I bit my lip, feeling completely awkward as I kneeled in the hallway, glancing around to see if anyone would notice me. I was in the dungeons, so the only people coming down here would be Slytherins. But that would be the worst - it's not just a stereotype, Slytherins have earned their reputation as the nastiest people in the school, though I'll admit Hufflepuff is more gossipy.

For my detention, Professor Wiggins ordered me to clean the entire passageway leading to the potions room. It is dark, dank, I don't feel very comfortable, and I'm not allowed to use magic, making this all a rather evil detention. If Professor Wiggins is smart about one thing, it's just how to use a detention to his advantage. Last year he made me catch all of Hagrid's slugs. I absolutely despise slime, and those slugs were stickier than rubber cement.

And now he's got me trapped in the one part of the school where I am least welcome, and he has me cleaning without magic in between all the little cracks in the bloody stone. It's driving me crazy, and every now and then he comes out and tsks.

I swear, he knows how weird I am about clean floors, just like he knew I get freaked out by slime. Professor Wiggins freaking stalks me so that he can better punish me whenever I do something wrong.

"Well, this was never a sight I expected to see," I heard someone mutter from the end of the hallway. I'd just fallen down onto my hands, and was quite aware that my grass-free butt was quite exposed, despite the fact that I'd covered up with my long black robe. "Darling, quite a compromising position, aye."

I recognized the voice now as it made its way down the hall, attached to a very gorgeous yet completely evil incarnate body. If there is anyone I hated more than Tom or Wood or Wiggins, it was Brendon Phillips, Susan's twin brother and Tom's bestest buddy since who knows when.

I owe my entire relationship with Tom to Brendon - he's always been such a jerk to me that Tom was extremely kind to me in comparison, and whenever I took a break from the States went over to visit Susan during the summer, I would rely on Tom to keep Brendon in line, and also to hang out with me when Susan was busy with whatever. Eventually, we started dating, and viola - one very evil Brendon equals one two year relationship.

I don't know how he's related to one of my best friends.

I grit my teeth as I heard him say my name - I like my name. It's actually done a lot to raise my self-esteem and such, because everyone calls me darling. But the way Brendon says it - it's always sounded so condescending, so old-school, like I'm a house wife. It doesn't help at all that I'm scrubbing a floor.

"Well, Brady-bear," I said, using his mother's rather picturesque nickname for him, "I understand you've never seen a girl on her knees before, but I thought we've talked about this - plenty of girls will think you're handsome after the surgery."

"Really?" Brendon leaned down next to me, his breath slightly sour and haughty next to my ear, "Because rumor has it that you think I'm pretty handsome right now."

"Damn, you're a Slytherin," I rolled my eyes. He was actually a lot like Draco Malfoy - only less pointy looking and more buff. He's a beater on the Quidditch team, so aerodynamics, or whatever it was that kept Draco so skinny, wasn't a concern for him.

"What do you mean?"

"You're so ambitious you're hearing things," I exclaimed, sounding a fake-jubilant. I will give one thing to Brendon - he always makes for a great joke. He just walks straight into them - he isn't even stupid, he just doesn't think anyone would dare make fun of him. It's not a good quality, I realize, but that's why I give it to him so easily.

He shook his head, "I don't see why you're fighting it - everyone knows why you broke up with Tom."

"Yeah, you most of all, you're his best friend. I cheated on him, we broke up."

I was starting to get weirded out now, he's got this really freaky look in his eye, and Professor Wiggins won't be out for another fifteen minutes to disapprove of my work. That and, you know, Quidditch beaters aren't exactly known for their peaceful and Quakerly ways.

"Yes, and that boy's name was Brendon."

"I thought his name was Rick," I said, holding my scrub brush close to my lips as I poised in a thinking position, "It definitely began with an R. Or maybe a W."

"Brendon has an R."

"It's a stretch."

"I'm willing to stretch for you," Brendon whispered sexily, and I turned my eyes fearfully towards him, dodging his hand when he reached up to pet me.

"Brendon, I think it was time for you to leave."

"Well, I don't know if-"

"You heard the lady." Brendon and I both turned simultaneously to see Wood standing at the end of the hallway, where Brendon had spotted me only moments before.

"Excuse me?" Brendon was used to my jokes, and had learned to ignore them, but he also had issues dealing with direct orders. That's why he's team captain - if anyone else dare to tell him what to do, he might die.

"Scoot, or you'll get a detention of your own, for harassing a student."

Brendon eyed Wood carefully before turning to hiss at me, "I never believed Tom when he said there was something fishy going on between you two. Expect this to get out."

...

Why does everyone think I'm in love with Oliver freaking Wood?! Oh god, I'm gonna pull my hair out.

I glared at Wood as Brendon walked away, waiting for him to turn the corner, "Why did you do that?"

Wood looked at me strangely, "Sorry, I didn't know that no suddenly meant yes."

"I can take care of myself," I assured my professor as I stood to walk and tell Professor Wiggins that my detention was over and that I was going.

"Ah, Miss Darling," Professor Wiggins said as he opened the door, "And Wood, how unexpected to see you two together."

The potions master smiled wryly at me. JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH! COME ON, WIGGINS! "Professor, my time is up, I was coming to tell you that I have to leave."

Professor Wiggins took a step out to observe the floors, "With this performance, Darling, you'll deserve another detention."

"Yeah, fine, whatever," I said, crossing my arms and looking around, trying to fight my very picky OCD tendency to scrub a floor until it not only shined, but glared painfully with it's shine, effectively blinding my enemies.

I ran a hand through my hair as Wiggins looked me up and down, "Alright, tomorrow then. Five o'clock, don't be late."

"But Professor Wiggins," I protested, "I won't even get dinner!"

"Well, then you should have worked harder tonight."

"Wiggins, with all due respect, what was Miss Darling's detention?"

Shut up, Wood. "To scrub the floor leading to my classroom and office."

"Well," Wood motioned towards the edges of the hallway, "It looks fairly spotless to me."

"Fairly spotless it is, but it is not completely spotless."

"Well Wiggins-" Shut UP Wood! Knowing where this was going, I stepped on Wood's foot before he could get me into anymore trouble, or somehow managed to point out more imperfections in my cleaning job. "Ow!"

"Miss Darling, I believe that just earned yourself yet another detention."

"You can't give her a detention for stepping on MY foo-"

"Oh my Merlin, just shut UP Wood!" I turned to scream it at him before I realized that I'd... well, you know, screamed at him. It was reminiscent of what got me this detention in the first place. I cleared my throat, looking awkwardly between my two stunned professors, "Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do."

"Five tomorrow, Darling!"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, sweetie," I called back sarcastically as I walked away. That's the other reason I love my name - I can respond with a pet name and make everyone else sound like an idiot... sorta.

!!

For the second night in a row, I found myself kneeling in the passageway in front of Professor Wiggins' office, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain. Of course it was tonight that I'd been informed by Professor Wiggins that I would not be serving an additional detention for my 'abuse' of Professor Wood, though he would expect to have me write a full apology and have it delivered within the week.

Yeah right. Wood is an idiot with a babbling mouth, and needs to be told when to shut his trap. I'm not at all sorry that I had to tell him.

Slightly reminiscent of last night, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned to see Wood smiling awkwardly at me, "Hey, Darling."

"What do you want, Wood," I questioned, returning to my scrubbing as soon as I caught sight of his face.

"Dinner."

"The Great Hall is open," I responded. Way to rub it in my face asswipe.

"No, no, I mean I brought you dinner." I glanced up at Wood, looking down his muscular arms to see that he was holding two plates of food. "I wasn't sure what you'd want, so I just grabbed a bit of everything."

"Oh," I said, honestly shocked, "Thanks."

Wood passed me a plate, and I scooted against a wall and started to awkwardly pick at the food with my fingers until boy-broom-wonder pulled a fork out of his robe pocket. I nodded my thanks, and he and I continued to eat in silence.

I glanced up at him every now and then, only to see him staring at his plate and only picking at the food.

"Not hungry," I finally questioned, just to break the silence.

"Oh, no, I am, I just am not a big fan of the Hogwarts food."

"Sucks," I said, shoving another bite of food into my mouth. I was impartial to the Great Hall food. A few more minutes passed by before I spoke again. "So, Professor Wiggins told me that he isn't giving me a detention for stepping on your foot. Thanks." Yes, I'm showing gratitude - I figure Wiggins hates me enough that Wood must have had something to do with it. Wood's trying to be nice right now, and I suppose it wouldn't kill me as much as it normally would to admit that he's helped.

Wood looked up from his plate finally, then, and smiled slightly. It made my heart almost flutter, and I noticed that his eyes were brown. "Not a problem." He nodded towards my almost empty plate, "Done?"

"Oh, yeah, thanks," I said as Wood took the plates in his hand, snapping them to the kitchen.

"Well, then, as long as Wiggins isn't giving you a detention, you have one Saturday evening from me."

My brow furrowed, THE JERK! "What?"

"I expect you at six o'clock sharp at the Quidditch Pitch."

The Quidditch Pitch? What kind of place is that to have a detention? "Wait, is this a ploy to make sure that I'm forced to have a lesson?"

"Would you rather be scrubbing floors," Wood questioned from down the hall, almost turning the corner.

"Yes," I pouted, and I heard Wood's laugh echo off the walls, "Six o'clock sharp, at the Quidditch Pitch. I swear, it won't be painful."

"He says as he makes it a detention," I muttered, falling to my knees again and continuing on the spot, "Like detention isn't a bad thing."