A/N: Sorry about the delay on this one. I've had a mental two months and am now in a different hemisphere and back in College.

Anyway, please do keep the reviews coming. I really want to hear your thoughts and ideas on the story so far. Who you like/dislike etc… they are my muse!

The weather was miserable the following morning. The kind of spit-like rain that fell made you never want to leave the confines of your bed again. However there was magic to learn and with a hateful groan at the unfairness of life in general I hollowly went about my day.

There was no meeting of the boys at lunch, Blaise sat alone, his eyes trained forward but not really seeing anything ahead. Draco and Theo were nowhere to be seen. Draco was readying last minute trial preparations and Theo went to hide under a rock somewhere. Daphne mentioned that he refused to be within twenty feet of his best friends on this particular day of the year.

We were given a particularly difficult alchemy assignment that held my concentration between the end of class and when I was to meet Draco. Only just realising the lateness of the hour I had to make a mad dash back down to my room before heading to the Quidditch pitch, making it with a mere minute to spare.

I needn't have worried. When I arrived at four fifty-nine that afternoon the Trials were still in full swing. The large group of about fifty Slytherins were grouped in threes and fours, though that's where the organisation fell apart. Some chattered animatedly but not paying the slightest bit of attention to what was going on while others argued headedly over a point or manoeuvre in the air. Most had their feet firmly on the ground the minority of most likely first and second years were flying three feet about the field but had their entire bodies coiled around their brooms as if their lives depended on it.

My eyes sought out a platinum head and found it somewhere near the centre gracefully perched on his own Nimbus 2001 and staring down at them all as if he'd just apparated into the fiery pits of hell.

I didn't smile… at least I tried not to.

"No, no I meant – damnit Avery, if you don't hold that bat tighter I'm going to hit you over the head with it!"

The Malfoy heir seemed to have been bellowing for the better part of the trials, his voice cracking slightly from over-use, his pale cheeks taking on the slightest flush clearly showing the extent of his frustration.

Taking in the rest of is tense and infuriated state I decided that nicotine alone wouldn't help us this evening. Standing once more and picking up my things I walked briskly back to the castle, returning to my room and after only a few minutes rooting through my trunk I pulled out what I was looking for before turning back out the way I came. On reaching the pitch the second time I was met with a queue of mumbling wind-swept Quidditch hopefuls – though I could probably count on one hand the number of faces that looked truly 'hopeful'.

I found the tired captain in the changing rooms. He seemed to be taking out his immediate frustration on his gear-bag, stuffing all the protective padding with such force I thought the seams would soon burst. I couldn't help but watch him for a few moments. The tense set of his shoulders and bruising grip of his pale knuckles. It once again struck me how people our age shouldn't be this troubled, or be put in situations they're not truly comfortable with, just like the young man in front of me.

Taking into account I was probably staring for a longer time than truly necessary I cleared my throat audibly, watching the pale blonde stiffen further, freezing for a moment before returning to his task.

"I thought you left," he said, making me a little relieved. For a moment I thought he was going to ignore me, though from the icy tone he used I was sure I wasn't far off.

"I decided my Bensen's wouldn't be enough to ease this much of a stressful afternoon." I approached him a little warily before raising the bottle of fire-whiskey I held tightly in my right fist. "So I brought back-up."

His stony grey eyes scanned the bottle before smirking lightly. I took that as a good sign and internally patted myself on the back. Social situations were definitely becoming more naturally to me. I was starting to read him better, though to be fair I simply went on instinct that alcohol was what I would have wanted in his current mood and assumed he was no different.

I guess we're more alike than I gave him credit for.

Draco slung his bag over his shoulder then, pulling me out of my thoughts. "To the Room of Requirement then?"

The question was even enough, though once again I felt myself knowing him better now. The last thing he wanted was to go to the place where his whole life began to crumble.

"Actually, I've had enough of stairs," I found myself saying, trying to gauge his reaction. He simply stared back at me neutrally. "Maybe we could just sit out on the field?"

"It's a bit cold," was his only reply, one pale brow raised questioning.

"We can weave magic Malfoy," I answered wryly before striding back out towards the grass. "I'm sure we'll think of something."

Three heating charms later found us lying flat on our backs staring at the stars. Draco had laid his cloak out for us and we took it in turns gulping the fire-whiskey in between puffs of smoke. It didn't take long for the blissful numbness and lightness to kick in. I sighed contentedly, turning my head to watch my companion. He'd tucked one arm behind his head, allowing his pale bicep to almost glow in the moonlight but shading half his face in the process.

"Why did you bother?" I asked curiously.

He didn't meet my gaze. "Bother with what?"

"Becoming Quidditch captain."

"I love Quidditch," was his dull reply.

"Alright," I could only dilute my disbelieving tone. "But you hate being Captain. It's been written all over your face his evening." When he didn't answer right away I put a few more pieces together. "Is it because of your Dad?"

Suddenly his eyes bored into mine and had I not been half-way drunk I would have flinched at their coldness. "You don't have a clue what you're talking about. Drop it."

But I ignored the heat in his tone, instead I stared back up at the stars and continued my theory. "It makes sense I guess, I remember he was always getting on your case about losing to Potter. And if he was anything like my Purebred Pops he'd want you to be the highest ranking in anything you do; that includes Quidditch."

I think he decided to ignore me because my musings were met with silence.

"Chess." The word popped into my head and was out my mouth before I could summon it back.

"What?" At least part of the anger had leaked out of his voice, it was more wary in that moment.

"I used to love wizard's chess. There was something about the silent battle of two minds that contrasted the loud crashing of pieces breaking each other. It seemed to ease my over-active thoughts. I got quite good at it too. The second my dad found out he started to pressure me, force me to practice against him, against myself. Hours of chess that I would have done anyway became hours of him watching me, shouting if I made bad judgment or not anticipating my opponent's next move. Any joy or interest I'd once had for it leaked away. I haven't willingly sat at a chess board since." I turned to find him watching me, his face portraying mostly wariness but there was a touch of curiosity too. I could read him better with when he had some drugs in his system. "That's Quidditch for you right?"

He broke my gaze again, taking his time with the next pull of his cigarette. "I still like it," he answered. "The speed, the adrenaline, the skill. Sometimes, when I'm up there flying at top speed I remember what it was like to really love it. But it's faded… just like you said."

"You didn't have to be captain to feel that way."

He smiled then, the tiniest tilt of his lips but it was genuine and before I knew it I was smiling back. "He never thought I could do it… make captain, prefect, any of it. I was only ever as good as my last failure."

"But you did. You've more accomplishments than I do, I'm impressed."

"That's only because you don't want any accomplishments. You never have." It was my turn to not answer, my focus returned to the sky, I could just start to make out dusting of clouds obscuring the stars when he spoke again. "Anything that gets you noticed you avoid, right?"

"I don't know what you mean," I lied.

"Please," he called me on it. The bastard. "Don't try and feed me the shit you pull with everyone else. You can tell me."

"I don't –"

"You've been hiding almost your entire life and you're good at it, but my question is –"

"Draco –"

"Come on just tell me –"

"You don't understand –"

"Then explain it to me –"

"I can't." My voice broke which I cursed myself for, a blush part from anger and part embarrassment coloured my cheeks. "I'm not going to explain the way I've lived my life just to satisfy your curiosity."

"Fine." Funny how he didn't sound fine. "But you'll tell me, if not for my curiosity than for something else."

"And what is that?" I suddenly felt really tired.

"Yourself. No one can handle what you've been through alone."

I swallowed, hard and then did it again for good measure as I felt his words truly affect me. It was both frustrating and terrifying that I could feel my walls cracking. I focused hard on blinking the water out of my eyes and clearing my throat.

"You don't know what you're talking about," I whispered. Astonishing me further I felt the ghost of his finger-tips against my knuckles. I stiffened, the feeling of drowning consuming me. I didn't know where to look, how to react how to feel about this whole, terrible situation. It was too much too –

"I think choosing beaters this year just might kill me," I turned to stare at my companion, startled and once more sure I'd missed something. He'd relaxed back into his original position not meeting my eyes. I watched as he relit his cigarette and inhaled deeply, letting loose the smoke leisurely just as I taught him. "You sure you can't hold a bat?"

Despite my scrambling I couldn't help but laugh. "What is with you and Zambini? No way in hell would you want me up there. I'd sooner bludgeon myself than anything else."

"Well, at least you'd give them a show."

And before I quite understood what happened, we were jesting once more. The moment almost forgotten despite me being close to spiralling. Not that I minded – the change in subject couldn't have come any later without consequences but that didn't appease my irritation with my blonde house-mate.

He was just so frustrating. Acting one way and before I can adapt he does a one eighty. I could never pin down one mood or emotion. It hit me then that it was almost the exact same thing he said about me. Neither of us could predict the other.

I was still debating on our way back to the castle, the thoughts which churned in my mind silencing all other conversation. I would have barely noticed had my companion not pointed it out.

"You're quiet all of a sudden."

I blinked a dew times before turning to him, a little sheepish. "Sorry. I was thinking."

"About what I said?" Before I could answer he fired another question. "Did I hit a nerve?"

"Maybe," I allowed him that, just because he knew the answer already.

"Good." I shot him a glare. "You need your feathers ruffled. I'm glad something phases you."

"A lot of things phase me," I murmured. "And you're not one to talk Malfoy! You preen your feathers almost hourly."

"Yes but I've already told you how your very presence ruffles me," the smirk was back thank Merlin. I could deal with the smirk. I understood the smirk. "I better thank you though."

We'd just come to the end of the corridor where we had to part to our separate rooms. "For what?" My tone was more than cautious, it was wary.

"Distracting me. After today I needed it. The whiskey, the smokes… the conversation."

"Oh. Your welcome then, I guess."

His grin widened, revealing white teeth that almost glowed in the dim lighting. His eyes shone in a way that caused me to nervously tuck my hair behind my ears, anything to try and inconspicuously hide my face.

"Do I make you nervous?" He sounded both amused and curious. He took a step forward causing a hasty retreat on my part. Cursing myself that my actions wouldn't back-up my answer.

"Of course not. Don't flatter yourself. G-Goodnight Malfoy."

I only barely heard him repeat the words to me. Instead a turned my heel and strode quickly away from him, begging my heart to stop racing and my brain to stop trying to figure out what was happening.

Autumn slipped into winter before I could blink. Between classes and homework I never felt there were enough hours in the day. On top of that my social life was becoming frustrating to fit in, not that I minded. I looked forward to the slow evenings in the Slytherin common room, talking and reclined in the leather couches. The perks of being friends with the likes of Draco and Blaise: students moved to allow you to sit.

I actually began to call them that… friends.

My budding relationship with Michael Corner also continued to grow. If I could even call it that. I was confused more than ninety present of the time despite Pansy and Daphne's detailed tutoring. They would grill me after every so-called 'date'. I preferred to call them long conversations outside of class or late night study sessions that lacked in any actual study. Asking me 'how he said this' or 'did he look at you like that' didn't seem especially important to me but then again, what did I know?

He hadn't tried anything physical, which was my main source of confusion. Surely if you're in a relationship with a boy they would have at least kissed you after a few weeks? Daphne was under the impression that he was taking it slow with me. When I asked her why she said he was trying to be sensitive towards my… slightly abrasive social tendencies.

I tried to be affronted but it made sense really…

So it was to my complete surprise when the boy in question strode up to me after lunch one Friday afternoon. While I was with my friends no less. I was in the midst of talking Theo through our charms assignment when the young Slytherin stopped midstride, indicating that I looked in front. It was then my gaze was met with those familiar dark blue irises.

"Hey," Corner said, one side of his mouth rising into his classic one-dimpled grin.

"Hi," I tried to smile back and not fidget as the group watched our exchange. I could almost feel Daphne holding her breath on my other side.

"So our match is this evening… against Hufflepuff."

He seemed to wait for a response so after only a minor falter on my part I answered: "Right! Yeah, Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff… tonight." I thought I heard a muffled snort from my right but I chose to ignore Blaise's reaction. The bastard.

Michael's grin turned to a full on smile and I suddenly thought that dimples should be outlawed.

"Yeah. I was wondering if you'd come?"

"To your Quidditch match?" I couldn't help but sound a little startled.

"Yeah."

"But… won't you be playing?" Why oh Merlin why did I sound so incompetent?

"Well… yeah but to support me. And if we win there'll be an after party. Lots of alcohol."

"What if you lose?"

"There'll still be lots of alcohol."

"I dunno…" I felt myself biting my lip. I couldn't think this through and I always thought everything through. Why did he have to spring this on me? In front of my friends no less?

"Come on," he pressed. "It'll be fun! And you'll get to meet my friends, they'll sit in the stands with you. I promise if you're even the slightest bit bored I'll hold no grudge if you leave."

I bit my lip, really wanting to decline until I was struck with the damn dimples again. Those, along with a not-so-subtle nudge from the cursed blonde beside me and the words left my mouth before I could stop them.

"Alright then."

"Great!" He said with a brilliant smile, shocking me further he leaned forward to press his lips to my cheek before disappearing through the crowd, leaving me standing frozen in a slight state of shock.

"Well…" Pansy broke the silence. "That was a development."

"He's so cute," Daphne breathed longingly.

"Alyssa's game however… has left a lot to be desir –"

"Shut up Blaise," I snapped and strode forward, quick to jump on the temper train rather than focus on the ball of nerves that was coiling in my stomach.

"And he wants you to meet his friends," Daphne kept up easily with my heated stride. "This is a good thing."

"Yes," I couldn't hold off on the sarcasm. "One Slytherin amongst a sea of Ravenclaws… sounds promising."

"You'll be fine. Corner won't let anything happen to you."

"And if he does," Blaise's tone turned dark, I turned to the see the three boys in the group staring down at me. If I didn't know the threatening stances weren't against me I would have shrunk back. Even Draco had a certain heat in his eyes. "He will regret it."

"Thanks…" the word was breathy but what I hope was filled with how grateful I was.

"We're you're friends Blackthorne," Draco said wryly. "I wish you'd stop doubting us."

And with that he left in the direction of the Grand staircase. Leaving the rest of us staring surprised at his retreating form. None of us seemed to be able to respond to the Malfoy heir's unexpected outburst. But a part of me was doubly grateful for that.