DISCLAIMER: All canon characters and the Harry Potter-verse belongs 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: HOLY SMOKES, YES, I'M UPDATING!!! If you guys have checked my profile recently, then you've probably seen the notice about my exams that stretches on to the end of June (NOT July; my mistake -_-). I wasn't planning on writing fanfiction until they were over, but during the two week free period they gave between our mock exams and official Finals, inspiration hit and here I am with another chapter for y'all! Rejoice! :P LOL

This chappy contains a lot of things I've been wanting to put in for sometime now. So, enjoy, ne! ^^

CHAPTER NINETEEN: CHAOS AND TRUTHS

For Harry, it was a glorious sight. The handsome screech owl rose higher and higher, just visible to the small group of spectators below as it soared away to the south, a large envelope dangling from its legs. It disappeared over the leafy peaks of the Forbidden Forest and Harry heaved a small sigh of anticipation, already impatient for the arrival of the next morning when the truth would be unleashed to the world.

She doubted that even the ever sly Rita Skeeter would be able to crawl her way out of that hole.

'Well,' sounded Hermione's voice from behind her, 'that's that. It's up to The Quibbler now.'

Smiling, Harry turned to face them; Ron, Hermione, Luna, Dennis, Blaise and Malfoy – all of whom had convened at the Entrance Hall this Thursday night like they had previously agreed. Giving their signatures as witnesses of Rita Skeeter's illegal unregistered Animagus form had seemed strangely like signing a pact, much like when Hermione had had the original DA sign their oaths of secrecy three years go, but this one was a bigger deal with much greater consequences.

Harry could barely wait to see them.

'So, Mr Lovegood will publish the pictures in tomorrow's edition?' asked Hermione of Luna, checking her watch. 'It's nearly seven already. Will he have enough time?'

'Oh yes,' the Ravenclaw nodded seriously, her protuberant eyes very wide. 'I sent ahead a note to Daddy last night. He's already prepared.'

'Good thinking,' Ron grinned.

'Yeah, so ...' began Dennis, who, despite his enthusiasm, had not said a word since handing over Skeeter's photographs that evening. He looked over at Harry with tentative hope. 'Does this mean that ... I mean,' he cleared his throat awkwardly when everyone turned to look at him. 'Am I ... you know?'

He looked so hopeful that Harry had to smile, knowing perfectly well what he was trying to say. 'Yes, you are, Dennis,' she said simply. 'You sort of made it up to me by helping me with this. But remember, next time...'

The fifth year nodded vigorously, his joyful relief unmasked. 'I know, I know: it won't happen again. I swear.'

'Well, all right then,' spoke up Blaise, who had been leaning against the Entrance door with a silent, blank-faced Draco that was gazing at where the owl had disappeared into the night. 'We should get back. Thanks, Harry; it was fun bringing the bug down. Do you need us for anything else?'

'Nope. Just wait for the chaos tomorrow.'

Her words were met with a round of grins and quiet laughter and, offering their goodnights, the small band broke up. Dennis, Luna and Hermione headed back inside while Harry and Ron, who had Quidditch practice in less than ten minutes, began to make for the pitch. However, before they had made it to the bottom of the steps outside, Blaise urgently called her back again.

'Listen, Harry,' he said when she turned to face him, 'the deadline for the Verita Potion is Friday next week and we still have some minor adjustments to make. Do you think we can squeeze in an extra session before that? Apart from our usual Tuesday and Thursday, I mean.'

Harry's brows knitted together in a troubled frown as she considered the matter. 'Hang on, let me think...'

Raising an eyebrow, the Slytherin shot her a perceptive look. 'Busy schedule?' he asked shrewdly.

'Damn straight. Apart from our Potions nights, I have Quiddtich practice three times a week, including Saturday,' she explained, ticking the days off her fingers, 'and Professor McGonagall also wants me to hold Defence classes on Fridays and Sundays, which ... were my remaining free evenings. So ...'

'Oh yes, I saw the notice about your Defence lessons –'

'You work every single night?'

Harry looked round, surprised, as Draco Malfoy spoke for the first time since they had gathered together that evening. He had finally torn his eyes away from the dusky sky and was gazing at her with a peculiar expression.

'Yes, pretty much,' she answered slowly, curious about his strange reaction. 'Why do you ask?'

'What, you're not free even on your weekends?' snapped Malfoy, his tone uncommonly sharp and almost accusing.

Harry raised her eyebrows, surprise and annoyance awakening within her at his rude response, but Ron beat her to the punch.

'Some people actually work, Malfoy. It's not an unknown concept among us commoners,' he said scathingly, scowling at the Slytherin. The blond retaliated with a withering glare and Harry had to wonder how – if at all – they managed to stay civil enough to work together on a Potions' project without blowing the dungeons to kingdom come.

Nevertheless, arguments were not going to help the situation and Harry placed a hand on Ron's arm, silently asking him to let things be. She did not see the dark look that crossed her fiancé's features as his eyes locked on her hand placement before he schooled his expression back to neutral.

Turning back to Malfoy, she repeated, 'Why?'

Looking inexplicably angry, he turned his head away. 'Never mind.'

Harry stared at him, perplexed at his abrupt mood swing. Things had been fine so far – heck, things had been as fine and civil as was possible between them, even after their embarrassing conversation the night before, but now ... what? She turned to Blaise for an explanation, but he simply rolled a shoulder, shooting a speculative look at his friend.

Suppressing a groan, Harry gave up. There really was no way to understand how the wheels turned in Malfoy's brain.

Coolly ignoring him, she turned back to her Potions' partner. 'I'll be pretty busy, but I only have practice on Saturday morning, so we might be able to meet up later that day. I'll let you know.'

'That'd be great, thanks. See you tomorrow.'

Harry returned the parting and turned to leave with Ron without another glance at the other Slytherin. As they left for the Quidditch pitch at a light run, she could have sworn she heard Malfoy say her name softly.

She did not look back.

Later that night, Draco found himself alone in the common room, the rest of his housemates already having gone off to bed. All apart from Blaise who had left his side earlier in the evening without explanation and had yet to turn up since. Feeling a little worried about his friend as it was half past ten and past curfew, the Slytherin made himself more comfortable in his fireside sofa and gazed at the dying flames, willing his mind to stay blank. But every so often, images of messy black hair and vividly green eyes flashed through his mind, unbidden.

He should not have been so short with Potter back in the Entrance Hall, Draco reflected, watching the fire steadily diminish to embers. For once, things had been peaceful – almost friendly – between him and Hariah Potter, but a few unintentionally brusque words from him earlier that evening and they had gone right back to square one ... almost. The animosity was drastically decreased, but their short-lived civility had drained away as soon as he had reacted so negatively to Potter's announcement of her full schedule.

What must she have thought of him? He berated himself as he recalled her reaction of utter bewilderment to his abrupt outburst. Not that he could blame her: he must have sounded quite bizarre, shouting for no apparent reason, but now he wished he had taken the time to explain himself to her.

I should have seen this coming.

He had spent so long trying to find his elusive fiancée and, afterwards, persuading her to give him a chance that he had not spared much thought to what might come after. Now here he was, faced with the overwhelming prospect of possibly spending his life with a woman who was a million worlds apart from him. Because – for all that he had spent a good portion of his life insulting, obsessing and frequently observing her (from a distance), when it came right down to it – she was still as good as a stranger to him. There were innumerable bridges to build in order to lessen the vast gap between them, foundations that could only be laid over time when she chose to open her heart to him and vice versa, a whole lifetime of hers to learn and his to teach...

And Miss Chosen One had just conveniently dropped the bomb that she had absolutely no time whatsoever to, oh what, build a relationship with the man she had so kindly agreed to consider as a future husband! Well, alright, technically she had simply been informing Blaise that she had a lot on her plate – but if she barely had time for extra Potions with her partner, then Draco could not see how she could give him the time of the day, let alone be involved in "getting to know each other".

Not that that was a really justifiable reason for how he had practically blown up at her in the Entrance Hall, of course not. In fact, people would probably think it incredibly silly of him to be so affected by merely not being able to spend time with Potter, but for Draco, it meant a lot more than he himself could fathom. After all, after a seven year running gag of endless snarking, he finally had his golden opportunity of getting the girl he wanted – and he was to be thwarted merely because said girl could not spare him the time. Bloody brilliant.

This is so ... stupid. He could think of no other word for it; his situation was just utterly stupid.

Draco was glad for the distraction when the wall on the other side of the room slid back to reveal a very wet and extremely annoyed-looking Millicent Bulstrode standing in the corridor beyond, her arms wrapped around her shivering form. Scowling deeply, she stomped into the common room and was momentarily followed by Blaise, who looked as if he was holding back his laughter with great difficulty.

'Finally decided to show up?' Draco drawled at Blaise, sparing a glance at Millicent who had whipped out her wand and was trying to dry her limp, dark hair.

'Got a little sidetracked,' Blaise answered with a chuckle as he came to sit in the armchair opposite Draco. Directing a smirk at the fuming girl, he added, 'It was quite an amusing experience, eh, Millicent?'

'Shut it, Zabini,' she snapped, glaring at them both as she aimed her wand at her robes. 'I'd like to see how you'd enjoy it were you in my position!'

'Surely it wasn't that bad.'

'You're not the one who was pushed into the lake, nearly got dragged down by the bloody Giant Squid and had his tongue down your throat the whole time!!'

Blaise just threw his head back and laughed in open amusement, adding to Millicent's ire while Draco looked back and forth between them, perplexed.

'Anyone care to enlighten me?' he asked, raising an eyebrow. Then the girl's last words really sank in and his lips pulled up in a smirk. 'Exactly whose tongue was down your throat, Millicent? Surely not the Giant Squid's ...?'

Pursing her lips together, the Slytherin girl turned her back on them and kept silent. Draco shot a questioning look at Blaise who, grinning widely, began to explain,

'Little Millie had a surprise run-in with her not-quite-secret admirer tonight.'

The girl in question, now drying her socks and shoes, growled something inaudible under her breath, but Blaise went on as if he had not heard her.

'Do you remember my saying that I fancied teaming up with Seamus Finnegan in his Inter House Unity schemes? Well, I decided to go for it and set out to find him until I saw Leprechaun Boy sneaking out of the castle a little earlier on. I figured that I'd follow him. Maybe I shouldn't have,' he added, leering over at Millicent, 'though I'm not complaining. You two made quite a spectacle!'

Draco smirked again, getting an idea of what had probably ensued. 'I see. And ...?'

'And it turns out that Finnegan had seen her taking a late night walk along the lake – funny, in all these years, I never thought of you as a nature person, Millicent, dear – and then,' Blaise was choking back laughter now, 'he shouted something about taking a leaf out of Harry Potter's book, declared his undying love for his "darlin' Millie" at the top of his voice – and let me tell you, that bloke's got a hell of a set of pipes; he scared birds out of the trees – and then –'

'He shoved his tongue down her throat?' finished Draco with a snort, looking round at Millicent who had gone red in the face. 'Must have been quite a snog, eh?'

'The idiot practically jumped on me!' shouted the girl, mortified and outraged. 'We fell into the lake and it was bloody freezing and the goddamn squid was there and ... aaargh!' she screamed in frustration and stamped her foot in a manner very unlike her usual reserved self.

Unsympathetic, the two Slytherin boys continued to snicker to themselves. With a haughty huff, Millicent shoved Draco out of the way so that he ended up on the other end of the sofa, farthest from the fireside. Taking his previous seat, she built up the dying fire with a quick 'Incendio' and began to warm her hands, ignoring the two boys.

Still smirking, Draco made himself comfortable and drawled, 'Honestly, how you dislike him! I can't hope to imagine how the both of you make it through your Verita project unscathed.'

'Easy. I simply threatened to remove a certain body part of his should he cause us to fail Potions. He started working seriously from then on ... though he takes every opportunity to flirt with me, of course. But tonight...' Her hands clenched into fists.

The blond shook his head in amusement. 'Really though, you should be flattered. I was under the impression that girls are supposed to like it when men publicly declare their love for them?'

She turned to stare at him in disbelief. 'I don't know where the hell you heard that, Malfoy, but there is a huge difference between flattering someone and humiliating them.'

'I see,' Blaise said, nodding mock-seriously. 'So, the fact that a man highly fancies you is ... humiliating?'

'And he does fancy you,' Draco added dryly, folding his arms. 'I have no high opinion of Leprechaun Boy, but even I can't deny that he genuinely seems to want you.'

'Then maybe he should learn the difference between courting someone and shaming them!' Millicent snapped. 'And hanging a huge I-LOVE-YOU banner in the Entrance Hall for the entire school to see or attacking me in the lake is not the way to go about it. It is undignified and embarrassing. I would think that even a retard would know that much!'

'I don't think he meant any harm,' Blaise said fairly.

Upon seeing the look on the girl's face, Draco added pointedly, 'But you did get your revenge, didn't you. You gave Finnegan quite a good beating in return for that banner.'

'And you threw your shoe very hard at him tonight (even though he managed to escape your slap). His buttocks can't be feeling good right now.'

Draco snorted, struggling to hold back his laughter at the vivid, mental image Blaise' words had created.

Millicent, on the other hand, was unmoved. Turning back to the flickering flames, she muttered, 'That's only a temporary satisfaction. It doesn't make people forget what he did ... Tracy and Daphne still tease me about his stupid banner every single time we enter the Entrance Hall. And every idiot in this school thinks that what Finnegan does is funny, but it's not. I find nothing funny about it! But you wouldn't understand that, would you?' She looked up, her eyes steely. 'You don't know what it's like to have people make fun of you all the time or to have someone embarrass you in front of everyone ...' she abruptly froze, something flickering in her eyes as she stared at Draco.

He tensed immediately, recognising the expression on Millicent's face. He knew exactly where this was going.

'Oh, that's right. You do understand how it is to be constantly talked about behind your back, don't you, Draco?' Millicent murmured.

'Don't,' he said quietly.

'Malfoy and Potter this, Malfoy and Potter that ... you have your own "romantic" mess to deal with.'

'Don't, Millicent.'

'What's the point of hiding it? The whole house heard your Howler last night. Us Slytherins know that you're engaged to Hariah Potter and every other fool that picks up the Daily Prophet suspects it at the very least.'

With a weary sigh, he muttered, 'What do you want me to say?'

She shrugged indifferently. 'I don't really give a damn about you and Potter. I'm just pointing out that, frankly, you're in as much deep shit as I am, so keep your remarks about Finnegan chasing me to yourself.'

Blaise, who had been mutely listening in till then, snorted. 'Right, "same shit". Only difference is, he plays the part of wooer, unlike you.'

There was a moment of silence in which Draco frowned at his friend, somewhat surprised that he had chosen to reveal that part. Millicent stared at him, taken aback.

'You mean, your whole engagement is not just a ... you actually want to ... you're chasing Hariah Potter now?' She began to laugh a little disbelievingly, shaking her head. 'My, my, Malfoy. Who would've ever thought ... finally fallen for your enemy, eh?'

'Finally?' repeated Blaise with a meaningful smirk. Draco threw him a hard look, but the damage was done.

'What, you mean he's always loved that lion?' Millicent was positively guffawing now, clutching her stomach. Her eyes gleamed with tears of mirth. 'Well, what a show of hatred you've put on these past seven years, Draco! You certainly convinced me.'

'All right, listen!' Draco snapped loudly, trying to gain the attention of his laughing friends. 'I wasn't and am not in love with Potter.'

'Right, right. What else would you call it?' Millicent smirked, obviously not believing him. 'Attraction?'

'Obsession,' Blaise coughed. He quickly held up his hands in surrender when Draco shot him a murderous look.

'I don't love her,' he repeated. When Millicent looked unconvinced, he pressed, 'I don't. How can you be in love with someone you barely know? Common sense, morons.'

'How can you even think about marrying someone you don't love?' the girl shot back. 'Common sense, moron.'

Blaise sniggered at their comical exchange, but spoke in defence of Draco all the same, 'No, it's like this, see: the engagement rings find the sort of person the owner wants. Then they see if they're really compatible and decide upon marriage or not.'

'Exactly,' Draco nodded triumphantly. 'It's about learning each other, not falling in love at first sight. That is how you think about marrying someone you don't initially love.' He almost added 'Common sense, moron' but decided not to push it.

Millicent rolled her eyes, but gave in. 'Fine, whatever you say. At least,' she added gloomily, raising her knees to her chin, 'you're going about it in a decent manner ... apart from that picture in the Prophet, of course –'

'Not my fault –!'

'– which is a lot more than I can say for Finnegan,' she cut across him, barely listening. Her eyes were cold as she continued, 'Sometimes I wonder if it's all an act and he's just trying to humiliate me.'

Draco and Blaise exchanged a dubious glance.

'Maybe he doesn't know he's embarrassing you,' the latter said carefully. 'Finnegan's an eccentric fellow. Maybe he honestly believes that he's doing things the right way to win you over.'

'Then he desperately needs a harsh reality slap to the face,' was the aloof answer. 'Every time he makes an eccentric advance on me – usually in front of every bloody student in this school – I wish to evaporate on the spot.'

Draco considered her seriously for a moment. Then, getting to his feet and making for the dormitories, he said lightly, 'You're right, Millicent. We are in equally deep shit. But what's different between us is that Potter and I are giving it a chance. Maybe you ought to try it and stop worrying so much about what Finnegan's doing and, instead, focus on why he's doing it.'

Millicent stared after him as he disappeared into the labyrinthine passage, her eyes wide and surprised.

Breakfast time the next day found Harry sitting impatiently at the Gryffindor table, completely ignoring the platter of delicious sausages in front of her while she eyed the glassless windows above, waiting for the morning post. Ron and Hermione sitting opposite her exchanged amused glances, but for once, the latter did not nag at her best friend to eat.

'Finally,' Harry hissed excitedly when, at long last, the awaited pack of owls came streaming into the Hall in a great flutter of wings and feathers. Her two friends lowered their forks as one and turned to look up with her, each of them scanning the mass of grey and brown for the blessed individual that would bring their well-deserved victory at last.

'That one,' said Ron, pointing at a barn owl that was flying towards Harry. It had a long, cylindrical package dangling from its legs.

The owl had barely alighted on the table before Harry relieved it from its burden. She ripped open the brown paper wrapping and out unfolded the latest edition of The Quibbler. Smack in the middle of the front page was a moving photograph of a simpering Rita Skeeter that coyly batted her eyelashes at the camera from behind her bejewelled spectacles; over the picture was:

DAILY PROPHET REPORTER CAUGHT BUGGING AROUND – IILEGAL ANIMAGUS UNMASKED.

The words "BUGGING" and "ILLEGAL ANIMAGUS" were blown up to an exaggerated degree.

Ron snorted into his goblet of pumpkin juice. 'Catchy headline, that. Why am I not surprised?'

Beaming, Harry flipped open the magazine to the correct page. 'It's brilliant,' she said happily, skimming through the article which not only reported everything correctly (and overdramatically, as per Quibbler style), but also included minimised copies of both Dennis' photographs and the piece of parchment Harry and her friends had signed as witnesses. Xenophilius Lovegood had done his part well.

'Skeeter won't be able to escape a scandal this huge, especially when the Ministry starts investigating.' remarked Hermione when the other girl passed the paper to her.

'Hang on,' Ron suddenly said with a frown. 'D'you reckon anyone in the Ministry will take this seriously? I mean ... it's The Quibbler, after all.'

Hermione, still reading the article, shrugged. 'Well, considering how popular The Quibbler became when it printed that interview of Harry's in fifth year, I don't see why not. A lot of people believed it.'

'I suppose,' Ron agreed reluctantly. 'But still, only a few people actually follow this thing. It'll take some time before it reaches the Ministry and the news really goes public. I guess we'll have to wait for the chaos, huh?'

Harry thought his words over carefully. 'Well ...' she drawled, a grin unfolding on her face, 'why bother waiting for the Ministry when we can start it ourselves?'

It took a few seconds before her friends caught onto her meaning. Then, in quick succession, understanding dawned in their eyes and huge smiles curved up their lips slowly. In unison, the three of them reached for their wands.

'Which spell?' Ron asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

'Gemino,' answered Hermione at once, closing the magazine.

'Gemi – eh? You mean the one that Bellatrix Lestrange put on Hufflepuff's cup in her vault?!'

'The very one,' smiled Hermione as, with a sweep of her wand, she sent The Quibbler launching into the air to the middle of the Great Hall.

'Gemino,' hissed the three of them, aiming their wands at the magazine. For a fraction of a second, it remained suspended in mid-air. Then, with agonising slowness, it began to fall and the three Gryffindors followed its descent with bated breath; it landed on the Ravenclaw table, right in front of Padma Patil, who turned to look at it in surprise and curiously reached out a hand –

'AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGH!'

Her scream of shock sliced through the air like a bolt of lightening. Every head turned towards the Ravenclaw table and the chattering voices died away immediately as everyone stared at The Quibbler which had, upon being touched by Padma, exploded into twenty or more identical fake copies that leapt into the air in a shower of Quibblers.

Hermione quickly waved her wand again so that the copies shot forward in every direction where they landed on random tables and the heads of many students, the latter case resulting in the fakes splitting into another twenty copies each. Catching on to her plan at once, Harry and Ron mimicked her and magically sent the copied magazines flying in every which way, where they replicated themselves upon coming into human contact.

For the next several seconds, it literally rained Quibblers in the Great Hall (which, as Ron pointed out, was a sight the likes of which no one had ever imagined, even in their wildest dreams) until Hermione, finally satisfied that every student and teacher had a copy of the magazine within reach, quietly murmured, 'Finite Incantatem.' The duplication process halted. Grinning broadly, the three Gryffindors returned to their breakfasts, leaving the rest of the student population to warily poke and pick up the magazines.

Keeping an ear out for the school's reaction, Harry helped herself to baked beans on toast. She did not have to wait long.

Barely five seconds later, someone gave a low whistle and exclaimed, 'Whoa. Busted!'

And with that, the hullabaloo started.

Harry smiled contentedly as she listened to the news spread around her; the voices of her peers were raised in disbelief and excitement. She could have sworn she heard someone say, 'Ooh, now that's a one-way ticket to Azkaban for Rita Skeeter!' and she grinned at the thought. Her ecstasy only increased as she imagined the grander reactions of the general public that would ensue when the news finally reached them – not to mention the people that worked at the Daily Prophet. No one would take the exposure of an illegal Animagus – especially said Animagus being the infamous Rita Skeeter – very lightly at all.

Oh yes. Say hello to Azkaban, Skeeter.

Ron and Hermione were looking around at the hubbub with great enjoyment. All the students were reading and discussing the article with great gusto and, along the Gryffindor table, Harry could see Seamus putting on a highly exaggerated act of fainting with shock to general hilarity and laughter.

'Ah, chaos,' sighed Ron theatrically. 'Glorious chaos.'

Harry could not have put it better herself. She turned in her seat to fully absorb the commotion and watched with increasing satisfaction as people waved the copies of The Quibbler around. Her eyes slid from the clamouring Hufflepuffs to the Ravenclaws and finally to the Slytherin table where she easily found a grinning Blaise immersed in the magazine. Beside him, Draco Malfoy was peering over his shoulder to read it himself. She blinked when she noticed the rare upturn of his lips; he was genuinely enjoying it.

As she watched, Malfoy said something to Blaise laughingly and turned to reach for his water goblet. His eyes swept briefly across the Hall, passing carelessly over her profile before abruptly returning to meet her eyes with lightening speed. His lips were still curled up, as if the expression had frozen on his face.

Harry sat still, waiting for ... she was not quite sure. But the fact that neither his tiny smile nor the pleased look in his eyes disappeared was definitely not what she was expecting. She recalled the previous evening, when he had suddenly grown angry at her for no apparent reason. And now he was practically smiling at her. What was the man, bipolar?

She really had no idea how she was supposed to respond to him. He was unpredictable. With a blank face, she looked back at her plate, trying not to think about whether he was still staring or not. Dealing with Draco Malfoy was exhausting and she was in no hurry to upset her current good mood.

A good mood that returned and lasted for another twenty minutes before Professor McGonagall – who seemed supremely unaffected by how a bunch of self-replicating Quibblers had revealed such a scandalous secret in the middle of breakfast – stood up and authoritatively reminded the excited students that they still had lessons to attend. And, being the scarily shrewd woman that she was, she eradicated all chances of anyone sneaking a magazine into class by casting a spell that effectively caused all the fake copies to disappear, leaving behind only the original which she also did away with via a quick 'Evanesco'.

'Off you go,' she commanded as she put away her wand. 'Lessons start in less than ten minutes!'

Hermione leapt off the bench before anyone else could even react.

'Ancient Runes,' she explained in a hurried whisper to her questioning friends as she hastily grabbed her bag. 'Nearly forgot.' With that, she took off and disappeared through the doors of the Great Hall before half the other students had even left their seats.

Harry and Ron, who were lucky enough to have their first period free that day, finished their breakfasts at a more leisurely pace and left the Hall with a few of the other stragglers that, too, apparently had no classes right then. Among them were Dean and Seamus, who were walking ahead of them and still talking about the Skeeter article.

Ron smiled hugely as he listened to their awed voices. 'What better way to start off a Friday morning than sending that cow of a woman to hell and having first period free to boot?' he murmured, sighing contentedly.

Harry chuckled. 'Two free periods, you mean, seeing as we have Defence afterwards.' She frowned a little. 'There still hasn't been any news of when a teacher is going to come, has there?'

'Not that I've heard of. Speaking of which, we have our first DA meeting tonight, don't we?'

'Oh yeah,' Harry said, blinking. What with the earlier excitement over The Quibbler, she had almost forgotten. 'Tonight at eight to nine-thirty for Slytherins and Ravenclaws.'

'Huh? What about the rest?' Ron stopped in the middle of the Entrance Hall to gape at her.

'Oh, sorry, I didn't tell you, did I? When McGonagall was finalising the meetings, she split up the students into two groups, because she thought that too many might turn up. So, it's Slytherins and Ravenclaws tonight, and Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs on Sunday.'

'Oh, come off it,' said Ron disbelievingly. 'Too many students coming? I bet you that not a single Slytherin will show up tonight.'

Harry shrugged dismissively, trying not to show any emotion. Truth was that she did not know what to feel about the prospect of possibly having to teach Slytherins – if any did come. The original DA had consisted of all the Houses except the snakes; none of them had ever been on her side, after all. But now what...?

'I dunno, Ron. We'll see tonight, I guess. And I was also thinking,' she added, feeling a hint of embarrassment coming over her, 'if we're to keep calling this the DA, let's the change the name from Dumbledore's Army to ...' She paused to think and suddenly remembered the name Cho Chang had suggested in their first ever meeting, '... to the Defence Association or something.'

'OK ...' Ron stared at her, puzzled. 'Why?'

Harry shrugged again. 'More appropriate, isn't it?' She met his confused eyes steadily, hoping he would not press the matter; she did not have the words to explain. To be completely honest, Harry was feeling uncomfortable with keeping the name of the group as Dumbledore's Army. That group – the real DA – had been about rebelling against the corruption and blindness that had been threatening to tear apart the magical community; that group had been about training to fight against Voldemort and all the fools that had refused to accept his return; that group had consisted of people that had remained faithfully loyal to Dumbledore until the very end (with the exception of a negligible few, of course).

But this new DA – it could not even compare. It was like an extracurricular activity; something done for the sake of their grades, not for their survival. Harry could not help but feel that keeping the name of Dumbledore's Army would be an insult to the late Headmaster's memory and their rebellion. That name was sacred and special only to the few people that had believed and trusted in Harry and Dumbledore when the rest of the Wizarding World had turned their backs on them. That name could never be applied to anyone else.

To Harry's relief, Ron did not pursue the subject. With an accepting nod, he continued, 'Alright. But pity that we have to do it in two groups. That means we can attend only once a week!'

'Twice for you and Hermione,' Harry corrected, beginning to walk towards the marble staircase again. 'You'll be coming with me on Fridays, too, 'cause I'll need your help. But only if you're free to come –'

'Of course, we'll come!' said Ron excitedly. 'By the way, where are we holding the meeti –?'

He stopped talking – as did the rest of the students that were still in the Entrance Hall – when an angry snarl of 'Don't touch me!' sounded from ahead of them. The two Gryffindors looked up to see Millicent Bulstrode wrench her arm out of Seamus Finnegan's grip and storm towards the staircase leading to the upper floors, followed by two of her Slytherin girlfriends.

'Wait, Millie –' Seamus began, bouncing after her, but he stopped dead when she turned and gave him a look of utmost fury.

'Stop it. Just stop it,' she ground out between clenched teeth, eyes flashing. 'I've tried to put up with your nonsense, but I am just so sick of you acting like a fool and embarrassing me in front of everyone over and over again.'

The ever-present grin on the Irishman's face had vanished. He was staring up at the Slytherin girl with genuine shock. 'Embarrass ... in front of ...? What, no, I wasn't trying to –'

'Why don't you open your bloody eyes and take a good look around you!'

Blinking, Seamus obliged. He appeared surprised to find the people in the Entrance Hall staring at him and Millicent with avid, curious eyes. Harry thought that she could understand his reaction: Seamus had never seemed to mind being the centre of attention; it was no wonder that he had not realised just how much notice he drew in his ceaseless pursuit of Millicent ... or that she obviously hated all the attention.

'Just grow up,' said Millicent coldly when Seamus looked back at her. She turned and hurried up the stairs, ignoring his desperate plea for her to wait.

Seamus stood stock still as he stared at her retreating figure. He barely reacted when Dean, who had a look of sympathy on his face, uncertainly dropped a comforting hand on his shoulder. Beyond them, Millicent's Slytherin friends had recovered their senses and began to follow her again. One of them, a short blonde, gave Seamus a fleeting look that seemed almost pitying. She was about to leave when her eyes found Harry and Ron, standing a little behind Seamus and Dean.

It took a moment for Harry to realise that the blonde girl was staring at her. Their gazes met and Harry was filled with uncertainty when she saw a slow, knowing smile spread deliberately across the girl's face. Her eyes glinted, not with malice but with ... something that distinctly made Harry's insides curl with unease. Her grin widened as she pointedly let her eyes rove down Harry's left arm to her gloved hand, which automatically curled into a fist under her gaze.

Harry was trying to figure out what was going on when the girl looked up at her again. Her lips moved and the Gryffindor froze to the spot.

Malfoy. The girl had mouthed Malfoy at her.

With a final smirk at Harry, she lightly ran up the stairs. Harry released a breath she did not know she had been holding. She knows, she thought, unnerved. That Slytherin girl had not just merely suspected that Harry had Malfoy's ring like everyone else did, but she actually knew it. The look in her eyes had been unmistakeable.

What had Malfoy done, told all the Slytherins?!

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Ron, still frowning after Millicent, muttered, 'Got her knickers in a tighter twist today, hasn't she?'

'Might have something to do with Finnegan snogging her last night,' an amused voice said in reply.

With a start, Harry and Ron whipped around to see Blaise Zabini behind them.

'Blaise! What are you doing here?'

He shrugged, smiling carelessly. 'I was on my way to Ancient Runes when I remembered that I'd left my textbook in the dorm.' Looking over at the frozen Seamus, he added, 'Had a lover's spat, did they?'

Ron rolled his eyes with a snort while Harry, with a concerned look at the sandy-haired teen, muttered, 'I thought it was a bit harsh of Bulstrode. She didn't have to be that cruel, did she?'

Blaise gave her an unreadable look. 'Don't judge her,' he said quietly. 'She has her reasons.'

Ron spared him a disparaging glance. 'Why? Just because Seamus snogged her? The bloke is practically in love with her, for Merlin's sake! She didn't have to be such a –!'

'Then he needs to express how he feels in a way that she can accept,' the Slytherin cut across him smoothly. 'I'm not saying that Millicent is not at fault, but Finnegan also needs to understand her way of thinking and what is acceptable to her. And, judging from her reaction last night, him snogging her in the lake without her permission was the last straw.'

Though she was still feeling a little sorry for Seamus, a grudging Harry had to agree with that one. 'I don't think anyone would want to be snogged without permission,' she said dryly.

'You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?' Blaise drawled, causing Ron to unwittingly smirk and Harry to scowl. Adjusting the strap of his bag, the Slytherin continued, 'Anyway, this is a perfect opportunity. I've wanted to have a word with Leprechaun Boy for sometime now. See you, Harry.' With that, he brushed past the two Gryffindors towards Seamus and Dean, both of whom were slowly leaving the Entrance Hall through the large double doors leading outside.

'What about your Ancient Runes?' Harry asked half-heartedly after him, but Blaise appeared not to have heard her.

Harry and Ron stood in silence for a few seconds while the rest of the students cleared out of the Hall. Then, remembering what they had been talking about before Millicent Bulstrode's outburst, Ron turned back to her and asked, 'So, about the DA meetings – where are you going to hold them?'

Harry, whose thoughts had abruptly switched to the blonde Slytherin girl that had been smirking at her not five minutes ago, took a few seconds to make sense of her friend's words. 'Oh, right. McGonagall said we could hold them where we used to –' She stopped abruptly, remembering something with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her eyes widened. 'Ron ... the Room of Requirement ... does it work anymore?!'

'What are you ...' The colour drained from Ron's face and his mouth fell open, catching on to her meaning. 'Crabbe and the fiendfyre ... I forgot ...'

They stared at each other for a full ten seconds, and then Ron turned on his heel and fled up the marble staircase. 'I'll go check it out and see if the Room still works!' he called over his shoulder, not even bothering to see if she was following or not.

'Wait, Ron!' Harry shouted after him, but he had already disappeared. A second thought had occurred to her: even if the Room of Requirement was still working, it would hardly be a good idea to reveal it to the rest of the student population. The Room's existence was better left as a secret that only a select few people were aware of. Certainly, it had not done anyone an ounce of good when Draco Malfoy had discovered the Come and Go Room and used it to unleash the nightmare of Death Eaters into Hogwarts...

Harry quelled the thought; she did not want to think of Draco Malfoy, especially about what an incorrigible pain and enemy he had been before the War (and sometimes, even now, too). But her thoughts switched right over to that Slytherin girl who had mouthed his name at her and, again, the question arose whether Malfoy had already told all his housemates the truth about their engagement.

He would not do that, would he? Without even consulting her?

Troubled, Harry slowly began to walk, letting her feet lead her towards the huge doors, down the steps and along the grassy, sunlit lawn. As her confused thoughts battled within her mind, she found herself suddenly filled with a longing so intense that it was nearly painful; a longing to be able to meet Sirius or maybe even Remus again. She had never discussed love or relationships with either of them when they had been alive; there had been no need to. But now, faced with a situation she had not found herself in before (and her inexperience made her fear it more than the prospect of facing Voldemort in a one-on-one duel – rather like how battling a Hungarian Horntail had seemed a piece of cake next to dancing in front of the whole school during the Yule Ball), she dearly wished that the two Marauders were with her.

After all, she reflected as she subconsciously picked out the familiar route that would take her to Hagrid's hut, it would have been comforting to hear an opinion or two from a parental figure she could trust – no matter how awkward it might have been.

Draco raised an eyebrow when Blaise, who had been conspicuously absent from that morning's Ancient Rune's class, met up with him in the courtyard which was where the majority of the students spent their free Defence Against the Dark Arts periods. Blaise came up to him wearing a huge smile, simply exuding waves of self-satisfaction.

The blond slid along the bench on which he was sitting to make room for him. Closing the Potion's book he had been perusing, he asked wryly, 'Do I need to ask where the hell you disappeared to this morning?'

'I finally cornered Seamus Finnegan,' said Blaise happily, unceremoniously dumping his bag onto the grass as he sat down beside his friend.

'Really?' Draco was amused. 'So, has he shanghaied you into working for him?'

'Working with him, you mean. He was all too happy to accept a partner-in-crime for his outrageous House Unity schemes.'

The Malfoy heir rolled his eyes, but without any real malice. 'Took you long enough to finally do it. Finnegan and Zabini – the legendary two-man force soon-to-be responsible for imposing unwanted friendship between rival Houses.'

'Hardly unwanted,' said Blaise with a snort. Leaning back casually, he stretched out his legs and folded his arms across his chest. 'Anyway, I'm glad I caught up with Leprechaun Boy today, since I was also able to put in a few words about Millicent.'

Draco, who had returned to his Potion's book (the Verita Potion was almost due and – though Weasley had been miraculously sensible enough to keep their enmity to a minimum whenever they worked on their project – it was still unfinished and he had begun to worry), looked up in confusion. Before he could ask, Blaise briefly explained what had taken place in the Entrance Hall that morning.

'She finally let him know how she felt about his chasing her so ... publicly, and not very kindly either,' he finished with a mild grimace. 'I felt a little sorry for the poor bloke, but he needed to hear it. His antics around her were not working at all.'

Draco, who had listened emotionlessly to his narrative, finally spoke, his voice testy, 'Perhaps. But that means that she barely listened to a word I said last night, doesn't it?' When Blaise looked round at him, looking a little shocked, he turned his face away and said coldly, 'Like I said, I don't have a high opinion of Seamus Finnegan, but if his actions around Millicent – no matter how embarrassing she finds them – are such because he genuinely likes her, then isn't that what she should be focussing on? Why does she care how he expresses his feelings for her? If his intentions are pure, the least she could do is to give him a chance.'

Neither of them spoke for a long time after his intense speech, mainly because they were not words that one often heard from Draco Malfoy – or any Malfoy, for that matter. Had Draco bothered to contemplate exactly what he had said just then, he might have been a little surprised at the words that had escaped him, but he was too distracted, and filled with frustration and anger.

Blaise, looking at him, slowly began to understand. 'You're basing all this on your experiences with Harry, aren't you?'

Draco did not reply, but simply occupied himself with stuffing his book back into his bag. Still avoiding the other's gaze, he asked abruptly, 'So, what did you say to Finnegan?'

'Ah, I just gave him a general idea of what Millicent said last night, but a little more nicely. I figured he needed to understand how she feels about his current crazy methods of approaching her and I gave him a couple of pointers on how he can tone it down a bit ... And then I offered to help him with his friendship schemes. That cheered him up.' Blaise grinned brightly.

Draco, too, felt his lips twitch slightly. 'Not someone that needs a lot of persuasion, is he?'

'No,' Blaise chuckled. 'But now I feel like I'm some sort of relationship counsellor. First you' – he ignored Draco's mortified flush – 'and now Leprechaun Boy. What will the men in this school do without me?' The smugness in his voice was staggering.

Restraining himself from rolling his eyes with great difficulty, Draco grunted, 'Just go find your own woman. Then you can counsel yourself.'

'I have yet to find a girl here that fits my tastes ... though Harry comes quite close.' He shot a provocative smirk at his friend, eyes gleaming mischievously.

Draco, however, was a little more fixated on the first part of what Blaise had said. If he had ever heard a lie in his life – then that was it. 'Blaise ... I mightn't have known you well before, but I do know for a fact that you've been with almost every girl in our House that is, at the most, three years younger than you or less!'

Blaise looked faintly amused at his accusation. 'Have you seen me with anyone this year?'

'... No,' the blond admitted, frowning in puzzlement. 'Not this year ... but you are a womaniser! I think the only girls you haven't tried are Millicent –'

'I haven't lost my marbles yet like Finnegan.'

'– or Pansy Parkinson –'

'Because you were the one snogging her,' teased Blaise, laughing.

Draco shot him a haughty glare. 'You know I wasn't serious with Pansy.'

'No, you were with her only because she worshipped you.'

'Come to think of it, she could be a little annoying,' Draco continued, ignoring his last. 'Too shrill, if you ask me. Ah, it's a good thing she hasn't been all over me this year, as well.'

For a few seconds following this remark, Blaise simply gaped at him. '... Seriously?'

'What?'

'Draco ... the only reason why Pansy hasn't been all over you this year is because ... well, she is not here.'

The blond stared. 'Eh?' he said stupidly.

'She didn't come back to Hogwarts. Maybe because it's well known that her parents were huge supporters of the Dark Lord and she was too humiliated to return after the Light won the War or ... I don't know. But the point is, she's not here ... and you never noticed?'

'Er ...'

Blaise exhaled loudly from his mouth and shook his head. 'You've got your head a little too much wrapped around Harry, I think,' he said dryly.

Draco did not argue.

The bell that signalled lunch rang at that second. Gathering up their bags, the two Slytherins joined the throngs of students that were making their way inside to the Great Hall.

As they walked, Blaise said lightly, 'Speaking of Harry, have you seen the notice about the extracurricular Defence group that's starting tonight? The one that Harry's supposedly taking?'

'Yes,' Draco answered shortly. He knew what Blaise was about to ask.

'Well, I was thinking of going ... Are you?'

'I don't know.'

Blaise raised his eyebrows at him. 'Don't you want to? It's open for everyone in fourth year and above. Also,' he added, suddenly looking thoughtful, 'if you went, a lot of other Slytherins would probably go, too. You being the Slytherin prince and all...'

'I know.'

'Then?'

Draco shrugged. He did not want to express his feeling that she might not want him there, amidst all her friends. It was an irrational thought; after all, it was one of the few chances he would have of being with her. But he was still ashamed of how he had almost shouted at her the previous night for no real good reason and he did not think that she would welcome his presence.

Blaise did not prod him any further except to say, 'Just come with me this once. You might find that you like having Defence lessons with Harry.'

Upon arriving at the back of Hagrid's lone hut, Harry found her large friend in the middle of preparing his Care of Magical Creatures lesson for that afternoon's class. He greeted her cheerfully as he looked up from two large crates full of furry, black creatures with long snouts and spade-like paws that Harry recognised to be Nifflers. The crates, she noted, were kept a safe distance away from Hagrid's precious pumpkins.

'Fourth year class this afternoon,' said Hagrid happily, straightening up after he was certain of the little creatures' comfort.

'I see. Nifflers, huh?' Harry grinned as she approached them. Leaning down, she reached out a hand to pet one of the cuddly animals, only to snatch it away again when the Niffler spotted her watch and tried to bite it off. 'So, did you bury Leprechaun gold for them to dig up again?'

'Yep,' he replied. Walking to the large barrel of water that was kept near his back door, he quickly washed his hands. 'Jus' finished buryin' a couple hundred in front of the house.'

'What else are you teaching your students, apart from Nifflers?' asked Harry curiously, remembering that Hagrid was keen to impress his pupils with what he called interesting creatures (and Nifflers, though wonderfully cute and were impressive gold-diggers, they hardly matched up to his standard of "interesting").

'Bin teaching them unicorns fer the pas' couple o' weeks.'

'No Hippogriffs this time?' asked Harry, grinning widely as she remembered the first time she had met Buckbeak.

'Ah, yeah ... Professor McGonagall had a word wi' me before the start o' term and she suggested I leave Hippogriffs till later – an' even then, to show 'em to students only from a distance. Said she didn' want a repeat o' ...' He smiled a little sadly at her. '... ye know ... wha' happened in yer firs' class with me.'

The smile had faded from Harry's face. With a sick, sinking feeling in her stomach, she remembered vividly that it had been all Draco Malfoy's fault for that disastrous first Care of Magical Creatures lesson; that he had vindictively tried to get Hagrid sacked afterwards; that Buckbeak had barely escaped execution thanks to him. It had been his entire fault...

'Hagrid ...' she said very quietly, keeping her gaze firmly locked on the crate of Nifflers. 'Do you ... still hate Malfoy for what he did back then?'

Hagrid looked very surprised at her unexpected question. 'Why'd ye ask?'

'If ... if he's ... not the person he was before ... if he's really – I dunno, reformed himself or something ... would you still hold it against him?'

There was silence for a minute.

'I can' say I like the Malfoy boy,' he finally answered at length. 'Bu' I can' say I hate him, either. If he's really better now ... well,' he shrugged, 'le's jus' say I don' think anyone's beyon' being reformed. Maybe 'cept for You-Know-Who –'

'So,' said Harry, meeting his eyes desperately, 'it's OK to be with him? I made the right choice by giving him a chance?'

'Wha' –?'

'I just can't make sense of Malfoy! He's so bloody confusing; I don't know what to think!'

'Harry.' Hagrid looked really alarmed now. 'Wha's bin goin' on?'

She paused, breathing heavily. Then, with a weary sigh, she made up her mind.

'I should've told you from the start ... Hagrid, have you been reading the Prophet lately?'

'Yeh, I ...' Comprehension dawned in his beetle black eyes, which widened. 'This got anythin' ter do with tha' picture o' you and Malfoy –'

'Yes,' cut in Harry tersely as she began to pull off her left glove.

'Bin meanin' ter ask ye abou' that.'

'Yeah well, brace yourself. This might come as a little shock,' she said grimly and held up her hand, revealing the engagement ring that glittered beautifully in the morning sunlight.

Ron looked around with distaste at the large, spacious room that was lit with large burning torches that were hung around the stone walls, and was carpeted in what appeared to be soft, red velvet. It was nearly eight pm and he, Harry and Hermione were in one of the chambers off the Entrance Hall but, despite its splendour and good ventilation – as it had three huge windows that opened to the night sky overlooking the starlit lawn beyond – he was obviously unimpressed.

'I preferred the Room of Requirement,' he said grouchily, shoving his hands into his pockets. 'And I told you, Harry, it's still actually working! I tried to get in this morning and I could definitely open our old DA room. I wanted to see if I could open the one where Crabbe had set the fiendfyre, too, but there wasn't time and –'

'I know, Ron, I know. You've already told me,' interrupted Harry gently. She walked around the chamber – it was the one Professor McGonagall had suggested when Harry had approached her with her dilemma that afternoon at the end of Transfiguration– noting approximately how many duelling couples it could hold. A lot, she deduced, if any bothered to show up (she still doubted they would, though McGonagall had assured that she would put the new location of their meetings on all the school notices). Turning back to Ron, she went on, 'And I'm really glad the Room's still working; maybe we'll take a peek in there again someday. But for this, I told you earlier, it's not a good idea to let everyone in the school know about it.'

'But the old DA –'

'Had only about thirty members who were on the run from Umbridge in fifth year and, later, from Death Eaters that were trying to kill them. This new group isn't in need of that sort of protection, is it?'

'No, but – but ...'

Harry and Hermione both smiled at him. 'I know how you feel, Ron,' the latter said. 'But this room isn't too bad, either. Though I miss all those books the Room of Requirement had,' she added, looking wistfully around at the prominently bare walls. 'Not even a single bookshelf!'

Ron sat down cross-legged on the red velvet and was shortly joined by his friends. Leaning back on his hands, he looked at Harry and asked, 'So, how are you planning to do this?'

She fingered her wand. 'Exactly what McGonagall said: practise the defensive spells we've already been taught and ... well, pretty much what I did in the old DA.'

'I think she wants to make sure the students don't go rusty when it comes to self-defence, even though we don't have a proper teacher,' murmured Hermione thoughtfully. She had barely finished speaking when the wooden door of the chamber opened and a girl with long black hair poked her head in uncertainly.

'Oh, hello. Um, this is the place, right?'

The three Gryffindors quickly rose to their feet and Hermione gave Padma Patil a small smile. 'Yes. Come on in.'

The door opened a bit wider and Padma entered, followed by a stream of Ravenclaws. Harry, trying to hide her surprise, watched as one by one, the chamber filled with more students than she had anticipated. Among them, she could see the familiar faces of the old DA, such as that of Terry Boot, Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein, all of whom nodded and gave her a short wave when she caught their eyes, and Luna Lovegood, who stood off to a side, lost in her own dream world.

With a start, Harry also noticed a head of honey-blonde hair and, sure enough, it was Lisa Turpin – the girl who had encouraged Dennis to send his infamous picture to the Daily Prophet. Harry felt a growing sense of disgust in the pit of her stomach, which she tried to ignore as she swept her eyes across the other faces; there were plenty of Ravenclaws from lower years that she did not recognise. Some of them looked rather excited while others were regarding her with something akin to nervousness.

Harry was about to address them when the door opened again and, to her utter amazement and Ron's infinite shock, more people invited themselves into the room. They were led by a young boy Harry vaguely recognised as the Slytherin that had "saved" her from one of Seamus' Elemental Raptors several days ago.

They had never made a bet, but Harry could not help muttering to her red-haired sidekick, 'Pay up, Ron. The Slytherins came – more than one of them.'

He did not answer, but simply gawked at the haughty snakes that were taking their places on one side of the chamber, opposite the Ravenclaws. Compared to the other House, the Slytherins were considerably less in number, but the fact that any had turned up at all was incredible enough. Harry caught sight of the blonde girl that had been staring at her that morning standing beside another one she was sure was called Daphne Greengrass. A little behind them was a bored-looking Millicent Bulstrode and right next to her was – Harry blinked – Blaise Zabini, who, in turn, was talking to...

Whoa. If anything could have taken Harry's feelings of shock and disbelief to a whole other extreme, seeing her fiancé there in front of her was it.

Hermione, who was looking far too pleased than should be allowed, turned to Harry with a broad smile of satisfaction. 'Your pupils, Harry. Fire away.'

Exasperation at Hermione battled with her discomfiture. Trying to summon the confidence she had mastered during the old DA lessons (and honestly far too conscious of a certain someone's white-blond hair than she cared to be, and his sharp eyes that she knew were fixed on her), Harry cleared her throat and stepped forward, hoping dearly that she could do this without messing it up.

After several minutes into the Defence lesson, Draco finally saw exactly why the bunch of misfits that had called themselves Dumbledore's Army had become such a raging success in Hogwarts, and why the Headmistress had appointed Hariah Potter to tutor students in Defence Against the Dark Arts. She was a natural and, despite her obvious initial discomfort at being faced with so many students, she was quick to gain self-assurance once she commenced the lesson, and he could tell that she was experienced as he observed how she handled teaching them all.

Draco also had to admire her use of tactics. She knew her spells well and she got them started from the very basics, and remained unfazed when many raised eyebrows and even disdainful looks were aimed at her when she announced that they would start with the simple Disarming Charm and, afterwards, Stunning.

'I need to know at what level all of you are,' she told the grumbling students, frowning. 'Considering that you're all from different years, it'll be even harder – which is why it's important to make sure that everyone here has mastered the basics at least. What'd you expect, that you can repel a Dementor before you can even properly Stun someone?'

At her words, the grousing faded away and some people even looked away from her, a little shamefaced. Unaffected, she ordered them to pair up and practise, a command that was immediately obeyed. Soon, the room was full of students shouting, 'Expelliarmus!' at each other.

Draco, who admittedly had thought that Disarming and Stunning were below him at his current level, was forced to reconsider his opinion when he saw that Potter had done the right thing. Though there were students that could do the spells very well and had their partners' wands flying into the air, there also were several that were having trouble executing a Disarming Charm. Some, he saw, could not even get their partners' wands to so much as twitch.

It was towards these people that Potter and her two sidekicks – who apparently had learned much Defence under her tutelage – hurried to correct their techniques, and several minutes later, Draco could see a distinct improvement amongst them in general. However, he could not observe his fiancée for long because Blaise, who was partnering him, decided that being able to cast a perfectly good Disarming Spell was not going to prevent him from practising, and hit Draco with one without any prior warning. And, of course, Draco was not one who could ever resist fighting back.

He was in the middle of the Disarming match with Blaise – which had started to become childish and oddly hilarious – when he realised that Potter was standing several feet away, observing them expressionlessly. Having seen his spells, she obviously decided that he was good enough and did not need her help, for she did not bother to approach him. Instead, she turned away to help another duelling couple, who were doing far more sloppily than the two Slytherins.

As Draco saw her walk away, he suddenly wished that he had had the foresight to mess up his Disarming Charm on purpose, if only to have her come close and talk to him ... but then, feeling sickened, he pushed away the flimsy thought as he realised how pathetic that was.

Some thirty minutes later, Potter deemed them improved enough and moved on to Stunning; the ones that still had trouble with Disarming were advised to keep practising whenever they could. The same as last time, the Stunning Spell proved challenging to a considerable number of students and there was barely fifteen minutes left of the allocated time when, at last, nearly all of them finally seemed to have grasped it with the help of Potter, Weasley and Granger. By then, however, many people had begun to enjoy themselves – Draco included, it must be admitted – and in spite of the few minutes remaining, Potter found herself bombarded with eager pleas to teach a new spell before the session ended.

She looked amused at their enthusiasm and more than a little happy. 'We won't be able to finish another one tonight,' she warned them to which many responded with assurances of 'I don't care' and 'It's OK!'

Looking like she was biting back a smile, she said, 'Fine then. Let's try the Impediment Jinx. It's a useful spell because it immobilises your enemy for a few seconds, giving you time to escape. The incantation is Impedimenta. Try it.'

Draco blinked. That was one he had not used much before. Curious as to how he would do, he paired up with Blaise again. His friend was obviously very familiar with the jinx for he was able to make Draco freeze on the first try, but Draco had a little trouble mastering the spell. The most he could do was make Blaise jump a little bit.

'Impedimenta!' he tried again, but with the same result. Frustrated, he raised his wand once more, but Potter called out right then,

'OK, it's nine-thirty, people! Time's up for tonight.'

At once, disappointed groans erupted from all over the room. Most of them, Draco noted, issued from the Ravenclaws and not Slytherins. His housemates still seemed unwilling to express any emotion that might indicate that they had taken pleasure in anything presented by Hariah Potter. But he did not miss that, despite the lack of vocal expression, many of his fellow snakes had discreet looks on their faces that more than showed that they shared the Ravenclaws' sentiment. They had really enjoyed the Gryffindor's Defence lesson, simple thought it might have been.

A landmark moment in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

'Same time, next week,' Potter was saying, grinning at them. 'Thanks for coming and good night.'

She, Weasley and Granger stood back, looking quite pleased with themselves, as the other students began to leave in small groups. A few of the Ravenclaws stopped to exchange a few words with the three Gryffindors, though none of the Slytherins did.

Draco hung back while the rest of his housemates brushed past him towards the exit. Blaise, who too had begun to walk ahead, realised that the blond was not following and looked back curiously to see his friend rooted to the spot, his uncertain eyes locked on the black-haired girl at the front of the room. An understanding smile crossed the brunet's face.

'Just go and talk to her,' he said quietly to Draco and promptly left the room, pausing only to give his Potion's partner a lazy wave.

By then, only a few stragglers were left, along with the Gryffindor trio who were conversing with a dirty-blonde haired Ravenclaw that Draco recognised as the Luna girl that had been one of Rita Skeeter's Animagus' witnesses. Draco hesitated, unwilling to approach Potter until she was alone, but looking at the small group, he realised that she would leave together with her precious sidekicks anyway. He considered just leaving, but he really wanted to clear some things up with her ... and he did not know how many chances of getting close to her he could get, either.

Reluctantly, he advanced on them, half-hoping that her annoying friends would leave. The thought had hardly crossed his mind when Granger abruptly looked up as he drew near and, after a moment of hesitation, grabbed Weasley by the arm and gently pulled him away from Potter. The red-head looked around at once and his eyes darkened furiously when they landed on Draco, but quite incredibly, he allowed himself to be led out of the room. However, Draco did not miss the highly concerned look he threw at the raven-haired witch just before he left, and the blond could not help feeling insulted. What, did the weasel think that he would harm his own fiancée?

Fighting the scowl off his face, he stepped closer to Potter, who was unaware of his presence as she was completely engrossed in her talk with Luna.

'Are you sure, Luna? Positive?'

'Yes,' Luna nodded her head fervently, her pale blue eyes disconcertingly huge. 'I accidentally overheard Professor McGonagall talking with Professor Flitwick on my way here tonight. I thought I saw a Wrackspurt hovering near Professor Flitwick's office door and I tried to catch it – they're so incredibly rare and valuable, you know; Daddy says a mountain of gold can't hope to equal their worth – and then I heard the Headmistress say the new teacher had finally written to her.'

'New teacher ... the new Defence teacher? Did she say who it was?!'

'No; only that she would be here very soon.'

'Really ...'

'And then Professor McGonagall began to leave and I had to run away, because I don't think she would've believed me about that little Wrackspurt if she'd caught me. A lot of people don't seem to believe in Wrackspurts, you see ... or even in Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, though Daddy says – oh, hello!' Luna had finally spotted Draco.

Hariah Potter glanced around and visibly started upon seeing him. Draco met her gaze squarely, hoping she would at least hear him out.

'A word?'

She simply looked at him for a long, drawn-out moment. With a barely perceptible nod, she muttered, 'I'll see you later, Luna. And thank your father for me; The Quibbler was brilliant.'

'Oh, Daddy was happy to help. And thanks for starting the DA again, Harry. I missed it so very terribly. Bye bye.' With a vague wave, Luna left.

Folding her arms across her chest in a rather guarded manner, Potter waited for him to speak. Her gaze was not hostile, but it was not friendly, either. She seemed rather ... wary of him.

Licking his dry lips, Draco decided to deal with the most urgent burdens on his mind. 'I owe you an apology,' he said quietly. 'Last night, in the Entrance Hall – I'm sorry I shouted at you. I was stressed and lost my temper, but I shouldn't have.'

'Are you going to tell me why you lost your temper?' she asked abruptly. 'I don't remember saying anything to make you angry.'

'It wasn't you, it was –' He stopped, not knowing how to tell her. He imagined trying to explain that he had lost it because he had been afraid that she was so busy that there would be no time for them to be together. It sounded weak, stupid and childish, even in his mind.

'What?' Potter asked. 'You just went berserk when I told Blaise that I was busy nearly every evening and ...' She looked shrewdly at him, something flickering in her deep green eyes. 'Does your little tantrum episode have anything to do with that?'

Draco was on the verge of saying no when it occurred to him that lying to her was about the worst thing he could do. Here he was, already stressed over the less-than-developed state of their relationship; a relationship that had barely begun. If he were to start lying now – even little ones like this – then the foundation that would be laid would only end in disaster.

Taking a steadying breath, he forced out the answer, 'Yes.'

Her eyebrows shot up. 'Care to elaborate on that?'

With an effort, he met her eyes. 'I ... thought you wouldn't have time for ... you said you were so busy and, well, what I mean is ... you and I still have a long way to go, but you ...' he trailed off, humiliated and unwilling to explain himself in full.

However, Potter had understood the gist. A faint flush lightly dusted her cheeks and she blinked rapidly, failing to mask her flustered feelings. 'Oh ... er ...'

Draco changed the subject hastily. 'I also should apologise for that picture of us in the Prophet. I know that people called you a lot of names because of it.'

'So, what else is new?' Potter snorted, though she did not look the least bit amused. 'Well, I don't see why you're apologising for that. It's not like you planted Dennis there with a camera, is it?'

'No, but I shouldn't have just ... just – kissed you like that out of the blue –' began Draco, uncomfortable but determined to get it all off his chest. The last part of what she had said sank in then, and he stopped dead. 'Dennis?'

Colour flooded the Gryffindor's cheeks in indication that she had not meant to say that in front of him. 'Never mind,' she said quickly, but Draco persisted.

'Is this Dennis the damn photographer who spied on us?' The name brought a memory to the front of his mind and he looked sharply at her. 'The same Dennis who took pictures of Skeeter's Animagus form for you a couple days ago?'

'Yes, but –'

'I'm going to kill him!' And he almost turned around and walked right out of the door to hunt down the damned little voyeur of a Gryffindor that had cost him and his fiancée so much. Potter, on the other hand, was not going to stand for it.

'No, you won't,' she snapped, unfolding her arms and frowning at him. 'I've already cleared everything up with Dennis. Yes, he took the photo, but he's not the only reason why it ended up on the newspapers.'

Draco had to crock a scornful eyebrow over his shoulder at that. 'No? Then who is the reason?'

Something like a sneer briefly flitted across her face as she answered sarcastically, 'That girl – Lisa Turpin – who so desperately wants to be chosen by your famous engagement ring as your perfect bride. Don't you remember, Drakie?'

He immediately recalled the Ravenclaw girl with the honey-blonde hair that had asked him such humiliating questions during that first Charms class of the term. His expression darkened at once and he turned back to Potter. 'Her?'

'Yes,' said Potter with a grimace; she still had not lost her sarcasm. 'According to her way of thinking, you cheated on your actual fiancée with me, the engagement-wrecker, and exposing us for the cheaters that we are was her good deed to the world. So really, if you want to hold anyone responsible, choose her.'

Draco was dearly wishing by then that he could wrap his fingers around that Lisa Turpin's neck, but Potter's words about them being exposed to the world had reminded him of another top priority topic he needed to discuss with her. Before he could, though, she beat him to it.

'By the way, I've been wondering, did you tell any of your housemates about the engagement?'

'What?' The blond was startled.

She gave a shrug, her features aloof. 'This morning, a Slytherin girl as good as told me that she knew I had your ring. You didn't tell all your snake friends without even warning me, did you?' Her voice was calm, but Draco could practically sense that her temper, short and high, was steadily rising. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he registered that there was at least one thing they had in common.

'No, I didn't ... They found out.'

Silence.

'My parents sent me a Howler after that picture appeared in the paper. It was quite loud.'

A strange expression, as if she was torn between laughing and horror, graced her face and she snorted. Draco found himself smiling very slightly at the comical sight.

'So, yes, all the Slytherins do know about it. Strangely though, they don't seem to have told a lot of people ... yet.'

'Maybe not, but nearly everyone suspects the truth now anyway,' said Potter impatiently. She held up her gloved hands. 'Why do you think I wear these?'

The Slytherin looked thoughtfully at the appendages she was waving under his nose. Then, slowly, he reached out and gently took up her left hand in his own. Potter turned to stone under his touch. Ignoring her reaction, he smoothly pulled the black glove off her hand, keeping a firm grip on it in case she thought of pulling away. Her skin – which he had never really touched before, thanks to the barrier provided by that glove – was wonderfully warm and, to his mild surprise, rather callused as if she had done a lot of hard, manual work. The diamond ring resting on her finger looked even more beautiful than when he had first seen it in the vault; and he knew, as corny as it sounded, that for him, the ring would look out of place anywhere except on Hariah Potter's ring finger.

As soon as he thought it, he frantically hoped that Potter was not a Legilimens.

'Malfoy?' she asked, sounding uncertain and not a little embarrassed.

Boldly, he let his fingers twine through hers. The gesture obviously increased her discomfort, but she did not stop him, which he took as a good sign.

'Yes, many people suspect,' he finally spoke, gazing at her. 'Which brings us to the question: do we tell everyone the truth?'

'Eh?'

'You know people will not keep quiet for long. They will start badgering us again and it's only a matter of time before my housemates start telling everyone what they heard from the Howler. We can't escape it...'

She sighed, looking rather resigned and upset. 'I know ... but it's just ...' Gathering her nerve, she looked up doggedly. 'You said you wanted to see if this engagement will work out. There's no guarantee, right? Who's to say we will end up married or anything like that? We might as well as split up in the end. So, why bother confirming this arrangement to the public if we're going to part ways later on, anyway?'

Draco's eyes narrowed a little as he considered her choice of words. He understood what she meant, but the way she had said it had almost sounded like...

'Be honest with me. You agreed to this engagement, yes, but what do you really want the outcome to be?'

'What'd you mean?'

'Do you want this to work out? Or are you actually hoping it would fail?'

Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open. She looked shocked, guilty and confused all at once. 'I – I don't ... I dunno ... I don't know what I want.' And he knew she was being completely truthful. 'What about you? What do you want?' She sounded almost as if she did not want to know the answer to that question.

The truth, Draco reminded himself. He needed to be truthful with her.

'... Yes ... I want this. I want this to work. I want you.' It took a moment for him to fully comprehend exactly how he had phrased his reply, and it sent the blood rushing to his face.

Hariah Potter could not seem to know where to place her gaze. Blushing a shade that could have put the Weasley's famed hair to shame, she looked every which way, avoiding his eyes and positively radiating embarrassment. He cracked a little smile; she was oddly cute when she was flustered. Nor could he blame her reaction; her enemy-turned-ally-turned-fiancé just had as good as told her that he wanted to marry her – something that even an enchanted ring could not compare with.

'So, shall we tell everyone the truth?'

'... Fine.' Taking a steadying breath, she tried to meet his eyes again. 'But tell me something, seeing as you're completely serious about this: why did this ring choose me? What ... what were your wishes?'

Draco blinked, taken aback. He had never considered telling her that before; it felt too personal and he knew he would find the experience mortifying. Draco eyed the expectant look on her face, wondering how to answer. Could he really bring himself to tell her everything he had asked of the rings...?

Thankfully, Draco was spared the trouble of thinking up a reply as Potter suddenly snatched her hand back and stepped away from him. She was staring over his shoulder with startled eyes at something. Concerned, Draco whipped around at once. His mood went from good (albeit uncertain) to lemon-sour in the space of a millisecond.

Standing against the wall to the side of the wooden door was a tall girl who was watching them with cold, narrowed eyes. A girl who had apparently been there since the end of the Defence class. Her honey-blonde hair shone gold in the torch light. A wave of loathing washed over Draco when he recognised her.

When the two of them turned to face her, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and stormed out of the chamber.

Draco gritted his teeth. 'Lisa Turpin, was it?'

'The one who persuaded Dennis to send the picture to the press, yes.' Potter's voice was harsh.

The idea came to him out of nowhere and he acted upon it on impulse. Grabbing her hand again, he pulled her with him out of the chamber.

'What are you doing?'

'I'm going to get a little revenge on Turpin and let the public know the truth; killing too birds with one stone,' snapped Draco, looking around the Entrance Hall. He spotted the Ravenclaw at the foot of the marble staircase. 'Oi, Lisa!'

She turned to face them haughtily as they approached her. As if, Draco thought in disgust, she was the symbol of purity and them the sinners. Masking his fury, he gave the girl a coldly sweet smile.

'Good evening, Lisa,' he said mock-politely. 'Potter here was just telling me how desperately you wanted to be chosen by my engagement ring and marry me.'

Lisa blinked, looking both surprised and rather confused.

'But you see,' Draco smirked cruelly at her, 'my bride-to-be is already chosen and we have decided it is time for people to know of it. So, why don't you do the honours and properly spread the news?' He held up Potter's left hand, letting the incredulous Ravenclaw girl have a good look at the diamond ring that rested on her finger. Still smirking, he drawled, 'Lisa, meet Hariah Potter, my real fiancée.'

Then, revelling under the girl's shocked and horrified gaze, he grabbed Hariah Potter by the waist and pulled her to him, landing a possessive, bruising kiss on her surprised lips.

A/N: I have a number of people to thank for inspiring the ending to this chapter. (The ending is hardly epic, but I had trouble finding a good way to the end this chappy, but the suggestions of these amazing people were uber helpful) Firstly, Shinara101 and Goldenfightergirl, who wanted the truth about their engagement to be officially revealed. Secondly, greatestwit and FlyingOctOpuS, who wanted Lisa Turpin to experience some form of punishment. And thirdly, my cuz Euko-chan, who ... er, just wanted any lame excuse for Draco to kiss Harry again (perverted brat). So, I kinda threw 'em all together and voila! I hope it worked xD

By the way ... SEXUAL INTERCOURSE!!! ................ Do I have your attention now? OK, cool. :D I just wanted to let you know that if you want a vague idea of what my femHarry looks like, you can find a link to it at the bottom of my profile. Go check it out!

BUT ... not before you leave a review, please. Reviews are like chocolate. And chocolate is my absolutely fav! Please give me some review-chocolate? :D