Better To Lie To You With, M'dear.

Obviously, I haven't been writing in a while, so I didn't notice how short the last chapter was! Yes, and I know its pureblood inbreeding, silly. That's the way it's meant to be. And, on we go.

At the reminder of her forthcoming doom, she, Anabelle Leigh Granger-Black, sighed and pulled her hair into a bun and bit her pinky nail. A shaggy strand of her hair, coming slightly unstraightened by the stress she was under, curled behind her ear. The loud gasp Draco had made was reverberating throughout the tiny room Dumbledore would've liked to have stayed more private.

"What Draco? Surprised? I wouldn't have thought so. Even your mother was a Black. Your father can vouch for how irresistible we are." She sighed and rolled her shoulders knowingly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Weasley to find. And" she narrowed her eyes, "give a talking to. Pardonnez-moi." And she brushed by Draco, sending a tingle up his arm again.

…………………………………………………

Meanwhile, the Weasley in question, Mister Ronald Weasley, was sitting playing footsies with his good friend Harry Potter in Potions. Even though neither of them knew, or rather, they knew or just didn't want to admit, that their little trysts in the common room made both of them feel sufficiently better. Maybe, also, Ron didn't want to admit that maybe he was going to have to let go of Hermione, who, acting as weird as she had, was still the love of his life. No matter how interested in Blaise she might act, or actually be, he knew that he had first dibs on Hermione, and even Harry didn't come before her. The only person that came before Hermione was his own mother.

Anyways, Hermione was furiously scribbling on a scrap sheet of parchment and passing it to Blaise when the teacher wasn't looking. Blaise, who had just returned to class sans Draco, was acting a tad bit weird. He had a small twitch in his left eye, and he seemed paler than usual, his dark hair gleaming with hints of blonde. Almost as blonde as Draco's.

"Now class, remember to study for those NEWT's in a few weeks- it could decide your future career path or leave you in a ruin." After brushing over the stack of papers he had in his hands, he waved them out to go enjoy the slowly warming afternoon. "Shoo. I need to start grading these. Vamoose."

Ron lumbered out of the classroom, still a tad bit sleepy. He had no recollection of the past hour and a half, and was extremely hungry. Maybe Dobby would grab him something from the kitchens. He passed Harry and Hermione without a word, and slowly made his way out the door, pulling on his newest and greatest Weasley creation yet, a black sweatshirt, like a Muggle, with a zipper and RON in bright yellow on the front. Without it's hideousness, it was quite comfortable. Now, from what he had heard from Harry, Hermione's sister was in town. And if Hermione's sister was in town…

Suddenly he was lifted off of his feet, his cold butt touching the freezing ground, a warm hand around his neck. "Ronald, you and I need to have a little…" she paused venomously, "chat."

Groaning as she let go of his neck and lifted him up by the scruff of his white button down polo- for she was strong for such a petite woman- he put a smirk on and said, "Ello Belle. Don't kill me yet. Just let me-"

"Let you what? Lead poor Harry on? Or dear married Hermione? Non oui, sir. You and I are going to seriously"- she paused for a moment, for he was much taller than she had remembered, "chat."