Author's Notes: Just a short chapter this time I'm afraid, because the next one is very long! It just didn't make sense to split them any other way.

Chapter 12: Snape

Two days. Two days since she'd admitted that she didn't hate him.

They still bickered. She still drove him crazy and she still didn't seem to like him very much, but she had given him another blowjob.

It had been even better than the first. And since the first had been extremely good that made the second one nothing short of incredible. Pretty damn perfect in fact. It was definitely up there as the best blowjob he'd ever received. He was hoping for a repeat at some point in the future.

He was in the living room waiting for her to come back, with absolutely no intention of fucking her for once, when she stumbled through the door, eyes red and chest heaving in a way that made it very clear she'd been crying.

"What the…" He started forwards, intending to pull her into his arms until he realised exactly what he was doing and caught himself. "What's the matter?" he asked instead, staring at her helplessly.

"My father," she gasped.

He felt his heart constrict. Was the man dead? He could easily imagine him being killed as a blood traitor.

"Over Christmas," she gasped, "I let it slip about my living arrangements and he's written to Snape."

What the hell? Draco jerked backwards in confusion and frowned hard at her. His look seemed to calm her down because she sniffed hard and wiped her eyes, looking suddenly a lot younger than she was as she pressed her fingers to her temples.

"You remember what I said about him not even liking me speaking to boys?" Her voice was steadier now and she pulled herself together a little more, looking him in the eyes with a rueful smile, "Well imagine what his opinion is of me sharing a bathroom with one."

Draco opened his mouth to ask exactly what he'd said in his letter when the door was swung open and a very angry looking Snape entered, shocking Draco because he barely saw the man around the school usually. He seemed to be keeping himself to himself this year, letting the Carrows do the dirty work for him.

"Miss Fawley there is no excuse for that behaviour," he said, letting the door shut behind him and completely ignoring the fact that Draco was standing there gaping at them both, "I shall let it slide only because I am aware that the situation is ridiculous. Now perhaps you can explain to me the real reasons behind your father's concerns." He held out a piece of parchment and glanced briefly at it. "He seems to be under the impression that you are spending your nights sleeping in the Head Boy's bed."

"I'm not sleeping in his bed!" she gasped, her cheeks reddening as she lowered her eyes to the floor.

Snape raised his eyebrows, looking more surprised than Draco had ever seen him. He couldn't help the sudden snort of laughter that escaped from his throat, both at the accusation and at Isabelle's reaction to it.

"You sound like you're lying Isabelle," he drawled, by way of explanation, when they both looked at him, Isabelle in horror, Snape in annoyance.

"I'm not lying!" She had practically shouted the words, which didn't really help her case.

"I'm well aware that you aren't lying Isabelle. I very much enjoy having my bed to myself thank you, but he doesn't know that." He nodded towards Snape. "If you're this bad at the truth I don't even want to see you trying to tell a lie."

His words had the desired effect on Snape at least, who pursued the letter again with renewed disbelief and regarded Isabelle coldly.

"Your father demands that I move you into a separate room, or that alternatively you go back to the Ravenclaw Tower."

"That's ridiculous!" Isabelle seemed to have recovered enough now to actually put up some sort of defence. "If I have my own rooms what's to stop me having sex in them anyway? And if I go back to the tower I'm surrounded by boys. Maybe we'll even have an orgy. Who knows what could happen? Don't you think I'm safer here with a Slytherin boy who would never touch someone with a muggle parent?"

Actually she was quite good at the lying Draco reflected as he snorted with laughter again, because seriously, she'd just told the Head that she might just indulge in some group sex if he sent her back to the place she'd been residing for six years and that was more than enough to warrant laughter.

So did the look on Snape's face.

Once the shock had faded his mouth tightened into a thin line and his black eyes glittered dangerously.

"Very well Miss Fawley. I shall convey an appropriate reply to your father and deny his request, unless Mr Malfoy has any objections to the arrangements?" He turned to Draco now, who folded his arms and regarded him coolly.

"If I had any complaints I'd have made them by now," he drawled, before turning to Isabelle, "By the way, your mudblood sister is here."

"Don't call her- what?!" As his words sank in Isabelle turned on cue just as Kiera appeared from the kitchen eating an apple and grinning in the way only an eleven year old who's just heard far more about sex than she should have done can. Draco wasn't sure if Isabelle or Snape were more put out by this turn of events.

"I found her hanging around in the corridor outside, so I let her in and gave her an apple," he said coolly, enjoying the looks of surprise on both their faces at this news, "And fascinating as this discussion of your sexual habits is sweetheart I've got things to do, so if you'll excuse me." He turned and went to his bedroom, listening vaguely to Snape make some closing remarks before he took his leave.

It was over an hour later before Kiera left and Draco had spent most of it pacing restlessly around his room, wondering if Isabelle was ever going to forgive him for calling her sister a Mudblood.

Also he'd called her sweetheart in front of the Headmaster and that probably hadn't gone down too well with either Isabelle or Snape.

The moment he heard the outside door close behind her sister, Draco flung open his own door and shot out into the living area, crying out in surprise when Isabelle met him coming the other way and flung her arms around him, burying her face in his chest and letting out a muffled noise which sounded somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

He didn't know what it was so he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, willing for once to forgo his whole not doing anything emotional in favour of showing her just how glad he was that she hadn't chosen to leave. Because she could have done. She could quite easily have told Snape she hated him and that she'd much rather have her own rooms. Then she'd have been rid of him and his annoying habits and he was pretty sure that without him there to tease and flirt she'd have forgotten all about fucking him pretty quickly and would have found some nice little Ravenclaw boy to have a proper relationship with.

He didn't care why she hadn't. It was enough that she hadn't.

Scary.

There were no words. Just her lips on his kissing him desperately and hands clawing at clothes and then at skin as they tumbled naked onto the couch, still kissing frantically. Draco joined their hips, and rocked against her urgently, sending them both spiralling to the dizzy heights of orgasm where the whole stupid incident was washed away and they were Draco and Isabelle again. Two people who bickered and fucked and might one day get bored of the whole thing and go and find themselves someone else.

Draco couldn't imagine being bored of this.

Afterwards when his head had stopped spinning Draco gazed into her eyes and tried to find some words because he couldn't – wouldn't, say he was sorry.

"I always fantasised about having sex in the shower you know." That was Isabelle. He had no idea why she'd suddenly said it now of all times, or why it should be that her fantasy exactly matched his own, but he smirked anyway.

"I'm sure that can be arranged sometime sweetheart," he drawled, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with post-orgasmic bliss. She smirked back at him before rolling him over and giving him another of those kisses she liked to indulge in after sex. They were very Isabelle those kisses, he decided when their lips finally parted and she stood up to gather her clothes.

He watched until she wandered back to her bedroom and then gathered up his own clothes and hurried back to his.

Perfect.