Malfoy was slumped in a chair, the flickering firelight illuminating his features. His silver blond hair was swept back from his brooding eyes, which dwelled upon the dancing flames. He didn't notice the creaking of the common room door as it swung open, or the swift steps upon the stone floor.

"You have got some serious explaining to do," Blaise hissed in to his ear, shoving him sideways in the chair.

"What are you rambling on about now Blaise?"

"The Weasley girl just kissed me,"

"She what?"

"She just kissed..."

"No, idiot, I heard what you said; I was just struggling to understand. Where? When?"

"Just now, outside,"

"What where you doing outside?"

"Trying to figure something out."

"What?"

"I said, I was trying to..."

"Yes, I heard you the first time, I'm not in my fucking dotage!"

Blaise stalked round to stand in front of Malfoy, hands on hips, glaring down at him.

"Something is not right here, and it has something to do with you, and that blood traitor,"

Malfoy saw the light.

"You kissed her back!"

"I, no I, wait what?"

"You're blushing,"

"Well, for one moment. But then I pushed her away,"

"What did she say to you?"

"She said that she could help me,"

Blaise looked down at the opulent rug beneath his boots. Malfoy felt the first stirrings of unease.

"And did she?"

"No, that's when she kissed me,"

Hah, Malfoy gloated inwardly, but his face remained impassive, a cold impression, carved in the smoothest marble.

"But, for a moment, I felt like I could trust her, that she was really trying to help me,"

Blaise's face fell, and he ran his fingers through his hair, glancing around him for a seat. He dragged another armchair closer to the fire, and sat.

"She was just trying to steal a kiss from you,"

"But, she sounded so sincere,"

"Yeah, whatever,"

The frown returned to Blaise's forehead.

"Something has happened Malfoy, and it involves you and her. I'm not stupid."

Mores the pity, Malfoy thought.

"Whenever I'm around that Weasley, she looks at me like I should know her, and that's another thing. The mudblood, Granger. She will not stop glaring!"

"You are a Slytherin, she is a Gryffindor. She is hardly going to greet you with a cheery smile every time she sees you. Maybe you beat her in a test or something."

"She glares at me like I have done something personal against her, and yet I'm sure I've never even spoken to her before!"

Malfoy avoided his friends gaze.

"Tell me,"

***

"Ginny, what's up?"

"Nothing,"

"We both know that that is not true,"

"Leave me alone,"

"Has someone hurt you?"

"Yes,"

"Oh, well, I have some plaster type spells in my first aid book, "

"It's not something you can bandage up,"

"Ginny..."

"Lucy, please, just let me sleep,"

"Well, Ok then. But you know where I am,"

Waiting until Ginny had pulled the covers over her head, Lucy crept out of bed and up the stairs to the senior girls' dormitory. She needed Hermione.