Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't even own a boyfriend and its Valentines Day out there tomorrow, but you know what? I'm an independent woman, and can buy my own chocolates, so all of you single girls out there facing the worse day to be single on, all the more power to you, babes! Rock on!

Thanks to:

shippocutie: thanks for the review, and I updated!

dbi: I'm glad that you like the Draco and Bill interactions, here some more

GREMLIN: lol!

Quinky-Dink: ewww, sweaty man hands, here's another chapter to get you through, and while some of the info Draco stores away may not be used to actually do something, it helps him figure out people, but some of the info is important, thanks for the review

NMS: Here is some action for you, just like you wanted

And as always, thanks to my amazing beta!

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Chapter Twelve

Rule number ten: Be prepared to fight in all forms of combat.

It was December now. The snow that had been missing all of November finally came with a vengeance to the point where outside classes were cancelled for two days straight. But then the weather settled down and the sun came out and reflected blindingly on the freshly fallen snow.

Draco and Bill had gotten nowhere on the new dialect, although they had eliminated quite a few possibilities but Draco didn't mind too badly. He had begun to look forward to the hour a week where he could drop his façade and be the undecided child genius he was.

He was also beginning to like the red-haired professor, something that unnerved him because he found himself relaxing more and, consequentially, talking more. He supposed it had to do something with the fact that Bill never pried. When he asked questions about Draco it was because he genuinely wanted to know, not because he was using the information for his own purposes. He was also incredibly open with Draco, telling stories of his own, and so Draco found himself opening up to Bill.

"So, does your mother know that you're so smart?" asked Bill as he flipped through a book.

"Why do you want to know?" asked Draco, slightly defensively, but Bill was used to his general distrust of the world now and didn't get offended.

"Just curious," he said. "It seems like a hard thing to hide from a mother."

"My mother is a lot of things," said Draco guardedly, "and attentive to me is not one of them."

"But surely she noticed it when you were young," said Bill. "My mother practically smothered me when I was little and it got quite irritating after awhile. She still does every so often, but usually just to bug me about my long hair. I will not go near her when she has a pair of scissors in her hands for fear she'll just grab me and chop away."

Draco smirked at that mental picture.

"So, your mother didn't notice," said Bill, and Draco felt his mouth speaking before he had consciously decided to share the story.

"The first time I saw my mother was when I was five," he said. "I was shown pictures of her, and occasionally glimpsed her leaving the house, but the first time I saw her up close was when we had a family photo taken of us. My grand-mère loves to tell me what a horrible mother Narcissa is. When I was born, and when the Healers gave me to mother, she refused to hold me or to feed me. She only held me when she took me home in our carriage, but as soon as she got home she gave me to Lucius and that was that."

"You serious?" asked Bill, staring at him, and Draco shrugged, again cursing his mouth.

Bill was obviously shocked because he wasn't saying anything, though it looked like he wanted to. Draco took pity on him and decided that since he had spilled this much already, he may as well explain to Bill. He doubted that it would stay secret for long anyways; not when he had a professor like Bill.

"You have to realize that my mother didn't want a baby, she didn't even want to get married, she's far too loose to be tied down, but my father was infatuated with her, and he was rich and on top of the social circle. She married him and gave him a male heir, and that was that. He went on with his life in business and she went on with her activities though much more discretely. She's not at home a lot."

"That's terrible," said Bill. "I have no clue what I would do in that position."

Draco shrugged. "It gives me a reason to be a prat," he said. "Bad home life and all." He said it flippantly, hoping to distill some of the concern on Bill's face, but the red-haired man just looked even more worried.

"Is it really bad?" he asked.

Draco shook his head and went on to explain again. "I'm home alone a lot, but that's it. Narcissa, when she is home, is too drunk or high on pleasure potions to do anything, and Lucius is usually gone on business, or on the run from the Ministry," he added as an after thought.

"It's still terrible," said Bill. "My mother, though sometimes she's a little too involved in my life, was always at home and cooking or cleaning or reading to us. She was always worrying about us too. When I went home for break in my first year, she cried the entire time and almost didn't let me go back."

Bill laughed at the memory, and Draco smiled slightly as well.

"It sounds nice," he said, truthfully.

"What about Lucius then?" asked Bill. "Does he know?"

Draco didn't say anything, but stared at the paper in front of him, his fingers increasing their pace in the 1-3-2-4 pattern. He didn't get along with his father, 'resented' him was the word, but somewhere deep down he cared for his father, even though they didn't have the best of relationships, and so he was rather sensitive about the subject.

Normally, mention of his father alone gave him license to attack the person who was foolish enough to speak Lucius' name, but with Bill, he knew that he hadn't said it out of spite or hate, but genuine curiosity, and so he refrained from hexing him, not to mention he'd get expelled if he did.

The silence grew and became strained, and Draco could feel his muscles tightening at the tension in the room, tighten to the point of almost trembling, but Bill laid a hand on his shoulder. He tried to jerk away, but Bill's hand was authoritative in its grip.

"You don't have to answer, you know," he said, gently. "You can just tell me to shove off if you want. I'm not here to pry, and I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable."

Draco kept his gaze on the papers in front of him, but Bill tapped his shoulder lightly and he looked up automatically. Bill's eyes were kind and understanding.

"Do you want me to change the subject?" he asked, not dropping the topic until Draco actually responded.

Draco knew what he was doing, but he was still surprised at this type of confrontation. Bill was giving him a way out, but he still had to admit that he didn't want to talk about. It was what some psychologists would do, make him admit that he had a problem, but letting him deal with it later because it was too much right then.

He pulled his eyes away from Bill's gaze, looked back down at the papers and nodded.

"I don't know what that means, Draco," said Bill. "You have to say it. What do you want me to do?"

He should have known he wouldn't get away with a non-verbal answer.

"Change the subject," said Draco quietly, and to his credit, Bill didn't say 'Wasn't that easy?' or 'Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?' Instead, he changed the subject.

"Looking forward to the holidays?"

Draco relaxed. "Not really," he said, and continued to speak to distill any remaining tension. "I'm staying here. Narcissa is off who knows where, and Lucius is most likely out of the country."

"You don't celebrate Christmas then?" asked Bill.

"When did when we were still in France," said Draco, "but that was because my grand-mère and relatives were there. When we moved here after my grand-mère died, Lucius had business more often, and Narcissa didn't have a reason to stay for the holidays. Now I just go and buy what I want, and I get reimbursed for it. Bought myself a Firebolt for my birthday last summer, and I may get that new broom this Christmas, the Meteor. It looks pretty fast."

"How long did you live in France?" asked Bill.

"Until I was eight," said Draco.

"Was it hard learning another language like that?"

"Not really," said Draco, "but I am a genius."

Bill laughed at that, and Draco continued.

"It was hard at first having to translate everything that I said, but now it's just automatic. I still sometimes think in French though, do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," said Bill. "Sometimes I get so used to translating things that I write normal letters in runes, and then remember that no one else knows what they mean."

Draco smirked at that, though it was a softer smirk that could be taken as a smile. They worked in companionable silence until the hour was up.

On Friday, everyone was in such an excitable mood because of the holidays that they got very little done in class, and NEWT DADA, which was in the afternoon, was in such an uproar, that Stevick threatened to not pass out the partner quizzes he had graded the other day and give them all T's. He very nearly kept his promise, finally handing out the quizzes as the bell rang to signal the end of class.

Draco had been paired with Granger, and Stevick handed back the quiz to her, and Granger immediately left with Potter and Weasley, no doubt heading to their dorm to pack. As Draco needed to know his grade so that he could keep his E average, he grabbed his bag and ran after her, muttering a curse under his breath.

"Granger!" he yelled after her, seeing her skip down the hall with the other members of the Golden trio at her side. "Granger!"

She stopped and turned, Harry and Ron glowering as he came up to them.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" demanded Ron.

"Nothing from you, Weasel, you couldn't afford anything," said Draco cruelly. "I was talking to Granger."

"Well, you can talk just as fine to us," said Potter, stepping in front of her protectively.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Really, Potty," he sneered. "It's not like I'm going to portkey her to the Dark Lord. I merely want to know what we got on the partner quiz she decided not to show me."

Ron turned to Hermione in disgust. "You were partners with him?" he demanded.

"Yes," said Granger, rather tightly. "You and Harry weren't there that class."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "She didn't tell you?"

"I swear Malfoy," Ron started, his face turning into a threatening scowl. "If you did anything-"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ron," said Hermione, exasperated. "I didn't tell you because then you would have gone all crazy like you are now and would have made things out to be worse than they are."

"But," spluttered Ron, "you were partners with him? What if he had tried something!"

"Or maybe she didn't tell you because she wanted me to try something," suggested Draco, a million connotations in his voice.

"That's disgusting!" cried Hermione. "You sick, perverted pig!"

"Don't worry," said Draco. "I think it's disgusting as well. Just sitting next to you is torture, so what did we get?"

"Like I'm going to tell you after that?" asked Hermione. She whirled around to walk away.

"Granger," Draco started. He really needed to know what he got on that quiz. He reached out and placed a hand on her arm, stopping her from moving, but she screamed at the contact, obviously expecting something worse, and Ron and Harry reacted instantly.

Harry wrenched him away from the girl and shoved him up against the wall. Ron came at him swinging, and Draco simply ducked out of the way, letting Ron's hand smash into the stone. Ron gave a hoarse cry and dropped; Harry launched himself at Draco and the two went tumbling to the floor. Students screamed and gathered around as Draco flipped Harry off of him, and then straddled Harry, who was face down on the floor, and pinned his arm behind his back, jerking it high so that it was near the point of breaking.

"Don't move, Potter," he snarled, "or I will snap your arm like the twig it is."

He didn't notice Ron had recovered until a fist punched him square in the mouth. Draco rolled off of Harry, jumped to his feet, and immediately crouched in a fighting stance. Ron came at him again, not bothering to keep his center of gravity low, and Draco put his self-defense skills into practice.

Rule number ten: Be prepared to fight in all forms of combat.

He vaguely heard shouts to stop, but they were covered by the students half of whom were chanting 'Fight! Fight! Fight!' and the others were yelling on encouragements. A few first years were crying.

He leaned into Ron's attack so that his shoulder hit the other boy's gut. A simple twist of his torso sent the Weasley over his shoulder, and he turned to dodge the punch Harry sent at him. He sent his own punch, connecting with Harry's nose, and Harry grunted and swung back. Potter's fist went over his shoulder, he grabbed the outstretched arm, and with a yank and another twist, sent the Boy-Who-Lived to the ground, but Harry was stronger than he suspected, and it took him a moment more than he calculated to actually get the boy on the ground.

That extra moment meant that Ron, who had picked himself off of the ground, had a clear shot at his face, and he had just turned to see the fist coming and drew his wand, when strong arms caught him up and twisted him away. He could feel the impact of Ron's fist on the arm that was pulling him away, and then McGonagall's sharp voice cut through the chaos.

"Everyone go back to your rooms!" she ordered.

Draco pulled roughly away from the arms and turned to see none other than Bill Weasley staring at him in concern.

"You alright, Draco?" Bill asked.

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Bill had been walking down the hall, getting jostled by students excitedly running to catch up with their friends or hurrying to the dormitories to pack for tomorrow. He had heard a girl scream and tried to run forward, but students immediately began clamoring to get to the source of the commotion.

As he was taller than the average student he was able to make out the blond head of Draco Malfoy being shoved against a wall by Harry. Draco ducked when Ron swung for him, and then jumped Harry and the two tumbled to the ground.

He wasn't able to make out quite what happened, but Ron moved in and Draco got to his feet with blood dripping from his lips. Draco immediately crouched in a fighter's stance while Ron went at him.

"Stop it right there, Ronald!" Bill yelled. "You too, Draco!"

They didn't heed him, or they couldn't hear him over the shouts of the students. Bill began pushing his way forward through the students which was worse than wading through an enchanted bog. He had almost made his way through when Draco sent Harry to the ground, but then Ron took a swing at Draco's face, Draco whipped out his wand, and Bill burst from the crowd, not having time to stop his brother, but managing to wrap his arms around Draco and pull him away from the fight. Ron's fist connected with his arm and he bit back a curse; he would have a bruise there later.

Bill presence caused Ron and Harry to pull up short from attacking Draco again and then McGonagall was there, sending kids to their rooms in a sharp, commanding voice. Draco roughly pushed his arms off and turned to him, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of him.

"You alright, Draco?" Bill asked. Draco just stared, obviously taken off guard as the grey eyes reflected surprise, but then they clouded over again.

"Yeah," said Draco, combing his hand through his hair and straightening the white-blond locks that were, at this point in their growth, decidedly shaggy. Bill had to be impressed that in the four seconds it took Draco to fix his hair, he also went from an adrenaline high from the fight to perfectly composed.

"Your lip is bleeding," Bill pointed out as he doubted that Draco realized it.

Draco reached up to touch his split lip and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand completely nonchalantly.

McGonagall ushered the four students into an empty class, and then gestured Bill in as well. He closed the door behind them and listened to McGonagall rant.

"This behavior is completely shocking, and two of you are Prefects at that. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, and fifty points off Slytherin, and a hundred off of Gryffindor. Now I want to know exactly what happened, and you had better pray that your actions don't cause me to take away your Prefects' badges as well."

It was apparent that his younger brother was outraged at that.

"A hundred points, Professor!" he objected.

"Fifty for each of you," said McGonagall. "Now what exactly happened?"

"Malfoy attacked Hermione," said Ron, glaring at the blond.

"I see," said McGonagall. "Bill, perhaps you would like to try your hand at getting to the bottom of your first school-hall brawl as an instructor?"

Bill looked at her, startled, but she just gave him an encouraging smile.

"Draco," said Bill. "What happened?"

The blond looked up from languidly studying his nails, obviously startled that Bill would ask his side of the story.

"I wanted to know my grade on the partner quiz Stevick handed back. I confronted Granger, insults were exchanged, and then Potter and Weasley here attacked me," he said, shrugging as if it really didn't matter.

"You hurt Hermione!" Ron accused.

"She was walking away," said Draco. "I reached out to stop her. That was it."

Bill turned to the girl who was biting her lip nervously.

"Hermione?" he asked.

"He didn't hurt me," she allowed. "I was startled and I screamed."

"I think we over-reacted," said Harry, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"I think so too," said McGonagall gravely. "Harry, Ron, two weeks of detention when you get back, Malfoy, you will have to go home over break."

"Can't," said Draco, returning his gaze to his fingernails, and looking extremely bored.

"What do you mean 'can't'?" asked McGonagall rather sharply.

Draco heaved a sigh, as if upset that he actually had to take the effort of explaining and drew his gaze to the teachers.

"Mother is abroad for the holidays, and Father, due to recent circumstances, is away as well. The Manor is empty for the holidays and as I am still a minor, you can't send me home unsupervised."

"Apparently you can't stay here unsupervised without drawing your wand on your classmates," said McGonagall.

The grey eyes flashed once, but it was almost imperceptible.

"Yes, well most people do have a desire to avoid grievous bodily harm," Draco drawled.

McGonagall frowned, but ignored the comment. "Are you sure that your parents cannot be contacted?"

"Quite," said Draco shortly, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand.

"Decided that they can't stand you either, Malfoy?" asked Ron.

"Ronald, shut it," said Bill, thinking. "Draco, since you can't go home, but because you can't be entirely unsupervised, you'll be having detention over break with Hagrid, he could always use an extra hand."

Something unreadable flickered in the grey eyes, and then was gone; Bill continued.

"You'll join him after lunch each day, except for Christmas. Now Hermione, could you please tell Draco his grade?"

"O," said Hermione.

"Good," said Bill. "Now you are dismissed and no more fighting."

The 'Golden Trio', as Draco called them, left, and McGonagall did too, smiling approvingly at him. Draco stayed with a determined look on his face. Once the door swung shut, Bill turned to him.

"What was that?" he asked, referring to Draco's bored act.

"What was that?" Draco repeated, incredulous. "What was that?" he returned, gesturing to Bill angrily. "I can't be unsupervised? I'm a bloody genius and you think that I can't be alone for two weeks? I've spent entire summers home alone!"

"You drew your wand," said Bill evenly.

"They bloody started it!" said Draco.

"And you were going to escalate it," said Bill. "And you know that the punishment is completely fair, so don't even try to blame me."

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but checked himself and composed himself in a second flat. "I suppose," he said grudgingly. "But Hagrid?"

"What about him?" asked Bill.

"He's so…stupid," said Draco, getting a look of disgust on his face.

"You don't like him," said Bill. "Why?"

"He's unrefined and coarse and…I don't know," said Draco, getting frustrated with his inability to communicate the reason of his revulsion.

"Is it because he's half-giant?" asked Bill, and Draco actually looked a little affronted.

"No," he said. "It's just that…I was probably smarter than him when I was two, and for him to be a teacher when I'm smarter is ridiculous!"

"Draco," said Bill, "you're smarter than every teacher here."

Draco blinked at him, as if he had never thought of that before.

"You're smarter than me," said Bill. "Do you dislike me?"

"I want to," said Draco, more honestly than he obviously intended, because his eyes darkened and he looked away.

Bill ignored that remark, but filed it away for further contemplation. "I know that Hagrid can come off as slow, maybe even stupid, but you can't just look at the words that come out of his mouth. Just, try to look a little deeper, alright? That's all I ask."

"Fine," Draco muttered, still not meeting his gaze, but his whole body was straining with tension and his fingers flew in that 1-3-2-4 pattern.

"Thank you," said Bill sincerely, "and now enough about that. What exactly were you doing with McGonagall?"

"What?" asked Draco, turning to look at him.

"The whole 'checking your nails' thing," said Bill, and Draco smirked slightly.

"It's how I annoy McGonagall," he said. "The whole 'I-am-so-much-better-than-this-I-am-not-even-going-to-pay-attention attitude' really gets to her."

"I could tell," said Bill. "You can really get them to hate you."

Draco looked slightly pleased at that. "It's a gift," he said, and Bill just shook his head.

"I was actually looking for you before your little tussle in the hall," said Bill.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah," said Bill, pulling out a small box from the pocket of his robes. He tossed it to Draco, who caught it, and stared at the green paper.

"You bought me a Christmas present?" he said, sounding both amused and surprised at the same time.

"Well, you had to have one that you didn't pay for yourself," said Bill. "In fact, I seriously doubt that you'd be able to buy that particular present at all. It's not really in the shops. Well, Happy Christmas," he said, not waiting for a 'thank you' since Draco hardly ever showed gratitude and he didn't really want a thank you if it meant that Draco would feel uncomfortable. He headed for the door and pulled it open.

"There's no 'Wait until Christmas to open'?" Draco called after him.

Bill turned, and as he was a spy and used to noticing details, he had become rather adept at reading the imperceptible changes in the grey eyes, even though Draco's face was perfectly composed. There was confusion in Draco's eyes, but it was more than confusion, it was an uncertainty that bordered on panic, as if Draco had finally come up against something that he truly did not understand,

"No," said Bill, knowing that while Draco didn't understand it now, in time he would. He was a genius, remember, and that meant there was hope for the kid after all. He gave Draco a boyish grin. "It takes away the fun."

He left, leaving the blond teenager staring after him.

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Yay for Bill! Now, if you liked the chapter or if you are wearing blue jeans, you need to review. Don't hate me if it takes awhile for the next chapter, I've got a bundle of work to do, stupid profs, lol.