A/N: Chapter 4 is at last out! A bit shorter than I'd wish, but hopefully the next few will be longer. I once again would like to thank my wonderful beta, Aniki the Infamous, and all the wonderful reviewers.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, I could truthfully claim I've published a book. As is, I cannot.

Blaise stared down at the book, tapping it slowly with his finger. "Pansy, what do you think would happen if you actually touched the potion before it was ready?"

Pansy rolled her eyes as she fumbled in the box for powdered moonstone. "I don't know, Blaise. Nor do I care. Damn, these stupid 'Any Ingredient You Could Want' potion kits are irritating. It has all the ingredients, they're just not easily accessible. I can't believe Professor Snape actually told us to use this!"

Blaise looked up from the book at Pansy slowly, smiling at the picture his friend made. Huge dragon hide gloves, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, ranting about the kit while stirring the potion clockwise. Her plaited skirt spread out around her haphazardly, and her lips curled as she splashed the slightest drop of the potion onto her gloves. Finally holding out the powder triumphantly, she spread it around in the cauldron and began stirring counter-clockwise.

"Okay, what's the next ingredient?"

Blaise squinted down at the book, the words seeming slightly blurred. Why did these textbooks always seem to have such small print? You'd think they'd make it huge so no one would make mistakes. At least the measurements were in bold.

"Uh…"

"Blaise. Stop fooling around. What's the next ingredient?"

"One second, Pansy." Blaise screwed up his eyes and stared intently down at the writing. A—As, there was an H there nearby… De near the end… Asphodel, it must be. "It's asphodel. Three leaves, whole."

Pansy nodded distractedly, fumbling for the asphodel and throwing in three leaves, switching to clockwise stirring. "Next, Blaise? Perhaps faster this time?"

Blaise nodded, peering down at the pages. Ah, this one was in bold for importance, so it was a bit easier to read. "Peppermint. One sprig."

Pansy nodded, and a few strands of hair fell into her eyes that she brushed away as she threw it in. "What's the next one?"

Blaise looked down, straining to read the next line. This one was even more blurry than the last, he couldn't even get half the letters. Started with s… Must be sopohorous, that went in the same potion as asphodel, he thought. "Sopohorous, five. And then let sit for an hour." Though wasn't asphodel in an infusion or something in that one?

Pansy breathed a sigh of relief, and stood, brushing the unseen dirt off her skirt. "Finally. You took long enough reading those directions. Did I get the powdered moonstone in your eyes or something?"

Blaise shook his head. "I'm just tired. I'll go get caffeine from the house elves. I'll be back within the hour."

"Okay, but bring me back something to eat, will you? I'm starving."

-------------------------------------------------------------

Elizabeth glared down at the transfiguration homework, wishing desperately the due date could be modified. Or for something to distract her… anything, really, to stop her from going through this dreadful epitome of boredom.

"Elizabeth. Your attention, please."

Elizabeth's head bolted up, shocked eyes staring into those of Draco Malfoy, who simply raised an eyebrow. "Is this a bad time?"

Elizabeth mutely shook her head. "No, it's just that you usually don't speak to me until four… when I report the gossip of the day… you dismiss me, and then we go our separate ways until the next day's four o'clock."

Draco considered that for a second. It did, actually, sound rather correct, as interaction with Elizabeth was only for informative purposes. Her take on it, however, made him sound quite like a bastard.

"Understood. Though today, I'm going to ask you to complete a special task for me. In the place of reporting gossip. I'll also pay you ten galleons."

Elizabeth grinned and leaned forward, feeling the excitement of a special task build up in her chest.

"Sure; what is it?"

Draco, in turn, reclined back in his chair and drilled his eyes into hers.

"Elizabeth, I would like you to stalk Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. I would like you to tell me every single slightest thing they do. If Blaise goes to loo, you report when he went in and when he came out. If Pansy goes to the loo, you follow her in. But what ever you do, do not let Pansy and Blaise realize that you're following them. If they see you, fine, they'll assume it's a coincidence. But don't let them realize they're being watched."

Elizabeth backed up and wrinkled her nose. "That's hard. Fifteen galleons."

"Eleven galleons," Draco scowled.

"Sixteen galleons."

"Since when have you argued with me?" Draco drew himself up into his full height sitting, towering over the fourth-year.

Elizabeth smiled innocently up at him. "Since we started discussing currency, and since you spoke to me at a un-prescribed time. Seventeen galleons."

"The fact that I acknowledged your existence other than as an intelligence robot still does not give you the right to bargain your payment. Eleven galleons."

"And yet, you still argue, declaring your statements pointless when you yourself do not obey them. Eighteen galleons."

Draco frowned, and lessened his posture slightly. "Twelve."

Elizabeth thought for a moment, and gave a slight nod. "Thirteen."

"Fine," Draco glared, then sighed and relaxed back in his chair. "Thirteen galleons."

Elizabeth smiled again. "Deal. But may I ask why you need Pansy and Blaise followed? Aren't they your friends? And where are they so I can begin?"

Draco glared at the girl, taking a languid pose in his chair and admiring his fingernails. "I don't know where they are, that's part of why I need them followed. Follow them out of the common room when they leave in the morning, or later this evening. They're up to something, and that's all you'll know. Don't you have-" he glanced at the papers in front of her, "Transfiguration homework to do?"

Elizabeth nodded dejectedly and leaned down over her homework, picking up the abandoned quill and tapping the end on the blank parchment. Draco watched her amusing attempts to begin her essay—writing a sentence or two, and then roughly scratching them out.

Finally, Elizabeth glanced up at him, her eyes searching. "Draco, do you know how to turn a hedgehog into a pincushion correctly?"

Draco stared at the girl for a moment. Since when had she become that comfortable enough with him to… He stood sharply, striding past Elizabeth, who slowly turned to watch him. At the portrait hole, he stopped, turning to meet her eyes.

"Do your own Transfiguration homework, and then watch Pansy and Blaise."

He turned and strode out of the common room.

------------------------------------------------

Harry mentally recounted the directions Malfoy had given him a few days ago, taking the opposite at each turn, at last reaching the final fork. He peered down both hallways. The left was the one greater lit, that Harry suspected held the Slytherin common room. The right was the one he'd gotten lost on after his last detention. Harry smiled, heaving his bag back over his shoulder, and turned right.

It was only a few minutes before Harry lit his wand and turned to face the first door, the door Malfoy had caught him investigating before. Harry dragged his wand about the floor, murmuring a few quick spells to rid it of the cobwebs and dust, and sat down.

Finally arrived at his destination, Harry could relax. Ginny had been relentless the past few days, practically stalking him and leaving no place of relief, other than the boys' dormitory. In fact, she even followed him up there a few times. Hell, she even insisted they do their homework together. Harry scowled at he retrieved his Charms homework from his bag. Honestly, what he'd do for a companionable silence doing homework, like with Ron and Hermione. Or, if not the homework, at least silence, which was scarce to find with Ginny and what his venture down to the dungeons was for. Supposedly. Not in hope of seeing Malfoy again. Why would he want to re-live that experience? Ever?

Soft footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Harry made a conscious effort not to look anywhere but at his homework. The footsteps paused for a second as they drifted forward, but resumed louder and faster than before. At last, they stopped in front of him.

"Potter, why, in Merlin's name, are you doing your homework here?"

Harry shrugged, peering up at Malfoy's rigid figure.

"I dunno. Hoping for a bit of quiet, I suppose. What about you? Get stuck with idiot patrol again? Can't you blackmail some first-year into doing it for you, like everything else?"

Moments after the words flew out of his mouth, Harry winced inwardly and cursed at himself. He hadn't meant to say such insulting vitriol; he just wanted to answer the question and find out why Malfoy'd been down here twice.

Malfoy glared down at him. "No, that's just Gryffindors. Like those Weasley boys. Didn't they test their disgusting products on first-years? I don't recall Slytherins ever lowering themselves to any such level."

Harry glowered back, setting aside his Charms work and standing so he was eye level with Malfoy. He leaned forward slightly, staring Malfoy in the eye. "At least we're smart enough to get our own jobs, instead of inheriting the family name."

Draco felt his breath catch as Harry leaned forward, and he fisted his hands on his pants, brushing off the sticky sweat accumulating. Did Harry really need to get that goddamn close?

"At least Slytherins have a family name to inherit."

Harry looked at him murderously, and Draco nearly started hyperventilating. As it was, a blush began to form on his cheeks, and the Slytherin groaned inwardly, unsuccessfully attempting to fight the blood down. Of course, it went just a little too far down, and Draco quickly took a few steps back from Harry, nearly flattening himself against the dusty barred door. He tried not to think about what insects were crawling in the cracks in the wood.

Harry squinted at him, a bit confused at the way Malfoy appeared to be reacting to his comments. The flush in Malfoy's cheeks had to be just anger, like how Ron's ears often turned red when he was angry. The reason he backed up had to be hatred of being any where near Harry Potter. Was Harry really that disgusting?

For some reason, the idea made Harry feel sad, almost depressed, as though he actually cared what Malfoy thought. But that was stupid. Even if Harry ended up feeling the slightest inklings of friendship for Malfoy, it wasn't as though it would ever be returned. Malfoy was far too into his own arrogant, egotistic, pure-blood world to care.

"At least Gryffindors don't have to resort to someone's family and lineage to insult them; we can find things wrong with the actual person." Harry bent down, shoved his homework, ink, and quill into his bag, and started up the corrider, ignoring Malfoy's gobstruck look.

Draco stared after the boy, blinking repeatedly and worrying his lip between his teeth. What had he said to upset Harry so much? He hadn't mentioned his mother, or his intellect. They'd just been bickering, as usual, sans their last encounter in the dungeons. Why did it always have to be his fault, for some reason or another? Why couldn't Harry come out of his stupid, heroic world enough to care?