The following week found the school in a state of shock. Umbridge was now Headmistress. I could hardly believe Harry's recountment of the events that took place in Dumbledore's office, and I felt ashamed that something I took so much pleasure from had gotten Dumbledore into trouble. Select students had been made members of the Inquisitorial Squad, Umbridge's private police force. They were given even more power than prefects, and they abused it without a second thought. Malfoy was among them, and it annoyed me to no end to see him prance through the halls wearing that same smirk and a shiny new I badge.

With the Easter Holidays days away, the Weasley twins had set off magical fireworks of their own invention that drove Umbridge mad, and I had received a letter from my mother saying she had gotten permission from Dumbledore to let me come visit over the break. After months of craziness like this, I would usually be thrilled to see my mother, but now that I was on the way home, I couldn't imagine seeing her. She would know immediately something was wrong, but I didn't know how to explain, particularly when she had explaining of her own to do. How could she have not mentioned Snape, knowing he was my professor? Normally Mum and I loved gossiping over boys and silly things. We viewed it as our guilty pleasure; it had been a way to make ourselves feel better under the totalitarianism of my stepfather. Something kept me from wanting to explain Malfoy, however, particularly when I realized with a shock I didn't even know his first name. My mother wouldn't let that slide without comment.

Mum was more distracted than usual, but after walking in the living room to find her fighting with my stepfather through the Floo, I just chalked it up to marriage problems. Merlin knows she had enough of those. Things seemed to clear up fairly quickly though, with her interrogating me on cute boys at Hogwarts and insisting we go shopping. This was normal: girl talk and retail therapy. So Mum and I spent the most beautiful spring day so far walking around Diagon Alley. I replenished my school supplies and Mum got new robes for work. We stopped for lunch and ice cream from Fortescue's, and I had barely taken my first bite when I dropped it down my front, mint ice cream coating my hair.
Mum snorted and waved her wand, cleaning me up.

"Okay, love, I knew you were going to have changed when you came home, but I didn't think you'd change back to a toddler."
I barely heard her, because the reason I had dropped my ice cream was walking towards us, his white blonde head clearly visible moving through the crowd. We hadn't seen each other since he inexplicably let Hermione, Ron, and I get away. I had no idea where I stood with him, but I wasn't about to figure it out in front of my mother.
"Uh, Mum, I see one of my friends, I'm going to go say hello."

Before she had a chance to comment, I darted into the store on our left, hoping Malfoy hadn't seen me. I found myself in Flourish and Blotts, and was relieved to have books to occupy a bit of time that was supposed to be used catching up with a classmate. I walked towards the first shelf and began browsing when the tinkle of a bell signaled someone's entrance into the shop. I paid it no mind until I heard a drawling voice and realized who had entered.

"Mother, really. Don't you have enough books already? It's my school break, for Merlin's sake, can't we do something more interesting than wander through a stuffy book shop?"

I threw myself behind the case I had just been looking at and resisted the urge to burst out laughing. Why did I always end up in Malfoy's path? He continued grumbling towards his mother who seemed to be ignoring him for the most part. Good to know it wasn't just me he reserved that attitude for. He eventually wandered away from her and I kept my eye on him, making sure he couldn't see me. It was strange, looking at him for such an extended period of time with no interaction, but it gave me a chance to notice things about him that I never had before — things I wish I hadn't noticed once I did — namely the fact that he was extremely attractive. It was embarrassing to realize and seemed stupid that I hadn't seen it until then, but there it was. Maybe it was because he wasn't harassing or casting hexes at me that made the difference, but I couldn't stop staring at the way the light shone off his hair and created shadows that contoured his jawline and cheekbones. He had an old world aristocratic grace that combined with the wicked gleam from those strange gray eyes to make a bad boy beauty.

I was so caught up in staring at him uninterrupted that I was caught off guard by him turning in my direction. I quickly turned into the next aisle of books, unsure of whether or not he had seen me. I walked down the aisle before realizing with a sinking feeling it was a dead end.

"Are you following me? Have something to say to me, Mousseau?"

Damn. I continued looking at the shelf I was in front of, pretending to be in search of something.

"No, Malfoy. Don't you think I would have bloody acknowledged you by now?"

It was killing me to not see his reaction, and if we hadn't been in a public place, I wouldn't have dared kept my back to him. Even so, it wasn't a good idea, because before I sensed him coming towards me, he had grabbed my arm and spun me around. We were nose to nose yet again, and I could feel the covers of the books behind me pressing into my shoulder blades.

"I'd think a thank you might be in order," he hissed, eyes flashing. "I saved you and your bloody friends from Umbridge, if you remember correctly. You owe me, and the Weasel and Mudblood certainly do."

My anger flared up at his insults to my friends, particularly Hermione. I pushed hard on his chest and he stumbled back a couple feet before regaining his footing. I drew myself up to my full height, ignoring the fact that I was still and good foot shorter than him and how his eyes flashed steel gray at my reaction.

"You arrogant bastard. We don't owe you a damn thing. I appreciate the effort it took for you being a decent human being, but we didn't ask you to do it. I gladly would have served detention along with the others if it meant shortening my interactions with you, let alone having you think you're entitled to us giving you something in return. However, I'm sorry that you do think we owe you, and I'm sorry for thinking you had it in you to just do something good for once in your life without an agenda."

He took another step towards me, and I tried to shove past him back down the aisle. He took up too much space, though, and grabbed my wrist before I could get by. He yanked my arm up behind my back, forcing me to turn with my face into the bookcase. Now I could feel him pressed into my back, and I mentally chastised myself for thinking how much I prefered him to the books. He growled into my ear.

"Damn it, Mousseau. Can't you just be grateful I helped you and your friends that I fucking hate? Did you ever stop to think why I did it? Or did you think that by 'owe me' I just meant owe me the thank you? Or maybe just the decency of looking at me like I'm not scum?"

He released my arm and stepped back, looking angrier than I'd seen him in a long time. With a twinge of guilt, I realized he was right, in a way. We could have thanked him. The act was certainly more than we would have done for him if the roles were reversed, and we both knew it. I opened my mouth to apologize, but he held up a hand, his eyes softening slightly.

"Forget it. It's alright. I shouldn't have snapped."

Before I could say a single word, he was gone. I didn't want to admit it, but I did feel indebted to him, which made me angry for countless reasons. I was about fed up with every encounter with Malfoy ending in a row and having them affect me the way they did. But it's not like we were going to change our behaviors towards each other any time soon.

I hardly had time to think about Malfoy once school started again. Teachers seemed determined to drown us in exam preparation. The end of May brought a rising sense of panic among us fifth years and excitement about the Quidditch final. Hermione, Harry, and I made our way down to the pitch and bid an incredibly nervous Ron good luck. We settled in our seats as the game began, but I was distracted by a blonde head moving through the stands. Malfoy had exited the stadium and was making his way back up to the castle. Making a decision I was sure I would regret, I told Harry and Hermione I wasn't feeling well and followed Malfoy back inside.

I followed him silently through a maze of corridors. I debated on what I should say, or if I should say anything at all. I had no good reason for being here, but the longer I followed him, the more suspicious it would look.

"Oi, Malfoy."

He whipped around with a startled expression on his face, and I felt a vague satisfaction at having caught him off guard. Surprise changed to anger, and I couldn't help but remember our last confrontation in Flourish and Blotts.

"You really are following me. You better have something to say this time."

"I do have a question. Why did you go to the match only to leave?"

He stiffened. "I don't see how that's any of your bloody business," he spat, crossing his arms over his body. I raised my eyebrows at the defensive gesture.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I'm not curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat, Mousseau. Now sod off."

Now I really was curious. What reason did he have to be this evasive about? Against my better judgement, I decided to prod him to see if he'd eventually confess. I was betting he was on his way to shag Pansy.

"What, feeling guilty that you couldn't get your team into the finals? Couldn't stand to watch the match you could have played in if you weren't a bloody awful Seeker?"

His eyes flashed silver before he turned away, his hands clenched at his sides. I regretted my words, having seen his expression and realizing I had been right. I unconsciously moved to comfort him but drew back before my hand touched him. I didn't think that would be welcome at the moment. As I was considering just walking away, he started speaking, still facing the wall.

"Yes, Mousseau. You're right. You're bloody fucking right, are you happy? I let my team down, let fucking Potter get the Gryffindors into the championship. He's banned from the sodding team and people still see him as the great one. I didn't want to sit there and watch his team, is that so hard to believe?"

I didn't know how to respond. I hadn't known that Malfoy actually cared about Quidditch. Before then, I had thought it was just another way to get to Harry for him, not something he enjoyed. I felt guilty for rubbing it in.

"I'm sorry," I said simply. I hesitated for half a second before this time allowing my hand to rest on his shoulder. He turned towards me slowly and I wished I wouldn't have stepped closer to him. His eyes burned that same silver with something identifiable.

"Would you….want to walk with me?"

I just stared at him, uncomprehending. Color rose on his cheeks when I didn't answer.

"Or not. Bloody hell."

"No, sorry, it's just….that would mean spending more time with me, and you generally try to avoid that."

He chuckled slightly and started off down the corridor. I took it that I should follow him, and jogged a bit to catch up. We were once again in a part of the castle that I didn't recognize, and I considered asking where we were going. He seemed preoccupied, and I figured I had asked enough questions for one day anyway. I allowed myself to watch how the torchlight reflected off his hair, giving him a heavenly glow that he didn't deserve. I snorted to myself, and he turned to look at me, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

"Care to share?"

I blushed. No way I was letting him know I had been thinking of how attractive he was yet again, this time picturing him as a dark angel. That description fit him so well — angelic face, demonic behavior. That smirk was certainly working with the dark image, as well as making my blush deepen. I shook my head, but by now he had noticed my reaction.

"Come on, Mousseau. I showed you mine; show me yours."

The smirk was still firmly in place, and I was getting whiplash from switching between angry and flirty Malfoy. But Merlin, I knew which one I preferred. Before I could chicken out, I decided to play his game.

"Just thinking of you."

"And what about me," he asked, his voice going even deeper than normal and causing my pulse to pick up.

"I think I'll just let you wonder about that part," I retorted, and was embarrassed to realize my voice had gotten huskier as well.

His eyes widened slightly, the gray deepening as he stared me down. I drew courage from the knowledge that my words were getting a reaction, and decided for one more bold move.

"….Or I could show you."

And I stepped forward and pressed my lips to his.