widely at Lily. James is even blushing.

Narcissa quickly turns her head away. Wondering why she suddenly feels so angry, she waits until Lily is back in her chair, then lets her arm stray too far to the side. It hits her inkwell, which falls abruptly onto the notes that Lily has been taking so carefully all throughout class. The notes are ruined.

Lily stares at her.

"Sorry," Narcissa says, feigning a look of utter guilt. "My stupid clumsiness …"

"That's okay," Lily says, looking dolefully at her notes. "They … they weren't very thorough, anyway. I'll just … I'll just reread the lesson tonight."

Narcissa says nothing. She's already staring out of the window again.