Seventh Year again.

By this time, I had stopped fuming at the rat bastard. I knew he'd be like this; he's never given me any reason to believe that he's human before now, so why should it change? Actually, I like the work, sort of. There's something calming about a simple, rhythmic bout of manual labour. It clears the head.

I scrubbed, feeling the slippery soap between my fingers. I sang as I worked; rock mostly, but also blues, jazz and ska. Halfway down the hallway, I found myself singing 'Drops of Jupiter', one of my favourite Muggle songs.

'Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet, did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day, get back to the Milky Way?' I sang.

'Tell me, did Venus blow your mind, was it everything you wanted to find, and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?' When I realized that another voice had joined mine, I jumped so bad I nearly fell over. I looked to see Malfoy, of all people, standing next to me, looking awkward.

Okay, either I was totally off in my own world, or he's silent. I sat back on my heels and sighed at him.

'What do you want, Malfoy? Come to gloat?' he didn't answer, so I went back to my scrubbing. But a minute later, I realized that he'd Conjured himself a brush and was scrubbing a dirty patch a few feet away, tie and jacket a little ways away, shirtsleeves rolled up. I looked at him, surprised, but went back to my scrubbing. I had homework, after all.

It went three times as fast with two of us working. (A/N: I don't know how this works, scientifically, but it does in reality.) Five minutes later, after we'd covered a couple of feet, he spoke again.

'I didn't sell you out.' His tone was quiet and even, the voice of someone stating a fact.

'What do you call it then?'

'I didn't, honest. You did a decent thing, Weasley. I was just going to go wash the blood off and continue on my merry way, but I ran into McGonagall on the way to the bathroom, and I was planning to say that Nott and I got into a scuffle, you know, boys will be boys. But before I could open my mouth, the guys were off about how you'd done it.' His calm tone hadn't changed. I worked in silence for a minute, wondering whether to believe him. Then I decided that it didn't matter.

'Thanks. And I would say I'm sorry that I broke your nose, but I'm really not, so it would be dishonest.' What? I wasn't going to lie about it.

He chuckled. 'It was a good punch. For a girl, that is.'

'If you think you're so much better, try me. I could beat you in a fight.' I stood, and he laughed. 'You think I'm not serious?'

'I couldn't hit you. You're a girl.'

'That'd make it an even match. What are you, scared?' I was riling him up. I was actually curious if I could best him. I wouldn't ever admit it out loud, but I like fighting. There's something strong and powerful to it.

'Weasley, I'm not going to fight you, no matter how much you insult me. Put down your dukes and get back to cleaning.' I put my hands on my hips.

'So even if I call you a lily-livered chauvinistic vagrant son of an Ashwinder, you're just going to keep scrubbing that floor?' I asked.

'Yeah, something like that. I might insult you back as I do it though, you weak, cowardly, bloody pathetic Keeper, who was born in a bin.'

'Bastard.'

'Bitch.'

'Motherfucking son of an incestuous snake.'

'An incestuous snake?'

'Damn straight.'

We both felt better after that. We kept scrubbing. After a while, I fell back into the rhythm of it, and began to zone again. Twenty minutes later, I heard…singing. It was Malfoy.

'Johnny wishes he was famous, spends his time alone in the basement with Lennon and Cobain and a guitar and a stereo. And while he wishes he could escape this but it all seems so contagious not to be yourself and faceless in a song that has no soul.' I joined in, quietly.

'I remember feeling low, I remember losing hope, I remember all the feelings and the day they stopped. We are, we are all innocent, we are all innocent, we are, we are. We are, we are all innocent, we are all innocent, we are, we are.' He stopped for the next verse, while I sang 'And she's been losing faith in what she knows, hears the music hits on the foreclose, thinks of surgery and a new nose, and the galleries of war. And while she wishes she was a dancer, and that she'd never heard of cancer, she wishes God would give her some answers, and make her feel beautiful.'

And then we sang together again; 'I remember feeling low, I remember losing hope, I remember all the feelings and the day they stopped. We are, we are all innocent, we are all innocent, we are, we are. We are, we are all innocent, we are all innocent, we are, we are.'

After that, we looked at one another, startled.

'That's one of my favourite songs,' he said.

'Mine too. I love them, even though they wrote their stuff years before we were born.'

'Powerful stuff. Have you heard Thief?' I nodded.

'It's one of my favourites, but so sad. I really like Somewhere Out There.' I was struck by a sudden thought. 'Are we actually getting along?'

'No, absolutely not. I was just about to disagree; I think that Somewhere Out There is absolute rubbish.' And we fell silent for the rest of the hallway.

When we finished, I rose (heh, heh, my name's Rose and I rose!) and stretched the kinks from my spine. I turned to Malfoy, awkwardly.

'Thanks. For helping me out, and for not telling McG.'

He looked awkward as well. 'Thanks for breaking my nose, and for fixing it.' Then he turned and high-tailed it out of there, leaving me shaking my head in an empty corridor. I picked up my jumper and shoes and wandered over the freshly cleaned floor, singing under my breath.

'Last time I talked to you, you were lonely and out of place…'