DISCLAIMER: All canon characters and the Harry Potter-verse belong to J K Rowling, and all "Malfoy Ambition" related things belong to Goddess Blue. Everything else belongs to me.

WARNINGS: Female Harry, Draco/Harry pairing, spoilers from possibly all the Harry Potter books, slight OOCness, cliches, and a bit of coarse language that will appear here and there.

A/N: HEY GUYS!! XD Missed me? ::ducks away from onslaught of rotten tomatoes::

Haha, sorry for the long wait, lovelies. :) My exams are over, but red-hot-iron-fever, blocked noses, soar throats - my life is a mess at the moment. ::snort::

By the way, I got some very interesting threats of what catastrophes would befall me if I didn't update this fic soon. A certain someone even threatened, and I quote, "If you don't update your story, I'm gonna RAPE you - seriously." 0.o You guys have got quite the imagination, I'll give you that much. XD

Anyway, enough chit-chat. Here it is: the longest chapter I've written so far! Me likey, you likey too, yesh? I certainly hope so! :D

CHAPTER ELEVEN: BUGGING THE DRAGON

'I'm so glad it's the weekend,' Ron said with a grin at Harry as the two of them stood leaning against the wall of the Entrance Hall after breakfast, waiting for Hermione. They had been on their way to meet Hagrid when their friend had gotten sidetracked and was currently conversing with her Potions' partner in the Great Hall. 'We'll be free of teachers for a few hours at least,' he continued happily. 'Honestly, can you believe how much work they've given us? And it's only the first week back!'

'Hmm, yeah,' Harry answered with a yawn, rubbing the back of her hand over her eyes tiredly. She was so exhausted that she had barely heard what Ron had just said, something which her friend did not seem to realise as he chattered on.

'... and no more constant lectures about revising, too! And on top of that, no stupid potion researching for two whole days. I seriously need a break before I have to waste my time in the company of Hogwarts' resident aristoprick again!'

The mention of the Slytherin's name caught Harry's attention like nothing else her friend had said up until that point. She looked round at him with tired, yet guarded eyes.

'You're complaining about Malfoy again?' she asked, looking at him questioningly. 'Alright, Ron, what's going on? At first you said that he was being civil to you, but after that first night working in the library, you've been complaining about him more and more for the past few days. Did Malfoy say anything that made you angry or something? Ron?' she added a little more concernedly when Ron did not answer. His eyes were locked on a point somewhere above her shoulder.

'Speak of the devil,' he muttered under his breath, blue eyes narrowing.

Blinking in confusion, Harry turned to look over her shoulder as well. Her eyes widened when she saw what – or who – it was that had caught Ron's attention: Draco Malfoy was exiting the Great Hall, deep in conversation with Blaise Zabini who was, as usual, right by his side.

Harry felt a light blush creep up her face as she watched the two of them walk down the Hall towards the open doors that lead outside. Every time her eyes had fallen on Malfoy after their little "accident" in the library four days ago, a feeling of self-consciousness had always taken hold of her, bringing colour to her cheeks – though why her body was reacting in such a ridiculous manner, she could not explain for the life of her. After all, the little mishap in the library had been a mere accident, something that she could easily brush off as an incident that had never taken place.

Or, at least, that was what she kept telling herself, but the self-reassurances did little to prevent the rush of blood to her face every single time she saw Malfoy. There was also the fact that, on top of everything, her mind had taken on an annoying tendency to constantly dwell on the memory of what it felt like to have his mouth smashed up against her own – which, to be completely honest, had not really been as disgusting as she had made it out to be in front of Ron and Hermione. In fact, if it had not been him on top of whom she had been sprawled, she might have even found the experience rather pleasant...

Wait ... did I just ... ugh, what am I thinking?!

To both her relief and chagrin, she was abruptly snapped out of her rather perturbing thoughts for Malfoy looked up at her at that moment, almost as if he had sensed her eyes on him. Harry could literally feel the flush on her face deepening as their gazes locked, but she defiantly gazed back at him with her head held high.

Quite automatically, she found herself searching his face and eyes for any sign, even an infinitesimal hint, that he might possibly know. It was an inspection she carried out almost every time they saw each other, ever since last Monday night when Harry had been faced with the frightening possibility that her secret about the ring was now exposed to her rival.

Oh, thank Merlin, he hasn't realised – yet, Harry thought with relief when she discovered no tell-tale signs in his eyes that he knew about her being his "fiancée". She pointedly ignored how her heart began to beat just a tad faster and the tingling sensation that began in her lips as Malfoy returned her stare intensely. His eyes lingered on her for a few more seconds before his attention slid over to Ron.

The deadpan expression vanished almost at once and was replaced by a look Harry recognised all too well. It was the one he used to wear during their younger years whenever they faced each other: a cold, challenging glare.

The temperature in the Entrance Hall went down a few degrees.

Thoroughly surprised that Malfoy was aiming such a look at Ron, Harry turned to her best friend only to see him glowering right back at the blond with great defiance. His eyes were almost slits by then and his mouth was set in such a tight line that it gave Harry the impression that Ron was forcing himself not to bare his teeth.

Well, it would seem that there truly was a reason as to why Ron had taken to cursing Malfoy's mere existence so much over the past couple of days – only, what that reason was, Harry had absolutely no idea.

OK, this is a little strange – even for them, Harry thought uncertainly, eyes going back and forth between the two scowling men. She was not the only one to have noticed the unnaturally high animosity between them, either. Blaise, too, was watching the scene curiously with a raised eyebrow from where he was standing a little behind his friend. Their eyes met and Harry shot him a questioning look to which Blaise responded with a half-hearted shrug.

With a last contemptuous glare at the red-head, Malfoy stalked out of the Hall with a bemused Blaise following him. Harry watched them disappear out of the doors before turning to Ron who was now pointedly glaring at the floor. She raised her eyebrows wryly.

'Right, what was that all about?'

A grimace covered his face as Ron looked up at her, his eyes hard and serious. 'Harry, stay away from him.'

'Eh?' That was not what she had expected to hear. 'What are you talking about?'

'You don't want him to know about the ring, right? Then stay away from Malfoy.'

She stared at him. 'Ron ... I have no idea why you're saying that. It's not like I've been seeking him out or anything –'

'Yeah, I know that, Harry,' he interrupted, looking a little frustrated. 'But it's just that ...' Ron ran a hand through his hair, evidently trying to find words to explain himself. After a few moments, when no words seemed to appear in his mind, he turned to her with a sigh and stated bluntly, 'He's looking for you, Harry.'

'Er, what ...?' Her mental exhaustion, which had kicked in again as soon as Malfoy was out of sight (why was that, though?), was apparently making her brain work backwards.

'Harry!' Ron glared at her in exasperation. 'He's looking for you! OK, he's actually searching for his fiancée! All this time, we figured that he was being a good little boy and was just waiting for the girl – meaning you – to show up in front of him, and we thought that that would give us more time to find a way to get the stupid ring off. But that's not it, Harry! He's not only waiting anymore, he's trying to find you.'

'... Oh.' Talk about intelligent replies.

He stared at her in mild surprise before a sardonic look crossed his features. 'Well, since you don't seem to think too much of it, maybe I shouldn't bother, either.'

Harry blinked, still unable to understand what he was trying to get at. She was beginning to regret the fact that she had gotten only a couple of hours of sleep last night. 'Umm ... yeah, Ron ... er, what exactly is the big deal about it?'

'Hmm, let's think;' he began rather sarcastically, 'last Monday night, I found out that Malfoy walks around the castle looking at the hands of each and every girl that comes his way to see if she has his bloody ring or not. Then there's the fact that he now suspects me of knowing who his fiancée is – which sadly is true – and has begun to badger me about it, and even tried to blackmail me during one of our so-called research sessions – which are the reasons why I've been pissed off at him these past few days, for your information – to make me tell him about you. Now, put all that together and what do you get?' He looked pointedly at her.

His run-on sentences were not helping in the least to stop her brain from turning into mush. 'Er ... I'm not really getting anything, Ron...'

Ron looked seriously ticked off now. 'Well, Harry,' he forced through clenched teeth in a deceptively calm tone, 'there's more than a slim chance that, eventually, there will come a day when he will look at your hand and, instead of seeing your ring finger, he'll see a great, big, black glove. And since he's already suspicious of my knowing something about his fiancée now, he might have enough brain cells – impossible as it seems – to realise that my best friend, Hariah Potter, is the one who got the ring and that you're hiding his token of love behind that glove. There's also the part where he really might have felt that weird warmth that night when you kissed him, so that'll increase the chances of him realising that his fiancée is you. And since he's come out of his scary dragon's lair and is actually taking the trouble of searching for his one true love, the day when he sees your hand and puts two and two together might come sooner than you think, meaning that it's better for you to stay as far away from him as possible. Und-er-stood?'

'... You know, Ron, it's incredible how much you sound like Hermione when you're trying to be smart.'

A dangerous vein, much like the ones that were the trademark of one Vernon Dursley, began to throb on Ron's temple. 'Harry ...'

'Seriously, been hanging around her too much? 'Cause I could've sworn that that wasn't you talking –' Her words and thoughts came to a sudden standstill when her subconscious finally managed to digest Ron's words like her exhausted conscious mind had been unable to. The meaning and significance of what he was implying finally dawned on her and she felt her knees grow weak as her imagination fed her a vivid vision of Ron's words about Malfoy coming true.

If Malfoy ever did guess that it was her...

'Oh shit!'

'About time you got it,' Ron scoffed. 'And my brothers call me the dumb one.'

'Don't tell me that you have started up the enmity between you and Weasley again, Draco,' Blaise muttered as he followed his friend out into the September sun.

'What?' Draco glanced at him over his shoulder. His eyes were still hard and steely.

'You heard me,' Blaise returned coolly. 'What's up with you two now? I thought you said that you'd managed to get along with him during our first Potions class. However, you've been getting moodier by the day and just now you were glaring at him as if you were about to tear his throat open, which hardly seems like a courteous gesture to me.'

'I was being civil to him, Blaise,' Draco snapped, abruptly turning around to face the other Slytherin. 'And though I hate it, I would still make an attempt to be so only if that weasel hasn't been trying to hide my fiancée's identity from me!

A shocked look passed across the brunet's face. 'He – what?'

With his face still twisted in anger, Draco briefly recounted the conversation he had had with his Potions' partner that Monday night. 'I'm sure of it, Blaise. I'd bet my entire inheritance that he knows who my fiancée is and that he's purposely keeping it from me! Isn't that reason enough for me to be uncivil? As the owner of the Malfoy rings and as her betrothed, I have a right to know who she is –!'

'Alright, alright, calm down,' Blaise cut across him quickly when Draco's voice took on a disturbingly high-pitched tone. No need to scream so hysterically like a PMSing girl, he added in his mind, but had enough sense not to say it out loud. 'Now, tell me, how can you know for sure that Weasley knows the girl's identity?'

'Blaise, you should have seen his reaction when I admitted that I was trying to find her,' Draco said with a frown. 'It still doesn't make any sense to me why he got so horrified and overreacted, but honestly – the look on his face! From the way he acted, you'd think it would be the end of the world if I found the girl! It seemed as if ... he knows who she is, but he's keeping her from me almost like he is ...' Draco sought for words, '... like he's protecting her from me or something! Why else would he panic over something so small?'

Blaise stared at him, still struggling to make head or tail of his words. 'Protecting her ...?'

'Weasley was acting like an overprotective mother-hen who just found out that his underage daughter's pedophile, psychotic ex-lover was back in town and ready to claim her, so yes, I concluded that he's trying to protect her from me, though why the hell that is, I have absolutely no clue!'

'Right,' muttered Blaise, nonplussed. An inner part of his brain noted that Malfoys apparently did have a creative side to them when it came to descriptions and comparisons.

'And,' Draco continued, his tone taking a sudden thoughtful turn, 'I only realised this recently: while Weasley was denying that he knew anything about my engagement in the library, he almost let something slip. I think it was a name. He was saying something like, 'You're searching for –' and at that moment, he almost began to say what I think was someone's name before he stopped and said "your fiancé" instead.'

'Right,' Blaise said again, now trying to regain his composure as he finally managed to grasp the gist of what Draco was ranting about. 'So, why didn't you confront him about that right then?'

'I was too distracted,' Draco admitted, averting his eyes, 'I only realised it much later while I was thinking about what Weasley had said.'

'I see ... so that's why you seem so sure that he knows?'

'Yes, Blaise, I'm damn sure of it! But the weasel won't 'fess up,' he added irritably, beginning to walk again, this time heading towards the lake. Silently, Blaise fell into step with him. 'I've tried so hard to get an answer out of him these past few days, but the ass is so goddamn pigheaded!'

'That explains the animosity,' drawled the half-Italian as he lazily sat down on a boulder near the lakeshore.

'Wouldn't you be pissed off as well if someone hid something from you – something that you have a right to know?' Draco shot at him, folding his arms.

'Perhaps, but since I haven't been in such a situation yet –' Blaise suddenly stopped and a curious frown crossed his face.

'What?'

The frown on his face deepened as he quietly remarked, 'Well, well, look who dropped by for a visit today.'

Blinking in confusion, Draco turned around. He stiffened when he saw who it was that was coming up behind him.

'What the hell is she doing here ...?'

'Alright, Harry, what have you been up to?'

Harry looked around at Hermione in bewilderment, blinking tiredly as the three of them hurried towards Hagrid's little hut in front of the Forbidden Forest. 'What are you talking about?'

'Just look at you, Harry,' Hermione exclaimed, looking disapprovingly at the other girl's face. 'You've got dark circles under your eyes, you look utterly exhausted and you've barely been listening to a word I just said!' The bushy-haired girl looked shrewdly at her friend. 'You didn't sleep at all last night, did you, Harry?'

'Of course I did!' Harry said defensively, simultaneously trying to force her face to look wide awake and failing pathetically.

'Oh, really?' Hermione raised her eyebrows, unconvinced. 'And just how many hours of sleep did you get?'

'Um ...' Harry smiled nervously as Hermione turned the full force of her astute eyes on her. 'I think ... maybe three hours ... give or take around fifteen minutes?'

'Bloody hell, mate, what were you doing?' Ron exclaimed, turning around to look at Harry over his shoulder.

She chuckled a little embarrassedly. 'Well, I was ... you know ... library ...'

Silence reigned over them for a full three seconds before Ron turned away, snorting in amusement while Hermione shook her head.

'Harry, you're getting rather obsessed with this, don't you think?' muttered the brown-eyed girl as they neared Hagrid's hut.

'Obsessed?' Harry repeated disbelievingly. 'Hermione, I don't think you fully understand the situation here! What with that little thing that happened in the library on Monday night and Malfoy's ring enlightening him about who his bloody fiancée is, the chances of him realising that I got the ring has risen, so I really can't afford to waste time if I want to remove this thing before that happens.'

'We don't know if Malfoy has guessed the truth or not, Harry,' Hermione pointed out, sounding slightly exasperated. 'It's been a few days, but he hasn't approached you or anything, has he? So, it's most likely that he still hasn't managed to put it all together. Besides,' Hermione added under her breath though Harry still heard every word, 'not wasting time doesn't mean turning yourself into a zombie via lack of food and sleep deprivation.'

Harry scowled and chose to ignore the sound of Ron, who had obviously overheard Hermione's little comment as well, chortling to himself.

They finally reached their destination. A large smile spread across Harry's face as they stopped outside the small, one-room house that belonged to their half-giant friend. It looked homely and welcoming with no aura of dark memories tainting it. The smile grew wider as the anticipation of finally meeting and talking to her long-time friend built up inside her. She really had missed him these past few months though they had kept in touch through letters.

'Hagrid?' Ron called as he knocked on the door. 'It's us.' He stepped back and all three of them looked up expectantly at the door. No body answered.

'Hagrid?' Harry knocked on the wooden door as well. Her smile faded when, yet again, no answering call sounded from within the hut. The three teens exchanged worried glances.

'Hey, are you home?' Harry knocked harder. 'It's us. We –'

'Do you hear that?' Hermione interrupted, holding up a hand.

Harry paused as well and looked around, listening hard. At first, she could hear nothing but the sound of wind passing through the trees of the Forbidden Forest, but then, another noise reached her ears; something that sounded like –

'Is that Fang barking?' Ron asked curiously. As if on cue, a black boarhound came bounding around the side of the hut and practically bowled over the red-head in his enthusiasm.

'Ow!' Ron groaned as he landed on the ground with the enormous dog still on top of him as he barked happily.

'Hey, Fang,' Harry snorted with laughter as she watched the spectacle her friend made as he fruitlessly tried to save his face from the onslaught of spittle, but to no avail. Fang continued to treat him to a proper doggy greeting as he licked Ron all over his face.

'Tha' yeh three?' a booming voice called at that moment.

'Hagrid!' Hermione exclaimed happily, beginning to run around the hut towards the large pumpkin patch that lay at the back. Harry followed with a grin, pausing only to haul a spluttering Ron to his feet.

'Ugh, gross,' he muttered, wiping his face on his jacket as he jogged after the two girls and the dog that was still barking at the top of his voice.

Their old friend was standing in the middle of his pumpkin patch, squirting a yellowish liquid onto his precious pumpkins with a large, spray bottle. He straightened up to his full height when the three Gryffindors came into view and shot them a warm smile that was barely visible through the tangles of his long, bushy beard.

'We thought you weren't home,' Harry panted as they came to a halt beside him.

'Ah, I was jus' gettin' started on my pumpkins,' Hagrid chuckled. He took a moment to give them a once-over, his beetle-black eyes twinkling cheerfully, before literally scooping all three of them into his enormous arms in a rib-breaking hug. 'Heh, I've missed yeh three. Good ter see yeh back again in one piece!'

'Yeah, ow,' Harry gasped, somehow managing to squeeze out a laugh through her crushed lungs. 'But we might ... not ... remain whole if ... you don't ... put us ... down ...'

'Oh, s'rry.' He lowered them to their feet again and ran a sheepish hand through his thick, knotted hair, nearly getting his fingers tangled in them in the process.

Hermione chuckled, panting slightly. 'Yes, it's nice to see you again, Hagrid.' She glanced around and remarked, 'Is it me or are your pumpkins bigger than ever?'

'Yeah, look at that one!' Ron exclaimed, pointing at a particularly large pumpkin that fairly resembled a boulder. 'Wow, Hagrid, how'd you do that?'

'Heh, t'was Professor McGonagall;' Hagrid answered, bending down to examine one of the overgrown fruits, 'she came 'round a couple days ago, sayin' that she wanted some spectacular pumpkins fer Halloween.'

'Huh? But it's only the first week of September,' pointed out Harry, who had not missed the fact that Hagrid had deliberately side-stepped Ron's actual question – though she was pretty sure that they all knew how Hagrid had "done" it; she could see his pink umbrella leaning innocently against the wall of his hut.

'Yeh, I know, bu' see, them teachers have bin plannin' some events fer this year, an' I s'pose that Professor McGonagall wanted the pumpkins ter be extraordinary fer Halloween, so she came ter gimme a decen' head's up.'

'What events –?' Hermione started to ask, but Ron cut across her with an appalled look on his face as if his worst nightmare had just come true, 'Events? Hagrid, by events you don't mean something like – like ... a Halloween Dance or something, do you?!'

Hagrid looked up at him amusedly. 'No, Ron, I think that the Headmistress jus' wants a really nice Halloween feast fer all of yeh.'

Ron heaved a sigh of relief. 'Oh, thank Merlin –!'

'But I think that they did say summat abou' holdin' a Ball aroun' Christmas ...'

'WHAT?!'

'There you are, Draco! We've been wondering where you'd got to!'

Draco narrowed his eyes at the woman who was approaching them. 'What do you want, Skeeter?' he growled.

The leer on the features of Rita Skeeter widened and she let out a merry laugh as she flipped her blonde hair, which was curled to perfection, over her slim shoulders. Trotting behind her came her faithful photographer, who had his large camera held at the ready and a devoted smile to match.

'Now, now, Draco,' the reporter chided as she came to a stop in front of him, with that accursed grin still etched onto her face, 'is that any way to greet an old friend?'

Before Draco could reply, another voice cut in, 'An old friend?'

Draco, Rita and the other wizard all turned to look at Blaise who was now sitting upright on the boulder. 'You never told me that you knew her personally, Draco,' he said confusedly.

'And who would you be?' Rita asked in a sickly-sweet voice, sizing up the Slytherin she had just noticed with shrewish eyes.

'He's my friend,' Draco answered for Blaise, frowning down at the blonde witch, 'something that you are not, Skeeter. I'll explain later,' he added over his shoulder to Blaise in a whisper. The brunet looked up at him for a second before nodding silently.

'Oh, you wound me, Draco –'

'Why are you here?' Draco interrupted Rita sharply. Inwardly, he feared that he knew the reason, but Merlin, please, don't let it be so...

'Alright, let's just get right to the point, shall we?' Rita simpered, not the least bit affected by the Slytherin's unwelcoming attitude. 'You see, Draco, I, unlike other reporters, do not like getting my information second-hand nor do I fabricate my own views and theories in the Prophet –'

He did not even bother to fight down the derisive snort that escaped him at that. Why, if that was not the biggest, fattest, most elephantine lie he had ever heard in his life...

'– no, I like getting information straight from the sources,' Rita went on carelessly, ignoring his outward show of sarcasm. 'You might have noticed that I refrained from publicizing any of my own articles concerning your engagement in the Prophet?'

A part of Draco's mind was sulking about how his guess as to why Rita had come to Hogwarts had been correct, while the other half pondered on her last words. He blinked, realising that she was right. Though he had not fully registered the fact until now, there really had not been any articles by Rita Skeeter over the past three months about his current situation. Draco looked down at the woman warily. What is she up to?

'Why are you here?' He repeated for lack of anything better to say.

Rita smiled sweetly at him. 'For an interview, Draco,' she purred. 'Since your mother had strictly banned any reporters from arriving at your manor over the summer to interview you, it resulted in many of them making up there own views of your state of affairs. However,' she tipped her head to one side, 'you're not safe at home now, are you? You're here at Hogwarts and I, of course, am not going to let the opportunity of being the first reporter to personally question you about your engagement go by.

'And yes, before you ask, I'm perfectly authorised to be here as the headmistress has kindly given me permission to enter the school grounds to have a little tête-à-tête with the Wizarding World's most eligible bachelor – who, much to the dejection of many a young witch and disappointed mama, is now quite unavailable.' She leered coyly at him.

'I wasn't informed that this interview was to take place today!' Draco hissed, glowering at her and pointedly ignoring her implied come-on to him.

'Of course not,' the woman said with an innocent shrug, 'we only got here an hour or so ago and most of the time that followed was spent persuading the headmistress to allow us free reign in the school for a few hours.'

'I don't care! You –!'

'If I remember correctly, reporters are obligated to ask individuals for their consent to hold interviews before they can be arranged,' Blaise spoke over his friend at that moment, frowning at the reporter. 'You have no right to demand any answers of Draco even if Professor McGonagall has allowed you into the grounds.'

Rita shot him a cold look, eyes filling with dislike. 'Well, I'm asking for his permission right now, aren't I?' she said coolly. 'Well, Draco, how about it?' She turned back to the object of her interest. 'Will you answer a few questions – and believe me, they're only a fair few – or ...' her lips curled up in a smirk, 'are you feeling too shy to talk about your fiancée?'

Draco clenched his teeth. 'Fine, but I'll only answer the questions that I want to.'

'Lovely!' Rita crowed triumphantly, flashing her sparkle-white teeth at him. 'Now, shall we go inside to seek a suitable place for –?'

'Right here is fine, Skeeter,' Draco cut across her bluntly, pointedly sitting down on the boulder beside his friend. 'And Blaise is staying,' he added firmly upon seeing Rita open her mouth as she looked at the half-Italian.

'Have it your way then,' she chirped, sitting down comfortably on the grass, undaunted by its moisture. Her photographer looked down at her, nonplussed, before hesitantly lowering himself onto the ground as well.

'Right, let's get started.' She snapped open the crocodile-skin hand bag she always carried with her and whipped out some parchment and an acid-green quill. Draco's eyes widened slightly.

'No!' he said sharply. 'If you're going to use that damn quill, then this so-called interview is over!'

Rita laughed lightly. 'That's rather hypocritical of you, isn't it, Draco? Especially considering what a sly little fox you were during the Triwizard Tournament ...'

The Slytherin tensed as he glared at her slightly. Did she have to bring that up now? Beside him, he could sense Blaise staring at him. He did not need to look to know that his friend was probably feeling very curious by now and somewhat worried. He drew in a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

The reporter chuckled again, and this time, there was a mocking hint to it. 'Ah, well, no need to worry, Draco,' she smiled sweetly at him, 'I shall write down your answers word for word. I'll show you it to you if you don't believe me ...'

He exhaled slowly through his mouth before nodding finally. 'Fine, but if that quill of yours distorts anything that I say ...'

Rita took the quill delicately and sucked on its end before carefully placing its tip on the parchment where it remained perfectly balanced and ready. 'Alright, let's start with the simplest,' she began in a mock, business-like tone, 'how did this engagement come about?'

Ron looked horrified; absolutely one hundred percent horrified.

'Hagrid, please tell me that you were joking just now!'

Their giant friend, still bent over his precious pumpkins, looked up at the Weasley with some concern. 'Wha's wrong, Ron?'

'The ball!' he cried, waving his arms wildly. 'You were joking about the ball thing around Christmas, right?!'

'Er, Ron ...' Harry began to try to calm the red-head down, exchanging a half-amused half-worried look with Hermione at the same time, but her male best friend did not spare any attention to her. He was still staring almost accusingly at Hagrid.

'No, Ron, I wasn' jokin',' Hagrid answered, straightening up. 'I did hear some o' the teachers, includin' Professor McGonagall, talkin' about it. Though if it makes yeh feel better,' he added quickly upon seeing the puce colour that was spreading rapidly across the red-head's face, 'I don' think it's bin confirmed yet.'

'Hagrid,' Hermione said loudly before Ron could locate his vocal cords again, 'what exactly are these events that the teachers are planning?'

'And why are they planning them for this year?' Harry added, puzzled.

'Ah, well, I don' know much about 'em,' Hagrid admitted, picking up his spray bottle again and squirting the yellowish liquid onto the leaves of one his pumpkins. 'What I know fer certain is that they're goin' ter hold a special ceremony aroun' Easter in remembrance of all the Hogwartians and everyone else that died here fightin' You-Know-Who. Yeh know, ter pay 'em our respects.'

'Oh, I see!' Hermione's expression cleared.

'But what's with the bloody ball?' Ron exclaimed, still looking as if he was about to have a seizure.

'Still got yer knickers in a twist abou' that, I see,' Hagrid's beard twitched. Harry and Hermione snorted, causing the red-head to scowl and haughtily fold his arms. 'Well, Ron, like I said, I ain' sure abou' the ball, but if they do choose ter hold it, I s'pose it'd be ter give the students and teachers the chance ter enjoy themselves and properly celebrate the end o' the War.'

'I see ...' murmured Harry in a less-than-enthusiastic voice. Though she was not quite as appalled as Ron, she did share his dislike of such events.

'But don' fret too much about it, Ron,' the half-giant grinned down at the teen, 'it ain' confirmed yet.'

'Whatever, I hate balls,' Ron groused, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Hermione gazed at him for a second before turning her eyes away, and Harry caught a sudden look of sadness that flitted across her face momentarily before disappearing.

'Well, anyway,' Hagrid boomed cheerfully, 'I'm done with the pumpkins. Le's go inside fer some tea and yeh can tell me all abou' yer firs' week back!'

Five minutes later, all four of them were seated inside Hagrid's hut with mugs of steaming tea and a plate of rock cakes – which none of the Gryffindors dared to touch – in front of them. Their conversation revolved around school, their lessons and Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class for which, he joyfully announced, quite a remarkable amount of third years had signed up for this year.

Harry listened and participated in the talk with enthusiasm. However, her cheery mood lessened drastically when Hagrid suddenly asked them if they knew of any new interesting happenings. After all, the first thing that came to her mind at his question was a certain blond-haired Slytherin and a white-gold ring that rested on her finger.

She bit her lip, suddenly feeling a little nervous and hesitant. Should she tell Hagrid about that particular turn of events?

Harry was saved the necessity of making a decision right away for, at that moment, Hermione began to recount her trip to Australia to bring back her parents. Harry heaved a mental sigh of relief, but then her thoughts turned back to the dilemma in her mind.

She looked down at her gloved hand contemplatively. If there was one person in the entire world who deserved to know of even the smallest thing that affected her, it was Rubeus Hagrid. He was the first wizard from the Wizarding World that she had known (not counting the odd witch or wizard that she had randomly run into before discovering her magical inheritance), the first friend that she had ever had, and the person who had taken it upon himself to make sure that she learned the truth about herself and had helped her enter the world to which she truly belonged. He deserved to know...

But, Harry argued with herself, too many people already know about this. It would have been fine if only Ron and Hermione knew, but Ginny, Neville and Luna knew about the ring, too. Of course, Harry had complete faith in all of her friends to keep her secret, but there was always that small possibility that somehow, someone's tongue might unwittingly slip. And the more people that knew about her engagement, the more those chances rose ... and that was not a wager that Harry could afford to make. Not if she wanted to make absolutely sure that Malfoy never found out about her. And what with the things that Ron told me this morning...

Later, she told herself decisively. She would confide in Hagrid later, when the entire mess had been cleaned up; when she was a free, unattached woman again. I'll tell him later.

'So, are yer parents fine now?' Hagrid asked when Hermione finished.

She nodded happily. 'Yes, and I was able to lift the Memory Charms, too, and they're perfectly all right now, thank Merlin.'

'Tha's good,' the half-giant grinned back at her. 'So ... anythin' else?'

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but then snapped it shut again suddenly. She glanced at Harry for a second, and the black-haired girl realised at once that she was wondering if they should tell Hagrid about Harry's engagement to Malfoy or not. Guilt rose up inside her, but nevertheless, she very slowly shook her head at Hermione.

Her friend looked at her silently for a moment before giving a barely perceptible nod in understanding. She turned back to Hagrid. 'No, Hagrid, nothing much other than that.' Hermione chuckled slightly. 'After the war, the sudden peace and everything feels a little strange, doesn't it?'

Hagrid nodded in agreement. 'Sure does...'

'Wait,' Ron said suddenly, sitting up straight, 'that reminds me. Hagrid, why don't we have a Defense teacher this year?'

Hagrid's eyes widened and he nearly choked on a mouthful of tea. Harry quickly rose and thumped him on the back when he began to cough.

'A Defense teacher?' He repeated once he had managed to breathe properly again.

'Yes,' Harry nodded, sitting down in her chair again. 'Is something going on, Hagrid? We've never not had a Defense professor before.'

'Ah ...' Hagrid wiped the tea off his mouth and beard with an over-sized napkin. Harry could not help but notice that he was deliberately avoiding their eyes. 'Well, yeh see, the war jus' ended, so I s'pose that Professor McGonagall couldn' find someone fer the post so soon.'

'That's what we thought, but,' Harry looked shrewdly at her old friend, 'then why didn't she say anything about that during the Welcome Feast? And why were we informed of our teacher's absence only through a small notice that was put up on the door of the classroom?'

'And why is Defense even registered on our timetables if we don't have a teacher for this year?' Ron added, frowning in confusion.

Hagrid chuckled uneasily. 'Ah, I dunno. Listen, yeh three, don' beat yer brains about it, a'right? I'm sure there's a reason fer all o' this.'

And I'm sure that you know that reason, Harry thought to herself, but chose to keep silent.

'An' I'm certain that the headmistress will tell yeh if it's anythin' important,' he added, putting down his now empty mug on the table. 'So! Who wants ter go say hello ter Buckbeak?' He grinned disarmingly at them.

The three Gryffindors stared at him, none of them fooled. Harry sighed slightly. Obviously, Hagrid was very reluctant to tell them anything, but that made her even more uneasy about the whole affair. But she could tell that they would not be able to squeeze any information out of him. His obstinacy was impressive – their fruitless efforts to get him to talk about Nicholas Flamel back in first year were solid proof of that.

'All right, then, Hagrid,' she humoured him, getting to her feet, 'let's go see Buckbeak. Where is he anyway?' She did not miss the look of intense relief that passed across his face.

'In that li'l paddock in the Forest where yeh firs' saw him with the other Hippogriffs,' Hagrid answered cheerfully as he lead them outside. 'Le's go. He's bin missin' yeh, Harry.'

Draco was gradually loosing his mind. The process was slow, but it was definitely happening. A few questions – like hell it was just a few questions! No wonder his mother had banned any reporters from their manor during the summer! She had probably foreseen his loss of sanity had they been able to get hold of him for a cross-examination.

'Are you done now?' he asked wearily after having given Rita Skeeter a thorough description of how a ring owner used their rings. He looked down irritably at the woman who was going through her notes.

To his surprise, she had actually kept most of her questions quite professional, but she had craftily tried to squeeze some personal information out of him as well. Draco was really glad that he had made Blaise stay back with him. Had his friend not nudged him in the ribs halfway through the interview, Draco would have found himself unwittingly revealing the exact the wishes he made to Rita (the cunning vixen!) – and that was not something he ever wanted to see printed in the papers. The very thought of the response that would have gotten – especially from various women – made him shudder.

'Almost, Draco,' Rita chirped, not sounding the least bit drained even though she had been questioning him for nearly an hour straight. She scanned her notes again for a moment before looking up at him with a bright smile. 'There's just one more...'

'Finally.' He rolled his eyes. Blaise chuckled amusedly from beside him.

'Now, Draco,' she was using her mock business-like voice again, 'to ask the question that the entire British Wizarding community has been dying to ask you ...' her smile transformed into a hungry leer. 'Who is the lucky girl that is soon to become the next Madam Malfoy?'

Draco's mouth went dry and his eyes hardened. He looked down at Rita's grinning face, trying very hard to keep his breathing normal and his face devoid of any emotions. Did she have to ask that? It was an inevitable question, he supposed, but he had hoped that it would slip her mind. He did not want to answer it. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to know that even after three whole months, even after coming back to Hogwarts, he still did not know who his fiancée was; that the girl had not so much as even made an attempt to contact him; that he had begun to fear, perhaps a little irrationally, that he would never know who it was...

'Well, Draco...?' Rita tipped her head to one side. The Quick Quotes Quill was quivering in its place on her parchment, as if impatient to jot down something.

He released a shaky breath. 'No comment,' he finally managed to say.

Surprise flickered through Rita's eyes for a moment, before her entire face lit up in glee. 'Are you telling me that you don't even know?!' she crowed.

Draco looked sharply at her. 'I did not say that! Forgive me if I don't want the whole world to know who my fiancée is right now!'

She laughed cheerily. 'Is that right? But I doubt that, Draco. That odd expression on your face strongly suggests that you don't really know who she is.' She smirked victoriously at him when she saw the surprise that flickered in his eyes.

His hands balled into fists. 'I said I have no comments about it, Rita,' he growled. 'It doesn't mean that I don't know who she is. It means that I don't want you to know! Now, if you are quite finished with your damn interview –!'

'All right, all right, I'm leaving,' Rita sang, still smiling infuriatingly. She rose to her feet and delicately smoothed down her robes.

Draco got to his feet, too, and held out his hand. She raised her eyebrows at him in mild confusion. 'Your notes,' he said pointedly. 'You promised.'

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she handed them over. With a discerning eye, Draco began to read through them and only handed them back after he had ensured that her acid-green quill had not altered anything he had said. To his mild surprise, she had actually noted down everything exactly as he had reported, but at the same time, that made him feel slightly edgy as well. Why that was so, he could not figure out.

Rita took back her notes from him with a flourish and carefully placed them and her quill in her crocodile-skin handbag, before fixing her shrewish eyes on him again.

'I must say, Draco, I'm rather surprised that you're still unaware of your betrothed's identity,' she remarked dryly. Draco opened his mouth to make the same retort he had made before, but she cut him off, 'After all, every witch in the Wizarding World is now dreaming of your engagement and wishing to be your fiancée. And after three months and a week back in Hogwarts, I was quite certain that she would have impatiently introduced herself to you by now, but this is quite unexpected ... It makes me wonder,' her lips curled up slightly, 'did your ring actually accomplish its job or ... has the girl already gotten the ring, but does not want this engagement with you and is avoiding you altogether?'

Draco's eyes widened as her last words cut right through him. He wanted to close his ears against them and protest over and over again that it was not so. That there was another reason why she still had not come forth; that she would definitely come to him soon ... but he could not. Because over the past few months, especially that night in the library right before he had gotten into that row with Weasley, he had begun to wonder the exact same thing...

Rita saw the kaleidoscope of emotions that flashed across his face and a large grin spread across her face. 'Well,' she said in a merry voice, 'I think that interview went quite well. It was nice talking to you, Draco. Perhaps I'll drop by again sometime later.' She winked at him before turning to walk away.

Draco just stared at her retreating back listlessly, his eyes emotionless. He barely noticed it when Rita's photographer took a picture of him before following her. He could not think of anything, except what she had said...

'Draco.'

He looked around blankly at Blaise who was now looking at him with concern. 'Draco,' he repeated firmly, 'if I were you, I wouldn't listen to Skeeter. Don't pay any attention to what she said. You know that it's not true.'

'Do I know that, Blaise?' Draco asked softly. 'Do I really know whether the girl will reveal herself or not?'

'She will, Draco. You're losing heart too soon. It's only been a few days since you came back to Hogwarts. There's still time. Besides,' he added wisely, 'she could be anywhere. How do we even know if she attends the same school as ours? She could be somewhere else, and perhaps she is unable to personally introduce herself to you right now.'

'Blaise,' he replied quietly, 'I doubt that. When I was making my wishes, I made it clear to the ring that I would prefer someone I already know – and all the women that I know are here in Hogwarts; I don't know any girls outside school. And think about it: it's been three months, and a week since I came back to school – isn't that sufficient enough time for her to finally come up and reveal herself to me?'

'Maybe she's shy, Draco,' Blaise pointed out.

'Or ... maybe Skeeter is right,' Draco mumbled, staring off into space. 'Maybe she really doesn't want anything to do with me...'

'Drake –!' Blaise began sharply, but Draco was no longer listening. He began to walk away towards the forest.

'I want some time alone, Blaise ... I'll be back later.'

His friend could only watch with trepidation and worry as the blond disappeared into the trees.

'HARRY! There you are!'

Harry jumped in surprise at the loud voice that sounded from behind her. She turned away from a very happy and contented Buckbeak that she and her three friends had been stroking, to see a flushed and widely grinning Ginny Weasley come running up to them through the trees that surrounded the paddock.

'Ginny?' Ron said, looking round at his sister in puzzlement.

'What is it, Gin?' Harry asked, stepping towards the red-haired Weasley girl who came to a stop a few feet away from her.

'Here,' she held out a small roll of parchment to Harry which the black-haired girl accepted. Ginny leaned her palms against her knees, trying to catch her breath. 'It's from ... Professor ... McGonagall ...' she panted, a wide smile still on her face.

Raising her eyebrows, Harry quickly undid the seal and unrolled the parchment.

'Wha's it say?' Hagrid asked as he tethered his beloved Hippogriff to a low, but strong-looking post that stood in the middle of the enclosure. 'Yer not in trouble again, are yeh?'

Harry scanned through the letter quickly, choosing to ignore Hagrid's unintended insult. 'McGonagall wants to see me in her office tonight,' she murmured, her brows furrowing. 'Hmm, that's all it says.'

'I wonder what she wants to talk to you about,' Hermione commented thoughtfully, giving Buckbeak one last pet on the beak before stepping away from him. 'Ginny,' she added, looking around at the younger girl, 'why do you look so happy?'

The grin on Ginny's face widened even more as she straightened up from her bent posture. 'Oh Merlin, you won't believe ...' she gasped through helpless giggles. 'You guys, Seamus ... he ... he ...' She began to laugh uncontrollably again. 'Oh, you have to see it! He's just set it up in the Entrance Hall.'

'Seamus? Set what up? What are you talking about?' Ron asked confusedly.

'Oh, come on! You have to see it!' Ginny began to run back towards the castle again, still laughing. The three seventh years exchanged looks of bewilderment before they took off after the red-haired girl. Hagrid merely laughed at the sight of them before waving at their retreating forms with a yell of, 'I'll see yeh later, then!'

'Ginny,' Harry huffed as she leapt over a fallen log, 'what exactly is Seamus up to?'

'You'll see,' Ginny panted; the grin on her face was evident even in her voice. 'He's got guts, that bloke!'

Hermione began to laugh at that. 'I think I can guess now.'

Still trying to figure it all out, Harry continued to run after her fellow Gryffindors. They weaved through the tall trees and had almost made it out of the forest when she saw what looked like a bright flash in her peripheral vision. Taken by surprise, she slowed to a walk and turned back to face the way she had come.

At first, she saw nothing as she gazed around at the greenery, taking in how the late morning light filtered down through the canopy of leaves. Her eyes searched for that flash again. What was it?

Harry stood still for a long moment. The sound of her friends, none of whom had noticed that she had fallen back, slowly faded away into the distance. She licked her lips and began to turn away, wondering if she had only imagined it, but just as she was about to leave, she saw it out of the corner of her eyes again and Harry whirled around at once.

Huh? Malfoy?

She stared at the Slytherin who was silently making his way through the trees. He was about thirty or so feet away from her to her right, and had not noticed her yet. Harry quickly stepped behind the nearest tree and peered out from behind its trunk curiously.

He continued to walk further away from her, hands buried deep into his pockets and his head hanging low. The beams of sunlight that managed to squeeze through the leafy canopy overhead occasionally struck him, lighting up his pale hair, and Harry realised that that must have been the flash she had seen.

Harry gazed at him for a few more seconds. She had never seen Malfoy wandering about in the Forbidden Forest alone before and his purpose and motives intrigued her. What's he doing here? She wondered before carefully stepping out from behind the tree. Making sure not to step on any twigs as much as possible, Harry began to follow him deeper into the forest, eager to sate her curiosity.

Draco finally stopped walking when he arrived at a small open space in the forest. He looked around the small clearing and, not seeing any creatures occupying the place, proceeded over to a large rock that stood somewhere close to the centre of the small glade and sat down. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his face in his palms before he finally allowed his mind, which had been blissfully blank till then, to wander and reflect on the matter at hand.

... Has the girl already gotten the ring, but does not want this engagement with you and is avoiding you altogether? Rita Skeeter's words rang once more through his mind and Draco squeezed his eyes shut. Was that truly the reason? He wondered, trying to stay calm. The reporter might not have realised it back then, but she had nailed it straight home. Draco himself had been thinking along the same lines, but he had done so tentatively and had never pondered on it for long, fearing that it might be true. He did not want to imagine why someone would be so revolted at the very thought of him that she would not even let him know that it was she who had been chosen by the ring.

He took a deep breath. Maybe it's not true, he told himself, like Blaise said. There may be a lot of reasons as to why she's still not here. But try as he might, he could not convince himself. After all, a long time had passed since his birthday and Draco could not think of a reasonable excuse as to why the girl had not even sent ahead so much as a letter to him. Also, there was the fact that the only girls he actually knew were those that attended Hogwarts with him. after a week, surely she should have come round by now?

Or did the magic on the ring malfunction like Skeeter said? He wondered desperately, but even then, he knew that it could not be so. The enchantments cast on the rings had remained intact throughout the centuries, and they had been stored in the Malfoy vault in Gringotts, even after the escape of that dragon, under the highest security. Not to mention that they had had the greatest and strongest protection wards that his parents could think of cast upon them. There was no possibility that the rings were tampered with – and he seriously doubted that wizards nowadays would know of any spells strong enough to damage them.

Draco sighed into his hands. Whichever way he thought of it, it all pointed to the same thing: his fiancée wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. She would not even approach him. Draco did not want to finish that thought off as his final conclusion. He wanted to believe that there really could be another explanation, but for the moment, he could think of nothing.

Perhaps this is my punishment, he thought, lifting his head and staring into the trees. For believing in the Dark Lord and his ideals, for betraying the Light, for being such a bastard for all these years ... All he had asked of the rings was for someone with a kind heart and morals that would love him and give him the chance to redeem himself, but he still had not found her ... and maybe that was because he did not deserve a woman like her...

Draco continued to stare into space with dull eyes. He felt tired and he did not want to think anymore, but the thoughts refused to leave his mind. Unable to help himself, he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, one that he had taken to carrying around with him as a source of hope and comfort. He eyed the dark navy velvet that covered it before opening it carefully. Inside, resting on a velvet cushion that was of a lighter blue was a small crystal pendant in the shape of a teardrop that hung on a delicate, silver chain.

Carefully, he removed it from the box and held it up to the sunlight, admiring the millions of sparkles that the gem gave off. A small smile lit his face for a moment before fading. The necklace had been his mother's gift to him on his birthday. It belonged to my mother before me, and it's been in the Black family for many generations, she had told him that day. When you find your fiancée, and if you decide that she's the one for you, give it to her, Dragon. As a symbol of both our love for her, and to welcome her to our family.

He stroked the crystal with a finger before placing it back in its box. He was beginning to doubt that he would ever be able to give this necklace to that girl, whoever she might be.

Draco stood up and put the box back into his pocket. He was about to turn and return to the castle when he felt the presence of something else in the clearing. Startled, he turned his head and froze to the spot when he saw what it was that had joined him.

It stood in the shadows where the sunlight could not reach it, still and unmoving as it gazed at him with its pupil-less, white eyes. The strong, black wings stretched once before they were folded back again close to the flesh-less horse-like body. A low, guttural noise sounded from deep within its throat and it took a hesitant step towards him.

The Slytherin stood still for a moment, but then he cautiously began to walk towards the Thestral, drawn to the beast. It watched his approach with wary eyes, but did not run off nor make a move to attack. When he was just a couple of feet away from the creature, Draco halted and raised a hand uncertainly. The Thestral did not move for a long moment and the blond almost lowered his hand again, but then it stepped forward and nuzzled Draco's inviting palm.

He could not stop the smile that broke across his face and he stepped closer to the creature. With his other hand, he stroked its long, black mane, surprised at and loving the softness of the messy hair. It let loose another raspy sound, but this time, it sounded like it was enjoying the attention.

'You know,' Draco murmured softly, not caring that he was talking to a creature that probably did not understand a word that he was saying, 'at first, your strange appearance can scare off anybody who crosses your path. But if they give you a second chance, then no one can deny your beauty...'

He eyed the creature, which now had its eyes closed as he wound his fingers in its mane, before asking quietly, 'Do you believe that everyone, even people like me, deserve a second chance to prove themselves...?'

The only answer he received was a soft snort and nothing more.

From her hiding place behind another tree, Harry stared at the scene in front of her with wide, thoughtful eyes. For the first time, she was at a loss for words; she had no idea what to think.

She had followed Malfoy all the way to this little clearing and there was nothing that she could make of his actions. Well, technically, he had not actually done anything. But when she had seen him sitting on that rock with such a brooding look on his face, and when he had been examining whatever it was that he had taken out of his pocket, her curiosity about what had been on his mind had reached its peak. She did not know why she felt so drawn to him, or why she felt such great interest in his thoughts, but it gnawed at her mind incessantly.

And now ... Harry watched him stroke the Thestral with slow, tender movements. A small smile still graced his face, highlighting his good looks, and he was standing right in a beam of sunlight that filtered through the leaves and formed a halo of light around his blond hair. A part of her mind wondered whose death it was that Malfoy had witnessed to be able to see a Thestral; the other half remained focussed on how calm he now looked in sharp contrast to the earlier pensiveness that had surrounded him.

Harry stood where she was for a few more minutes, watching him stroking and murmuring to his companion, and then she turned and headed back to the castle as silently as she could. A part of her wanted to go back and watch that tranquil, serene scene again, but she could not shake off the feeling that she was intruding on something private and personal.

However, Harry could not help but turn to look over her shoulder one last time. And, at that moment, all she could think was that she had never before seen Draco Malfoy look so human as he did then.

A/N: Before you start asking/accusing me: YES, darlings, the time for THE BIG REVEAL is extremely close! Also, why Draco is being so infuriatingly blind, and why Harry has been acting so childish about the whole thing - there are reasons behind them. Not ground-breaking earth-shaking stuff, oh no, but there are reasons. They will be revealed in due time.

Credit for Ron's comment about Draco being "Hogwarts' resident aristoprick" goes to Isabelle Eir, who referred to Draco as such in one of her reviews. Truly, it's an awesome and very accurate way of describing Draco Malfoy. ;P

On another note: if there are any ideas for this fic that you'd like to tell me, then fire away. I cannot make any promises, but I'd be glad to hear them. :)

Feedback, especially constructive criticism, will be much loved and appreciated! Thank you, all my lovely readers and reviewers!

ON THE WAY: CHAPTER TWELVE - Cat's Out of the Bag?