Draco splashed water over his face, trying to clear his mind. He looked at his face reflected in the mirror, the face of Draco Malfoy. He stared into his own eyes and tried for the hundredth time to figure out what was going on in his head. He was scared, he had been since this whole thing had started. Ever since Etean had appeared in his house, he had been faced with choices when he really had no choice at all. Let his father continue to use him or make his own way. That choice made, he had been given another, agree to make himself a target for Voldemort, accepting dismal changes of survival, or run and hide, accepting that he would never be truly free as long as the Dark Lord lived. Again, that hadn't really been a choice had it? He couldn't run, couldn't hide from Voldemort all his life, so here he was. Draco had managed to accept his situation by giving up on his own chances of survival. Accepting his death as an inevitable consequence of this plan had allowed him to hide from the fear. But now even that choice had been taken from him. Etean had spelled it out to him. This was too important for him to fuck it up, and Etean wouldn't allow him to go into it believing he was doomed, 'that's the best way I know to make sure you do die, and you'll fail before you do.'
He bent down and splashed his face again. So what was he going to do? On one hand, he could give up and accept the inevitable, that he couldn't do what Etean was asking him to do. He could accept a quick death by Etean's hand. That thought was simple – cold, terrifying but simple. There wasn't a single doubt in his head that Etean could and would kill him if it came to it but…he didn't want to die. His mind touched on the alternative, Voldemort! His thoughts stuck solid. He had never met Voldemort but he couldn't believe that it was possible for anyone to have more fear of any single person. How could he hope to fight Voldemort and live? 'I will guarantee you that I will do whatever I can, whatever it takes to get you ready to face what's coming,' Draco heard Etean's words again, did he really mean it? Draco leaned forward, his forehead resting on the mirror, was Etean really on his side? Could he really get him through this in one piece? His mind filled with doubts, he had only known Etean for a couple of months and in that time he had tortured, confused and damn near killed him dozens of times. He was powerful, Draco got the sense that he had no idea just how powerful Etean really was. But even he didn't think he could beat Voldemort and that's what he wanted Draco to do? How? Thinking about it, Etean had never really explained to him just how the hell he was supposed to destroy Voldemort when the entire Wizarding World couldn't do it. Come to think about it, he had never really been totally honest with him about anything. In every conversation they had had, Draco had always gotten the impression that Etean had been only telling him part of the story, was that what he was still doing? Was he just trying to manipulate Draco into playing the role that he wanted him to play?
Draco turned and sat against the sink, confused and angry that his life had been reduced to this. The sling around his neck snagged against the buttons of his robes. Angrily he tugged it free then shrugged it off, tossing it across the bathroom. He pulled the glove from his hand and hurled it after the sling. Two full weeks had past since that night in the forest and he had given up any real hope of ever using it again despite Etean's assurances that it would get easier. He felt slightly sick as he looked at the cold purple skin and the glaring gold bands. The anger in him boiled over again and his teeth ground as his eyes settled on his scar. He raised his left hand and started to trace his fingers along the line of it, feeling not the slightest sensation of the touch. He pressed harder, digging his fingernails into his flesh but still nothing. He gave up, the anger left him, leaving him nothing but a deep empty despair. He shut his eyes and slammed both fists into the sink top, trying to stop himself from crying.
Draco's eyes opened and he stared at his hand. His fingers had closed to a fist. He hadn't even really tried to move them, they had responded on their own. In disbelief, he stared at his fist, willing it to move again, to respond to his thoughts and it did. Slowly, jerkily, his fingers spread out. Draco wasn't able to stop a tear from falling. He watched his fingers tremble and twitch as he slowly closed a fist again. He couldn't feel it, it was as numb as it had been, but he could move his fingers. His lungs expanded, he felt as if a great weight had bee lifted from his shoulders. A single movement, a tiny victory but it was something, the first ray of hope he had seen for a long time. There was a knock at the door, some other Slytherin wanted to use the bathroom. Draco ignored the noise and continued to stare at his hand as he slowly clenched and unclenched it. The movement remained awkward and jerky. It took him a full ten seconds to close his fist and about fifteen to open it but he didn't care about that, he could move his hand again!
The door pounded again, accompanied by an angry voice. Muffled by the door Draco couldn't identify the speaker. Glaring at the door, he focussed his mind to sense them. He felt the annoyed frustration from them straight away. The emotion became cleared as the link formed and he concentrated on their thoughts. The noise nearly deafened him, he shut his eyes and concentrated, 'a name…who are you?'
Foreign thoughts flashed through Draco's mind, too rapidly for him to make sense of them. After a moment, through the noise a single, repeating sound became more apparent. Draco concentrated, pushing everything else aside. The thought sounded in his mind,
'I am too important for this, I am Head Boy,' the door pounded again, Draco broke the connection, he knew who it was.
"Hold on one bloody minute Anderson," Draco crossed the room and picked up his sling, but didn't put it on. He pulled on his glove and moved to the door, opening it as Anderson pounded again,
"About time Malfoy," Anderson snarled, "What the hell were you doing in here?" Draco scowled,
"What do you think Anderson? This is a fucking bathroom," he pushed forward, bumping Anderson out of the way,
"Yeah, well you don't own the place Malfoy, this is our bathroom," Draco didn't turn round,
"Whatever," he headed down the corridor to his bedroom to collect his bag before heading off to Defence class.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hogwarts was big, seven stories of winding corridors and passageways. The school could easily accommodate twice the number of students that it currently housed. It didn't prove too difficult therefore for Etean and Ginny to find an empty classroom to spend their lunch hour. By the looks of the room, it had once been used for transfiguration lessons, but the thick carpet of dust covering every exposed surface left no doubt that it had not seen use in quite a while.
"I've never been in here before," Ginny whispered as Etean shut the door behind her,
"I don't think anyone has," Etean replied, surveying the remnants of countless spider webs intertwined between the beams of the roof, "Certainly not this century anyway," he stepped round her and waved his wand, the dust and cobwebs went flying as if caught by a sudden wind. In seconds the room was restored to a reasonably clean state. A second wave of his wand sent the few remaining ancient desks and chairs through the air to land in a heap by the rear wall. A small table, set for lunch and two chairs materialised in their place. Ginny turned to Etean, she looked impressed,
"You'd make a decent housewife!" she smirked, Etean raised an eyebrow, 'Housewife?' he crossed to the table and took off his cloak,
"Yes well," he folded his arms across his chest, "I have done my part so now it's your turn,"
"What do you mean?"
"I cleaned up, you make lunch," Ginny scowled and took out her wand,
"What is it with men and their aversion to cooking?" she shook her head as she conjured up a pile sandwiches. 'She's pretty when she's pretending to be mad,' Etean remarked to himself. "That'll have to do I'm afraid," she said, pocketing her wand. Etean surveyed the table and nodded. Remembering his manners, he darted round behind her to pull her chair out as she sat down,
"Allow me Madame," he allowed the twist of a French accent play into his voice as he spoke,
"Thank You," she replied. Etean sat down and helped himself to a sandwich. Peanut butter and ham, an unusual combination but, he was surprised to find, not a bad one,
"Mmmm," he nodded as she looked at him expectantly, "Nice,"
"You don't lie well," she scolded,
"Au contraire ma cherie," he shook his head, "I lie very well when I have the need to. It's honesty that I usually have trouble with. Somehow I never seem to get it right," she looked at him for a moment before shaking her head and picking up a sandwich. They ate in silence for a while before she spoke again,
"Where are you from Etean?" the question caught him flat footed, he paused and looked at her,
"What a question. I thought everyone knew where I was from," she sat forward, leaning on her elbows,
"Well, I read you were French, but you don't really sound French,"
"Non?" the accent returned, she frowned,
"Well, most of the time anyway. Your accent comes and goes. You don't really sound like you're from anywhere, ," Etean nodded,
"It comes from years of elocution lessons, learning the correct way to speak in French, German, English, Spanish…the list goes on. The result is that I can have any accent I want or no accent at all," he shrugged, "but I am French. Born in Marseilles,"
"Is it nice there?"
"It has its moments, nice in the summer. Not that I was there much to enjoy it," a stray lock of hair fell free from behind her ear as she frowned,
"Where did you grow up?" she tucked her hair back, Etean found himself wishing she hadn't. 'She'd look nicer with her hair down,' he shrugged again,
"Lots of places," finishing his sandwich, he found that he was thirsty. He lifted his wand and conjured two goblets of wine. Picking his up and taking a drink before continuing, "You remember Antoine?" she picked up her own goblet, it paused halfway to her mouth as she heard the question,
"Yes," she said quietly,
"Well, after that my father became sort of security conscious when it came to me. Paranoid is a better word for it. He had me moved around all the time, never staying put for long. That way nobody could get near enough to hurt me," Ginny tasted the wine and made a face, clearly not used to alcohol,
"That must have been tough on you," Etean paused,
"It wasn't easy but I got used to it. Now, staying in one place for more than a couple of weeks seems very odd to me. I'm not sure how I'll get on here, stuck in this castle for months," he smiled at her, "I might go insane," Ginny took another gulp of wine, pulling another face,
"This place isn't so bad when you get used to it. I really like it here,"
"Even with the crazy professors and the mad bears trying to tear your arm off?" she shrugged,
"At least it's never boring," she finished her wine, "I like this stuff," she looked at her empty goblet, then up at him. Taking the hint, Etean picked up his wand and refilled it for her,
"You should really go easy there, this isn't exactly weak stuff you know?" she took another drink, ignoring his warning,
"So, did you travel alone or did your parents go with you?" Etean shook his head,
"No, I travelled with various nannies and teachers. Duncan was my only permanent companion, and you can imagine how much I enjoyed that," she nodded,
"What about your parents?"
"My father was a very busy man. I saw a lot of him, don't get me wrong, but he was forever running about to meetings and other things. The life of a politician and all that," he took another sip of wine, sensing the coming question,
"And your mother? Was she always busy too?" Etean lowered his goblet slowly, his expression darkened before he could hide it,
"No, she wasn't," he paused, "she died," Ginny covered her mouth, looking horrified,
"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know," Etean shook his head,
"How could you? It happened a long time ago. I don't even remember her, not really, I wasn't even two years old at the time," Ginny leaned forward and put her hand on his,
"I'm so sorry, what…I mean how did she die?" Etean looked at Ginny, his jaw set,
"She…she got sick and she died," he pulled back from her, snatching his goblet and draining it, "I don't really like talking about her," Ginny nodded,
"I know how you feel," Etean stopped himself from responding to that, 'No, that won't help here. Move past it, talk about something else, anything else,' he shook his head and took a breath. He refilled his wine and turned to her, her expression told him that she was stuck, not knowing what else to say.
"So," he forced his tone to sound lighter, "rumour has it that you are quite the little Chaser?"
"What?"
"Quidditch?" she smiled as the change in subject broke the tension in the air,
"Oh yeah, well I made the team anyway," she leaned back in her chair, "not too sure how good I'll be,"
"Really? Buy you were on the team last year though weren't you?"
"Yeah for the last two games. It was fun, we won the Cup," Etean nodded,
"I thought I saw your name on the trophy. But it said Seeker, not Chaser. What made you change positions?"
"I was only filling in as Seeker. Harry is the real Gryffindor Seeker. I had to stand in for him while he was banned,"
"Banned?"
"Yes," she scowled, "Umbridge banned him for no good reason, my brothers too, the vicious old tyrant,"
"OK, so I take it that this Umbridge was not a popular person round here?" Ginny laughed,
"No, she definitely was not. You mean you haven't heard about her?" Etean shook his head, Ginny rolled her eyes. "No, of course you wouldn't have,"
"Why is that?"
"Well," she leaned forward and held her goblet in both hands, "you're a Slytherin. The Slytherins liked Umbridge, they're as nasty as she was. I bet they really miss her,"
"Well if they do, they don't talk about her much,"
"What do they talk about?" Etean shrugged,
"Themselves mostly, how rich they are, how they are clearly better than everyone else, that sort of thing,"
"Sounds fascinating,"
"You have no idea," his voice dripped with sarcasm, they both laughed. Ginny drained her goblet again and made a point of showing it to Etean. "Better make this the last one," he said as he refilled it. "So, are you a better Chaser than you are a seeker?" she paused in thought for a moment,
"Don't know," she shrugged, "I think being a Chaser will be more fun. Seekers only get to catch the Snitch. Chasers are in the thick of the game all the time,"
"True, but it takes some real flying skill to be Seeker, Chaser is an easier position,"
"Oh," she took another swig of wine, "easy is it? Chasers have a lot more to worry about than Seekers. We have to keep our attention on the Quaffle, be aware of where our team-mates are, where the opposing Chasers are and where the Bludgers are. Seekers only have to worry about the Snitch."
"Yes but the Snitch is a damned sight harder to keep track of than any Quaffle or Bludger,"
"Yeah, OK. You do have a point, but I still like being a Chaser more than I liked being Seeker," she frowned and looked around, emptying her goblet again, "I wonder how long it's been since there were any classes in here?" Etean shook his head, he really had no idea.
"Good question," Standing up, he looked around the room. Blackboards lined several of the walls. Many were still covered in diagrams and smudged symbols. He recognised most of them. Transfiguration had apparently not changed much in the years since this room was in use. His eyes traced across the diagrams and settled on a row of trunks along the wall. Etean hunkered down and tried the lock on the first one. Despite its age, it was surprisingly solid. "Pass me my wand Ginny," he heard a clatter behind him. Ginny stood up too fast and sent her chair flying. 'Mental note, this girl and alcohol do not mix,' Etean looked round at her as she walked over toward him, carrying his wand. She tripped and stumbled, only the fact that stood up and caught her stopped her from falling flat on her face,
"Oops," she giggled, "sorry,"
"Right, sorry," Etean smiled, "how about we take it easy for a bit yeah?" he lowered her to the ground and took his wand from her hand, turning back to the trunk. The lock opened and he lifted the lid, coughing as a cloud of dust hit him in the face. When it settled he peered into the trunk,
"What's in it?" Ginny asked behind him. Etean reached into the trunk and pulled out a pile of tattered notebooks,
"Just a load of old report books," he replied leafing through them. "Isn't your dad called Arthur?" Etean pulled one of the notebooks from the bundle,
"Yes, why?" Ginny shuffled round him to get a look at the book he was holding,
"Because," he handed it to her, "I think this was his," Ginny's mouth dropped open when she read the name on the cover,
"I don't believe it, it is his," she ran her free hand through her hair, pulling the bobbin from it as she did. 'Yes, definitely better with her hair down,' Etean thought as he watched her scan her fathers records. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, "His marks were really bad. Look," she jabbed a finger at the open page, "he only just passed Transfiguration in third year, and he did even worse in fourth year. I can't believe he lectured me on getting bad grades when his were like this,"
"Well, that's what parents do isn't it?" Ginny pulled some of the notebooks from him,
"I wonder if my mum's one is in here somewhere."
"What was her name before she was married?"
"Molly Prewett. You haven't got hers there have you?" Etean leafed through the rest of the pile, then shook his head,
"Nope, not here," Ginny crawled over to the open trunk,
"I wonder if it's in here," she grabbed an armful of notebooks from the trunk and dropped them on the floor in front of her, raising another cloud of dust,
"Thanks," Etean grumbled between coughs. Ginny sorted through the books, they all looked identical apart from the names on them. But none were her mother's. Her eyes turned to the next trunk,
"Maybe her records are in this one," she dug about inside her robes and took out her wand. She took aim and blasted the lock on the next trunk and, not bothering to open it, she moved onto the next. Etean leaned over and stopped her,
"Do you want to search them all?" she turned to look at him,
"Do you have something better to do?" Etean thought about it, he wasn't sure exactly what time it was but he was fairly sure it was nearly time for him to head to Defence Against the Dark Arts. He looked at Ginny,
"No, nothing I can think of," he let go of her hand. She kissed him quickly then grinned as she turned back to the trunks.
"Alohamora!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Draco turned the corner onto the corridor where the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was located. Weasley was standing outside the door, without Potter for once. His chest puffed out when he saw Draco, he set his hands on his hips and glared at him,
"You and I have unfinished business Malfoy," Draco stopped in front of him, Weasley kept on talking before he could respond, "And we are going to settle it tonight. And this time I don't care if Dumbledore himself tries to get in the way, nothing is going to stop me from pulverising you," he spun on a heel and was gone before Draco could say anything. Draco paused long enough so as not to appear to be following him into the room before he entered. The Slytherins were clustered together by one wall and the Gryffindors were by the other, Etean was nowhere to be seen. Draco crossed to the Slytherins. Pansy moved to allow him into the circle,
"What happened to your sling Draco?" she asked. He looked at her and shook his head,
"Nothing I just didn't see the point of wearing it,"
"But Madame Pomfrey said you were to," he sighed,
"Yes, but that was only so I didn't accidentally hurt myself. I don't actually need the bloody thing," she linked her arm round his,
"I know that but…," she leaned in closer to him, "I was looking forward to playing nursemaid a bit longer,"
"I don't need a nursemaid Pansy," undeterred by the edge in his voice, she purred,
"Who said anything about you needing a nurse? But it's a good idea, maybe later we could…" she never got to finish her suggestion. The door of the classroom opened and Professor McGonagall entered. Draco turned to face the Professor, breaking Pansy's hold on him as he did.
The Professor marched quickly up to the head of the classroom and turned to face the class, tapping her wand on the lectern for order. When she had achieved silence she cleared her throat and addressed them,
"Now then students, this is my turn to teach your defence classes. For my classes, we shall focus on the tactical aspects of duelling," she started to pace across the top of the room,
"Duelling, as you shall soon see is not just about who casts the first spell, or even who casts the more powerful spell," she paused and glared as Potter made some comment under his breath, "In a lot of cases," she raised her voice slightly, "a duelling match can be over before it starts. It all comes down to tactics, if you learn to read your opponent, anticipate their actions and prepare your response. For those who can do that correctly, victory is all the more assured. Unfortunately there is no certain way to teach this kind of lesson. The only way to learn is by practicing. To that end I have designed a series of tactical exercises that will allow you to gain experience. The first of these we shall go through today." McGonagall pointed her wand at the floor in front of her, a white star appeared on the tiles. She lifted her wand and pointed at an empty portion of floor beside the Gryffindors, then at a similar spot in front of the Slytherins, identical starts appeared at each point,
"The three points outline an equilateral triangle. This exercise will be conducted in threes. When you take part, you will each stand on one point and duel facing not one, but two opponents. They in turn will each be facing two opponents. The objective is simple, to be the last man standing. Each combatant will be required to defeat both opponents. In order to win, you will have to judge your opponents intentions, determine whether they will attack you, whether they will attack each other or whether they will simply defend and wait for you to attack them?" She turned to the blackboard and tapped it once with her wand. The names of everyone in the class appeared. McGonagall tapped the board again and three names were underlined. Draco shook his head, 'Typical,' he was up first, against Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley. 'It seems Weasley will get his chance to, what was it? Pulverise me? Sooner than he thought he would.' Weasley and Longbottom took their positions, 'We'll see about that,' Draco spread his shoulders and stepped forward to take position on the remaining star.
"Now," the Professor continued, "You three know each other, you should have some idea what both of the opponents facing you will do. You cannot be sure but you can make an educated guess," Draco tuned her out, 'Cannot be sure eh?' he couldn't stop the tiny smirk from spreading across his face as he reached out to read Longbottom's thoughts. McGonagall's voice faded away as his attention focussed on the sound of Longbottom's mind. He concentrated and picked out the central thought, 'Ron is my friend, so he won't attack me. I have to get Malfoy first,' Draco felt his smile widen as he looked at Longbottom's nervous eyes, 'Get me will you?'
His attention turned to Weasley. He could fell the anger from him even before the connection formed. Weasley's mind was racing so fast that Draco had to grind his teeth and focus his complete attention on him to make sense of it. The dull ache in his temples returned as the thoughts became clearer. 'Malfoy will attack me. Good, I'll get him, just see if I don't. But what about Neville? What will he do? He won't attack me, so he'll go for Malfoy. Malfoy won't see Neville's spell coming, Neville will beat him, NO! He can't do that…' Draco pulled back and shook his head to clear it as he heard McGonagall call for them to be ready. He was sure he knew what was going to happen, Longbottom would go for him and Weasley…would go for Longbottom. There was no doubt about it, Weasley wanted Draco all to himself. He couldn't bear the thought of Longbottom beating Draco before he did.
'So, dodge Longbottom's attack, knock Weasley out and then mop up what's left,' the plan settled in his mind as McGonagall began to count,
"Three…Two…One…" he never heard her shout go. His attention focussed on Weasley, trusting his instincts to take care of Longbottom's attack. He felt the tug on his attention as his senses detected the threat of the incoming spell and wanted him to deal with it. He ignored the urge to dodge as he took aim at Weasley's chest.
"Stupefy!" he roared, launching the spell. Weasley didn't even see it coming, his attention was on Longbottom. Draco's senses snapped his mind back to the incoming spell. He dropped hard to one knee, allowing it to pass inches over his head as he saw his stunner connect with Weasley, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Before he had even hit the ground, Draco spun to aim at Longbottom. Weasley had disarmed him, his wand lay on the floor halfway between them. Longbottom was staring at Weasley's unconscious form, the moment's pause was more than Draco needed,
"Repulse!" he shouted, the red flash detonated on Longbottom, hurling him back into the wall and out of the duel. Draco stood up as the Slytherin's exploded with applause. He turned to take a bow before facing McGonagall.
"Well done Mr. Malfoy, perfectly executed though perhaps," her eyes darted to Longbottom lying against the wall with half the Gryffindors clustered round him, "a little over zealous," her tone was severe, but not harsh. Draco merely shrugged and turned back to the still cheering Slytherins. Pansy locked onto him with a hug and planted a kiss on his mouth before he could stop her. McGonagall barked at them to return to order. Draco shoved Pansy back in order for him to be able to breathe. He turned to see McGonagall glaring at him. "Now then, if we are quite finished Mr. Malfoy," he felt himself flush with anger, McGonagall turned back to Longbottom and Weasley and, seeing that they were alright, she carried on, tapping the board to highlight the next group. Draco looked at the board to see Pansy's name underlined along with Hermione's and…
"Where is Robert Etean?" McGonagall asked. Draco felt every eye turn to him, including McGonagall. He looked around him and shrugged,
"I haven't seen him," McGonagall looked doubtful for a moment before she turned and called Goyle forward to take his place. Draco's eyes fixed on Hermione as she took her place. Her expression was surprisingly blank but she didn't seem nervous. He watched as she looked from Goyle to Pansy and then back again. Draco turned to read Goyle, his slow mind opened up to reveal his intention to attack the 'little mudblood'. Draco didn't have to bother reading Pansy to know what she would do, he was about to read Hermione when McGonagall started the countdown and cut him off.
The duel started, Goyle and Pansy took aim and fired at Hermione. She raised her wand and conjured a shield to protect herself. No, it was not a shield, it was a mirror. Draco watched as both incoming spells were reflected off it, Pansy's at Goyle and vice versa. Neither Slytherin had the time to react to their sudden danger, both collapsed as the spells hit and knocked them out. Hermione smiled and turned to McGonagall, the Gryffindors went berserk with glee. To Draco, it appeared that McGonagall was allowing their celebrations to go on longer than she had let the Slytherins but he didn't care, he was too busy forcing himself not to cheer along with them. Crabbe moved forward to pick up the unconscious Goyle, Millicent and Nott picked up Pansy. Once they were both out of harms way and properly revived, McGonagall called the next trio.
The rest of the class passed like that, Draco couldn't stop laughing when Crabbe, Millicent and Pavarti Patil managed somehow to all knock each other out in a single blast. Potter won his grouping, minus a lot of his prior smugness. Losing to Etean was clearly bothering him. For the most part, the sixth years seemed quite capable of thinking on their feet. As the class ended and the students left, Draco hung back. Pansy had left him alone to deal with the injured Millicent after her duel. She had stayed away from him for the rest of the class and now he wanted to give her enough of a head start so that he would not be forced to listen to her all the way back to the dungeons.
Amongst the last out of the room, he was surprised to see Hermione waiting for him,
"There you are," she said, "I thought I'd missed you," he was taken aback, 'What?'
"Missed me?"
"Yes, I wanted to arrange for us to get together," his jaw hung open,
"What?" she scowled,
"Our project for Professor Vector, remember? We had better get a move on or we'll never finish it," Draco had to think for a minute before he remembered the damned project,
"Oh right," he shook his head, "Sure, we probably had," she nodded,
"Well then, when do you want to meet?" he thought about it, it was a better prospect than heading back to Slytherin,
"What about now? We're finished for the day," she paused for a moment before nodding,
"Ok then, I'll get my stuff and meet you in the library in ten minutes," Draco had an idea,
"No, not the library,"
"Why not?" seeing the confused expression on her face he thought fast, 'how do I say this right?'
"Well," he paused, "It's just that we need to talk, to discuss this project. We can't exactly do that with Madame Prince hovering now can we?" she leaned her head to the side, thinking,
"Fair enough, so where then?" 'The Astronomy Tower? No…too obvious,'
"How about the Prefect Common Room, it can't be too crowded in there," she shrugged,
"OK, see you there in a bit," she turned and headed off. Draco watched her go, clicking his tongue against his teeth before he too spun and marched off to get his books.