A/N: 316 reviews, wow!

Right, first and foremost, please don't go throwing the rotten tomatoes just yet, I had a really good reason for not updating, I promise!

The LSE (my university) only has one set of exams each year, and our entire grade depends on them. They are bloody hard too, and I really had no option but to lock myself in and study like Hermione on too much coffee, for weeks on end! I'd much rather have been writing this story than revising Game Theory, but – sigh! – such is life!

I am sorry however, for not letting you know beforehand. This chapter was supposed to come out before I went into fanfic hibernation telling you just that, but, well... I didn't manage to finish it on time.

Ernie: You. Did. Stay. Up. Until. Two. In. The. Morning. Finishing. It. Last. Night...

Yes, I did Ernie, thank you. And now, for the thank yous to all my wonderful reviewers. I'll try and keep it short, but there are a lot of you, and you all know by now how much I love to blab. Feel free to skip the thank yous and move on directly to the story. Take it away Ernie!

Ernie: Thank. You. To. CharmingStar.

Err, yeah. Last update was fast. This one wasn't. Sorry! I hope your sociology went ok...

Ernie: Winter. Blaze.

Hehe. You're about to find out exactly who's in Snape's training room...

Ernie: CT. Malone.

Ah... Snape's mysterious sparring partner. All will be revealed in a little while. Patience, my little grasshopper.

Ernie: Anna.

Absolutely. Keeping you and the rest of my reviewers in suspense is one of life's great joys for me.

Ernie: Chantedly

I'm really glad to see you're still around! Don't worry about being too lazy to review. I'm probably lazier than you! Though after my long hiatus, I'm wondering if you really are still around. Hellooo... Anybody out there...?

Ernie: Ori

I like Wyatt-Talia interaction too! I'm not so sure how much of it the storyline will allow, but I'll do my best. Thanks for the Dumbledore compliment, but had I included the Dumbledore scene, it would have meant that Talia would have had to repeat her story for the third time! I thought it might be a little boring.

Ernie: Nexos23.

Err, well, it's not very soon, but you do get to find out who's in the training room...

Ernie: Devlin. Rose.

I'm so flattered by your very astute observations! I rather think that Ginny might be more affected by the mention of Tom Riddle than Voldemort. Voldemort is but a vague menacing figure feared from afar, for her. Tom she has met, become one with. I'm really sorry if I offended/hurt you by not mentioning you in last chapter's credits. I really didn't mean to, and I hope you forgive me. I must've missed your name by mistake. Thank you so much for remaining a loyal reviewer!

Ernie: Sveta89

Thank you very much. I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much as you've enjoyed the previous ones.

Ernie: Frisbee400. I. Did. Try. To. Follow. Your. Advise. But. She. Insisted. On. Passing. Her. Exams!

/picks up quill and parchment/

Dear Maleficent,

I'm little embarrassed. I always thought it was "doggy-dog world", but "dog-eat-dog" makes sooo much more sense! Oops. Ah well. It's fixed now.

I really like Wyatt too, but there is so much that has to go on plotwise, that poor Wyatt may have to be left out of the loop again.

I seriously doubt this chapter could be described as "good and wholesome and not scandal-related", but I certainly hope it "help(s) (you) escape the hum-drum existence of daily life". Happy reading!

Ernie: Thank. You. Virginia

I'm really sorry for leaving you on a cliff hanger, then letting you hang there for such a long time, but you're finally getting an answer to your question. Read on!

Ernie: Asian. Orchid.

Oops! Another reviewer who hates cliff hangers! ...You're not all plotting some sort of assassination, are you? I really hope you haven't given up on this story yet!

Ernie: Charmed148.

Absolutely! You should certainly try your hand at storytelling again! There will never be enough stories around! I had chicken pox too once, but I was around 5 at the time, and all I can really remember about it, was that it itched like hell! I'm hoping you're all better by now.

Ernie: Harrypotterfan4eva

I do know something you don't know – doo dah doo dah...

The end of this story for one. It's already written up, remember? As for who Talia sees in the training room... if you were upset to begin with and just wanted to be left alone, but bumped into someone snarky and sarcastic that you just knew was going to try and bug you, wouldn't that make things worse? I'm not going to answer the Voldemort question. Doo dah doo dah dey...

Ernie: Raiderjade

Yeah, I know. Oops! I thought it was "doggy dog" since forever! Thanks for correcting me. Are you a new reviewer, by the way?

Ernie: Our. Old. Friend. And. Cheerleader. Bob-the-bear.

I'm on school holidays now too! Isn't it great! Oh, I've certainly got things in store for Harry. And hopefully it won't be too long 'till you find what those are.

Ernie: Lobca

Ta da! I've updated! Are you a new reviewer by any chance? We'll get there eventually, but not for a while yet.

Ernie: Stary.

Another new reviewer? Yeah, it would have been nice to include Chris, but when I started Talia, we didn't know who Chris was and, to my everlasting shame, I got rid of him with less than a sentence! For the sake of continuity, I couldn't very well have him in this one. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I have a feeling you'll especially enjoy this chapter...

Ernie: Charmedsisters

What a lovely compliment! I'll do my best not to disappoint! And as for everyone learning who Wyatt and Talia are... it'll happen – eventually.

Ernie: IISGREAT

I'm glad my little story pleased you! I can't wait for the sixth book either! And as for Charmed, can you believe I haven't watched an episode since Christmas! I live in a student hall and don't own a tv. If I want to watch Charmed, I have to go into the common room, and there are ALWAYS people there wanting to watch a movie, or worse, the news! But I'm going back home for the summer, and I can't wait to catch up on Charmed!

Ernie: Goldencatbast

A page-turner? Wow! I'm really flattered, thank you.

Ernie: And. Finally. Thank. You. Lexa

I adore quotes! Thank you. Have you seen the ones on my author page? The wardrobe in my room is covered in colourful post-it notes with little quotes on them. My favourite one at the moment is in Latin: Aut inveniam, aut faciam. It means: I will either find a way, or make one.

..oo00oo..

Phew! I told you there were a lot of you!

Finally, I'd just like to thank my lovely Nightcrawler for beta-ing this chapter when he's got exams next week. Thank you Nightcrawler!

I now leave you... with the story!

..oo00oo..

Chapter 24: Swords Clashing

"What am I doing here! What are you doing here!"

The blond Slytherin wiped his sweat matted hair away from his grey eyes, while glaring at the Gryffindor brunette. Then he groaned.

"Snape said that he let a couple of other students use the training room this year, but he never said who. Figures it'd be you!"

Talia narrowed her eyes at him.

"In which case, I have just as much right to use this room as you have," she said, throwing the towel she'd brought along, angrily on the floor. Without preamble she shed her robes to reveal the training clothes she wore underneath. Talia started on her stretching exercises. She tried to ignore him, she really did, but Draco Malfoy was a lot harder to ignore than most.

"I'm guessing that the other student allowed to use this room, is your good-for-nothing cousin," he drawled. He was leaning elegantly against a wall, his own towel hang carelessly around his sweaty shoulders.

Talia stopped her stretching on the floor abruptly. She did not look up at him as she spoke.

"Go away, Draco. I'm not in the mood," her tense voice echoed in the training room and Draco knew he was walking on thin ice.

..oo00oo..

He observed warily the young woman before him. There was an economy in her movements that spoke of both a practised ease and great anger. Draco had only once seen Talia angry, and her anger had at that time been directed at him. He watched her finish her stretching and start on a complicated routine full of punches and kicks, jabs and flips.

Damn, she was good!

His eyes betrayed nothing, yet he couldn't help but admire her grace, her elegance, and the deadly aura that surrounded her. He knew she was aware of his presence, yet she determinately ignored him as she went on with her training.

The pure-blooded ladies Draco knew were nothing like this woman before him. They were elegant and graceful, yes, but they were vapid, beautiful creatures who had little need to learn anything but how to care for their future husbands, children, and how to command the servants. Pansy Parkinson, Sally Ann Perks, and even Millicent Bullstrode, girls in his own House, girls he had grown up with, the same girls he had seen attend his parents parties along with their parents, had barely managed to pass their end-of-year exams every year. And Draco couldn't really blame them. Pure-blooded ladies like them would never have the need to work after school, would never be allowed to work, even if they wanted to. There was simply no motivation to try and make anything out of their lives. And so, they didn't. Pansy was a wiz when it came to beauty charms, yet her grades in Charms class were always abysmal. As long as she actually graduated, there really was no point in trying for anything more.

He watched Talia deliver a spectacular roundhouse kick to her imaginary opponent. Had he been real, Talia's foot would have likely taken his head off.

Yes, Talia was very, very different than the girls he usually associated with. Maybe it had something to do with her being American. Maybe it had something to do with her being a Wiccan. Maybe it had less to do with any of the above, and more to do with who she was. Draco shrugged. Though Talia didn't seem to try particularly hard, she was always somewhere on the top in every class. Her eyes practically glittered when talking of anything that drew her interest, whether that was academics or not. Just last night she had quoted poetry and spouted philosophy with him over drinks at the Hog's Head. Draco suppressed a smug grin. Talia had practically glowed with pleasure at being able to unleash all that wit and knowledge on someone who knew what she was talking about.

And Draco knew what she was talking about alright. Lucius wouldn't have tolerated otherwise. Draco had had a thorough classical education during his summer holidays in years past. Aristotle, Plato, Machiavelli, Dante, Kant, Nietzsche...he had read all of their writings. He had obediently absorbed what his overpriced tutors taught him, parroting their own views (his father's views, he knew) back to them when they asked.

Hey, it had kept his father happy! And in the summer before his sixth year, it had finally gotten him that Firebolt he always wanted!

But...when Talia talked about philosophy and literature...she was so passionate, that Draco couldn't help but be a little jealous. It wasn't what she said, it was the way she said it that had touched a nerve. She had her own views, the views she had formulated for herself. She could justify herself, could point at her way of thinking and say, "That's exactly how and why I've reached my conclusions". And all he could do was point at the same, old, moth-eaten ideas his father and teachers had passed on to him. They were certainly not conclusions he, himself, had reached. He hadn't allowed himself to really think about any of it, and that was the difference between them. To him, philosophy and literature had been an obligation, a pain; it meant homework in the summer. To her, it was a delight. And if he was honest with himself, their discussion the night before had made him feel a little like a fake. The blond Slytherin scowled.

He watched the Gryffindor brunette gracefully execute a series of flips that left him out of breath just from watching.

Draco wasn't a fool. He knew that there were things he was expected to think and believe in, that most people wouldn't be comfortable with. But Slytherins weren't most people. And Malfoys were the epitome of everything Slytherin. Draco had to admit to himself, that the reason he had never really bothered to look any closer at the beliefs that had been shoved down his throat since he was old enough to speak and listen, was because, deep down, there were parts of those beliefs that he, himself, did not feel very comfortable with.

There were glaring holes in some of his father's anti-muggle philosophies for one. Prior to coming to Hogwarts, Draco was willing to believe that both muggles and muggleborns, were little more than animals, that they were stupid, simple creatures, who, with their sheer numbers and the stupidity of the muggle-loving fools who supported them, would eventually spell the doom of the wizarding world. According to his father, everything a muggle (or muggleborn for that matter, to his father they were one and the same) could do, any pureblood could do better. But that was obviously not the case. Draco didn't want to see it at first, but he didn't really have a choice. Granger was a muggleborn. And though he hated to admit it, she was neither stupid, nor simple. She consistently beat any and all purebloods – including himself, to his everlasting annoyance and shame – to get the highest grades in class. Crabbe was a pureblood. And he would never be able to catch up to Granger academically, never mind beat her grades. Draco might have been able to blame this little inconsistency on Granger being some sort of freak of nature, but – he snorted – she was hardly the only muggleborn to beat Crabbe in school. Clearly not all purebloods were better than all muggleborns, and that part of his father's views, was wrong. The horror of that little realisation had actually made him physically sick back in second year. And it had also made him wonder if any other of his father's views were wrong too. He had never hated Granger as much as he had hated her then.

So, yes, a part of him doubted a lot of the things he had been taught, and that same part of him ached to discover and think about things on his own, but he always pulled himself back. Openly questioning his father's ideas was too dangerous.

Even Talia had carefully glossed over any such discussion last night. He didn't know if he felt a little saddened about that part or not. He would've liked to know what she thought. Draco winced when he remembered the slap she'd given him on the quidditch pitch for calling Granger a mudblood. Was she one of those muggle-loving fools he'd been taught to look down on, all his life? It certainly seemed that way. Was that why she'd ended up in Gryffindor? She was friends with Potter, Weasel and the mudblood...

Yet his father had encouraged him to befriend her at every turn. Why would he do that if she was just another Gryffindor? Draco hadn't asked her, but he was convinced Talia was pureblood. She'd have never received his father's approval otherwise. What was it about her that ingratiated her in his father's eyes, despite the fact that she was a Gryffindor and Potter's friend?

He snuck a look at the brunette as she kicked and punched and jabbed her way around the training room.

Talia was obviously no idiot. If she did support Dumbledore and the rest of them, Draco was willing to bet she had good reasons to. Part of him wanted to ask her what those were. Part of him didn't want to know.

Draco closed his eyes and massaged his throbbing temple. All this thinking gave him a headache. Life would be much, much simpler if he didn't question his father's beliefs at all. It's not like he'd ever actually question them out loud for Merlin's sake! He wasn't a Gryffindor! Besides, surely all of Slytherin and the Dark Lord couldn't be wrong...

And surely his father knew best.

Either way, the way of doubt, was the way of trouble, Draco knew. And like a good Slytherin, he saw no reason to make his life any more difficult than he absolutely had to. He opened his eyes and a glint of determination shone in their grey depths. Time to get these stupid notions out of his head...

..oo00oo..

"Impressive," Draco drawled as he pushed himself away from the wall.

Talia turned to face him. Sweat glistened on her golden skin. She was sleek and tense like a panther about to strike, yet the fury in her eyes had abated significantly. She regarded him coldly as he came closer.

"That's a very big sword for such a little girl." He smirked.

Talia raised a single eyebrow. She'd picked up the sword not too long ago, and she had almost forgotten the blond Slytherin at the periphery of her vision. She didn't think he'd been paying her any mind, lost in his own thoughts. The light flashed on the cold metal as she suddenly moved to rest the sharp point of the sword on the tender skin of Draco's throat.

"Careful, Draco...or this little girl might just show you how well versed she is, at using this big sword," she drawled back, a hint of amusement about her.

His eyes glittered mischievously as he pressed slightly closer. The metal edge pressed against the skin rather painfully, but didn't break it.

"And I might just take you up on that challenge, Talia," he growled.

His voice was soft, lower than normal, and it sent shivers down Talia's spine.

"Alright," she answered in kind, "pick up a sword and let's see what you've got."

She took a step back and spread her arms invitingly. Draco smirked, before moving past her to the wall behind her, were many weapons hang, ready to be used. He examined the swords carefully while Talia watched.

Draco took his time. He finally picked a simple, yet heavy-looking blade, with a sharp edge. Talia approved. Most elaborate swords, while pretty to look at, weren't efficient. Heavy jewels and ostentatious carvings played havoc with a sword's balance. She watched the Slytherin swing the sword around a few times in graceful arcs and complicated twists, to get the feel of it in his hands. Only when he was satisfied did he turn round.

Talia and Draco faced each other.

"First blood?" she drawled.

"Let's go," Draco growled, seconds before Talia launched herself at him.

..oo00oo..

The room echoed with the clang of metal on metal. Talia twisted and aimed her sword in an underhanded, unfair move, directly at Draco's stomach. The blond jumped backwards and used his own sword to push hers away from its previously appointed trajectory.

"You're a lot better than I thought you'd be," she said through a smile that showed entirely too many teeth.

Neither of them paused in their manic movements. They had been at it for a while now, and were both covered in sweat, hair sticking to foreheads, and clothes clinging to lightning fast limbs.

"So are you," Draco admitted with delighted smirk, feigning a move to the right, before moving to stab at her left side. She blocked him.

"Where did you learn how to use a sword anyway?" she managed, while spinning to avoid yet another jab, this time aimed to her right side.

"I'm a Malfoy. My father taught me," he growled, using his superior strength to block the barrage of stabs and slashes she suddenly pelted him with. "What about you? Where did you learn how to fight?"

"My father taught me too," she answered simply, before aiming a roundhouse kick at his head. He managed to duck only just in time.

She was faster, but he was stronger. And both were deadly. Talia couldn't help but marvel at the two of them. She wasn't holding anything back, hadn't been for a while now. And unlike when she was sparring with Wyatt, she wasn't afraid of using underhanded tactics; Slytherin tactics.

He wasn't holding anything back either. She could tell.

Neither of them wore any sort of protection against the sharp blades. Talia inspected their clothing with a critical eye. Draco was bare to the waist, only wearing a pair of black, loose fitting, drawstring trousers; the kind she had seen Snape train in. They were certainly a lot more practical to fight in than those stiff robes both of them usually wore. She was wearing a red tank top and black cotton shorts. Scandalous attire in the wizarding world, especially in pureblooded society, she knew. She couldn't help but wonder what Draco thought of that. And she couldn't help but notice how Draco looked in those trousers... Oh my! If only Lavender and Parvati could see him now... She gave a mental shrug focusing back on the fight. It's not like she and Draco hadn't seen each other wearing less; a lot less, she remembered with a leering smile. Draco's blond eyebrow shot upwards at its appearance on her lips, even as he blocked the downward arc of her blade.

Their swords clashed once more. Talia twisted and turned to avoid Draco's powerful thrusts. They moved around the room in an intricate, graceful, dance – blades flashing angrily. Their swords crossed and Draco leant into her, pressing the advantage of his superior strength. Talia had to grit her teeth to hold him off. They were so close! They glared at each other, both breathing heavily.

Talia gasped in pain as her right knee almost buckled under her.

Draco had snaked his leg around hers, and shoved the heel of his foot at the back of her knee. It was a dirty move - and would've worked too, getting Talia on her knees, if she hadn't managed to twist on her good leg, turning into Draco so that her back was to his chest, before shoving a vicious elbow to his ribs. She heard him gasp in her ear, even as the pain in her own knee was abating.

Aching, protesting, muscles or not, neither of them even thought of backing out. They were both too stubborn for that.

Talia slashed at his bare shoulder. Her sharp sword danced against his skin, he pushed her off, but it was enough to draw blood. Her eyes glittered triumphantly.

"I win!" she declared gleefully.

Draco smirked.

"Check again, Turner," he drawled.

Talia followed his eyes to her left thigh. A small cut marred the smooth skin. Her eyes widened in surprise. Well that had never happened before!

"A draw..."

"So it would seem," he agreed, smirking at her surprise.

His voice was low and deep again, she noticed. He took a step forward and Talia was assaulted by the very masculine smell of him.

"That was fun, Turner," he said, and his warm breath fanned her flushed face.

Talia knew what he wanted. It shone in the depths of his lust-filled grey eyes. She matched his smirk with one of her own and her eyes sparkled up at him.

"Yes. Yes it was," she breathed provocatively, looking at him through lowered eyelashes.

His arm wrapped around her slim waist and pushed her flush against him. Her skin was on fire everywhere her body touched his. They simply looked at each other for a while, both turned on beyond belief, before Draco bent his head to capture her lips with his own for a savage, open-mouthed, kiss.

..oo00oo..

Draco collapsed on his back breathing heavily.

"And that was even more fun," he managed hoarsely.

"Even better than last time," agreed Talia with a tired, yet very satisfied, smile, "and that's saying something."

Draco attempted a smug smirk, but it came out as more of a goofy-looking smile.

"Last time I was drunk."

"We both were," she said, lying on her side, face cupped in the palm of her hand for support. She laid her other hand on his chest, lazily drawling circles with her fingers on his pale skin.

Both of them were completely naked, yet neither felt the need to cover up. Neither said anything for the longest time, minds blessedly blank, legs entwined.

"You're a strange girl, Talia," he finally said.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"For sleeping with you?" she asked, amused.

"I can't work out what your motives are," he admitted.

"I repeat: for sleeping with you?"

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Among other things..."

She shrugged.

"I felt like it. You're sexy."

He looked at her thoughtfully for a while, before turning on his own side to face her.

"You want to have a proper go at this?"

That elegant eyebrow lifted up again.

"You mean a relationship?"

He smirked, amused.

She seriously considered it for a while, while he watched on, curiously.

"It would make things...complicated," she finally answered carefully. "Can either of us afford it at this point in time?"

The hand that wasn't supporting his blond head, reached for her naked waist.

"I enjoy spending time with you, Turner," his hand slithered upwards to cup her naked breast, "and I really, really enjoy making love to you."

"Neither of those has to change," she purred.

It was his turn to lift a blond eyebrow, before curving his lips into a deliciously wicked smirk.

"I repeat my earlier statement, Talia. You're a strange girl," Talia lay down on her back as his hand did wicked things to her breast. "You're simple and complicated at the same time."

"I'm flattered," she breathed.

"It may take me a while, but I'll figure you out eventually."

..oo00oo..

Talia closed the training room door softly, before turning to walk down the corridor, a smile firmly lodged on her face. She and Draco had decided to leave the room separately and she had ten minutes in which to be far away, before he came out.

Not that anyone was likely to be awake at this time of night, she thought, but they were better safe than sorry.

Quickly and quietly she made her way towards the Gryffindor tower, nothing more than just another shadow in the darkened corridors of the ancient castle.

"Another late night, Talia?" a soft voice echoed in the darkness.

Talia froze and the smile ran away from her face. It was as if someone had poured a bucketful of ice cold water down her back.

"Don't be childish, Talia. It's rude not to look at people when they talk to you."

When Talia turned around, her face was an emotionless mask, and her eyes glittered coldly in the dark.

"Riddle," she greeted with a slight, regal, nod.

..oo00oo..

A/N: I hate to sound greedy after getting so many lovely reviews last time, but reviews really do make my day!